#I will say skimming this movie for a second time was way more enjoyable for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

Dummy

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is the only one of the Avengers who doesn’t tease you for being a little slow

Masterlist

Now you weren’t exactly dumb.

You were just a little slow.

When you joined the Avengers last year, the team learned pretty quickly that your mind moved at a different pace than everyone else. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing and it didn’t keep you from doing your job, it just meant you were the butt of most of the jokes. Every time one of your blunders happened, your intelligence would be mocked in some way. You knew it was all in good fun, but it hurt to it feelings every now and then. The only person who never poked fun at you was Peter. And for that reason, he was your favorite on the team.

“How are there 23 minutes left in this movie and I still don’t know any of the characters names?” Steve wondered as you all sat in the couch in Stark Towers, watching a movie on a particularly rainy afternoon.

“I think the main kids name is Phoenix. That’s all I got though.” Sam shook his head, just as confused as Steve.

“The dogs name is Benson.” Bucky mumbled quietly.

“Who names their kid Phoenix?” Peter wondered out loud as he shoveled popcorn into his mouth. The two of you were tucked into the corner of the couch, sharing a blanket and bowl of popcorn. You looked at him like he was crazy when you heard his question.

“Ummm, Joaquin Phoenix’s parents.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You turned your attention back to the movie as a silence settled in the room. You felt everyone’s eyes on you after a minute and looked around to see everyone staring at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“What?” You asked shyly, shrinking down a little in your seat in discomfort.

“That’s his last name.” Sam stated, chuckling a little under his breath. You realized your mistake and felt your face heat up.

“Oh.” You mumbled, your voice getting drowned out as the rest of the Avengers laughed at your expense.

“Did she really just say that?” Nat looked at the group with a playful smile. Everyone, excluding Peter, nodded as their laughter died down.

“Oh my God.” Steve chuckled. “That’s so stupid.”

There was that word again.

He didn’t mean it maliciously. Steve was the kinda of guy who ushered spiders into a magazine so he could let them outside. And yet, it still stung when he said that word.

Stupid.

You smiled sheepishly and tried to focus on the movie, snuggling closer to Peters side until it ended. You were fully aware that he was the only one who didn’t laugh, and you loved him that.

And maybe you loved him for a few other reasons too.

“Alright. Who has money for the subway?” Sam asked the group as he patted his empty pockets. You were on another late night trip to get cookies from a specific shop in Times Square, leaving without Tony’s knowledge. Everyones hands went to their pockets and collectively made a face.

“Not me.” Rhodey shrugged.

“I don’t have any.” Bruce added.

“I don’t even have pockets.” Nat realized.

“I have gum.” Peter proudly produced a silver wrapper from his pocket. “Oh wait, it’s just a wrapper.”

“You’re telling me we’re earth’s mightiest heroes and we’re broke?” Sam shook his head is disdain.

“I gave my last dollar to a guy in the subway for playing music.” Peter defended himself.

“What was he playing?” You asked him as you tiredly leaned against his arm.

“A mandolin.” Peter answered, making your face scrunch up.

“That’s a language.” You laughed at him slightly, feeling empowered by having the upper hand. Everyone looked at you and a few of them snorted.

“Mandarin is a language.” Bruce said gently, not wanting to embarrass you further. “Not mandolin.”

“What?” You blinked in confusion and looked to Peter for answers.

“A mandolin is an instrument, dummy.” Sam chortled. You smiled tightly as the group laughed at your mistake, looking down to hide your blush.

“Oh. Sorry. My bad.” You laughed shyly as you tucked your hair behind your ear and pretending to read a nearby sign.

“That’s okay.” Peter spoke up in your defense. “They sound really similar. Plus like, French, French Horn. Who knows what’s going on?”

“Yeah.” Bucky said softly. “Or like, bra’s aren’t pointy anymore.”

Bruce nodded like it made perfect sense and Sam just shook his head as he texted.

“What?” You whispered to Peter, not knowing what he meant.

“He’s from the 1920s. He’s still adjusting.” Peter whispered to you out of the corner of his mouth before looking at Bucky. “That’s the spirit. Kind of.”

“FRIDAY is sending a car.” Sam informed the group. “This is never happening again. The cookies aren’t that good.”

“They’re pretty good.” Rhodey shrugged, but wanting the late Nate tradition to end. Sam looked at him for a moment before breaking into a smile.

“Hell yeah they are. Let’s do this again tomorrow.”

Bruce found you in the lab the next day with a pin between your teeth and a pencil behind your ear. Papers with drawings of suits were scattered around the table as you measured a piece of black fabric.

“What are you doing?” Bruce wondered as he took a seat across from you. You glanced up at him before marking a dot on the fabric.

“Mr. Stark asked me to help him with the new suits. I’m trying to make a fabric template for Nat’s gloves.” You told him as you smoothed the fabric out.

“Is it hard?” He asked, watching you intently as you worked.

“Not really.” You shrugged and took a step back to examine your work. “Okay. How many holes do we need? 1,2,3,4,5.” You counted your fingers. “Okay. Five holes.”

You sat back down and put five dots where her fingers would be to mark where you had to cut. You heard a slight chuckle from Bruce and looked up at him curiously.

“Did you just count your fingers?” He asked slowly, wanting to make sure he saw what he thought he had. “To know how many fingers Nat has?”

Your face burned when you realized how dumb you looked, in front of a scientific genius no less.

“Oh, Uh, yeah.” You stammered, feeling very insecure with him watching you now. You moved slower than before and second guessed moves you’d already made a hundred times. Bruce sensed your discomfort and got out of his seat, tapping the table twice as he thought.

“Have you ever heard the expression “the lights are on but nobody’s home’?” He asked you and you were grateful he changed the subject.

“Yeah, I think I have.” You smiled, proud of yourself for knowing something.

“It reminds me of you.” Bruce said so politely that you didn’t realize it was an insult at first. He left the lab to find Tony, leaving you feeling embarrassed and a little hurt. Everyone knew Bruce could hurt you ten times worse with his words than the Hulk could with his fists, you’d just never been his target before. You slumped down in your seat and continued making the gloves, your mood significantly dampened from before he came in the room.

You walked into the kitchen the next morning, sleepily rubbing your eyes. You pressed a chaste kiss on Peters shoulder as you passed him, also more affectionate to your best friend when you were half asleep. You smiled at Rhodey, who was seated at the bar and skimming through a newspaper.

“Did you eat yet?” You asked him through a yawn as you got out yogurt and fruit for yourself.

“No. I needed my coffee first.” He smiled sleepily at you and held up his mug.

“Oh, you mean your sugar with a spoonful of coffee?” You teased him. “Yeah, it’s good you got that out of the way.”

“I prefer it this way. The sugar wakes me up.” Peter defended his drink as he took a sip.

“That’s what the caffeine is supposed to do, mi amor.” You laughed as you ruffled his bed head ridden hair. He was about to make a comeback when his stomach rumbles loudly.

“Someone’s hungry.” You remarked. “Do you want eggs?”

“No thanks.” Peter shook his head. “I can’t eat eggs alone.”

“Well I’m here. And Rhodey’s right there, so you’re not alone.” You told him. “And I can grab Steve and Bucky. They’re just in the other room.”

Rhodey looked up from his newspaper with raised eyebrows and looked at Peter. Peter set his mug down and made a face at Rhodey that told him not to say anything. You looked between the two of them in confusion as you wondered what was going on.

“I meant alone as in without toast, sweetness.” Peter said gently, not wanting you to feel dumb for misunderstanding. “But I am glad you’re here.”

“Oh.” You faked a smile and shrugged like it was no big deal. Peter had handled the situation with ease and you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you normally would. That is until…

“You know, Y/n, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.” Rhodey nodded before going back to his newspaper. You froze with your spoonful of yogurt midway to your mouth and looked at him. He didn’t actually call you dumb, but it was implied. You looked at Peter to see if he was thinking the same thing, but his face had nothing but kindness on it.

“You are pretty.” He agreed with Rhodey. “But you’re a lot of other things too.”

You cracked a smile and rubbed his back for a moment in appreciation.

“Thanks Peter.” You said softly and went back to your breakfast. Not wanting to worry him, you ignored the way Rhodey’s comment made you feel and tried to push it from your mind. But no hard you tried to focus on other things, you had one thought prodding at the back of your head.

You were dumb.

A week went by without anyone poking fun at your intelligence. You had a sneaking suspicion Peter had something to do with the lack of comments, but you said nothing. It was nice to have a break from all the teasing and it made hanging out with the team more enjoyable. You all lingered around the kitchen one day, eating all different kinds of lunch when Tony came in the room.

“Eat up, funky bunch.” He clapped his hands. “We have a mission in Alaska to train for and I need all hands on deck. Cap, do you think you can teach Peter that spinny thingy you do?”

“I can try.” Steve looked at Peter and nodded.

“Great. I’m getting a manicure. I’ll be back around noon.” Tony informed you all.

“Wait, I thought you said all hands on deck.” You tilted your head at him.

“I did. Which I why I have to make sure my hands look the best.” Tony waved flirtatiously, wiggling his fingers around like a teenage girl. He smirked as his action was met with some eye rolls and a few chuckles before leaving the room.

“I can’t believe we’re going to Alaska.” Peter nudged you excitedly and you smiled with glee.

“Is Alaska the same as the North Pole? Or am I thinking of Antarctica?” Sam wondered out loud.

“No. The North Pole is all the way at the top. Alaska is below California. Like by Texas.” You said confidently, proud that you knew information that someone else didn’t. Your pride quickly dissipated when you saw the teams faces twist in amusement.

“Wait a minute.” Steve looked at you like you were joking. You shrugged, letting him know you weren’t. Sam burst out laughing and clapped his hands as the rest of the team began to laugh.

“Absolutely not.” Sam grinned as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“Yes it is.” You insisted. “Look at any US map. It’s on the bottom by Hawaii.”

You were getting angry now. You knew you were right this time and they were still teasing you.

“No.” Bucky shook his head is dismissal. “No.”

“Alaska is below California on every map I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me I’m wrong?” You our your hand on your hip and stared at them.

“100%. I am 100% telling you you’re wrong.” Sam said between his laughter. Peter came to your side and showed you a picture of a map on his phone.

“Alaska is US territory but it’s not connected to the rest of the states. They just put it below California on maps to show it’s a part of the US. Thats not actually where it’s located.” He said quietly. You looked at the map for a few seconds before you realized he was right. And if he was right…

You were wrong.

“Oh.” You smiled apologetically and averted your eyes. “Oops.”

You turned around and pretending to clean up the kitchen to hide your searing blush. Your fingers clenched around your sponge when you heard the teasing laughter from behind you.

“Sometimes I wonder how you made it out of high school.” Steve joked as he threw out the crusts of his sandwich. The comment stung you and you began to scrub the counter faster so you could leave the room sooner. Peter could see your shoulders tense and put a reassuring hand on your back. You gave him a tight lipped smiled before putting your dish in the sink.

“I’m still wondering how she made it out of first grade.” Nat teased you and she poked your side.

“I can’t believe she made it out of the womb in the first place with nobody telling her where to go.” Sam said, making everyone laugh loudly. You abruptly threw a dish in the sink, making everyone go silent. You tuned around slowly and faked a smile.

“Haha. Yeah.” You forced a laugh. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

You swiftly left the room before anyone could catch your tears. You felt stupid for even getting upset over it, but their words hurt. Feeling like you were always the dumbest person in the room was taking a toll on you, especially when you weren’t the only one who felt that way. Peter watched you leave with sympathetic eyes, feeling his own frustration bubble at the sound of the team laughing at you. He thought they had listened the first time he told them to stop making fun of you, but they clearly hadn’t. After seeing the pained look on your face, Peter made a decision.

It was never going to happen again.

“Ugh. I’m never gonna get this right.” Peter groaned as he messed up the move Steve was trying to teach him once again.

“You’re getting too much inside your head. Just let it happen naturally.” Steve instructed as he resumed his stance. Peter tried the move again, wiping out and landing on his side with a thud. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you spared with Nat.

“I can’t.” Peter got up and rubbed his arm. “I can’t do it.”

Steve nodded, like he was accepting Peters defeat. You stopped sparing and looked at Peter.

“Yes you can. Come on, Peter.” You encouraged him. “Everyone told Van Gogh that he couldn’t be an artist because he only had one ear but he did it anyway.”

The room feel silent, as it often did when you spoke, and everyone looked down.

“Oh dear Lord.” Rhodey sighed and hung his head and he snickered. You could see everyone else fighting back laughter or cracking a smile, yet saying nothing.

“What?” You crossed your arms in annoyance, looming to Peter for help.

“He chopped his ear off after becoming an artist.” Peter said kindly. “He wasn’t born without one.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Tony beat you to it.

“Speaking of ears, do you think of you shone a light in one of Y/n’s ears, it would come out the other ear?” Tony quipped, making everyone laugh. The tips of your ears burned as that feeling of stupidity sunk in again. You undid the Velcro on your boxing gloves and pretended to wipe sweat from your face as you rushed to the bin where the gloves went. You kept your back to the group and pretending to be putting your gloves away when you were really concealing your pained expression.

“Yes.” Nat jeered. “Yes I do.”

Your shoulders slumped with exhaustion as you turned around, making every effort to keep your face neutral. Your face didn’t give away any signs of sadness, but your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the bin gave your true feelings away. Peter noticed this and felt his jaw clench. If you weren’t gonna tell them to stop, he was.

“Leave her alone, guys.” He commanded the crowd before looking at you. “Thanks for the encouragement, Y/n. I’m gonna keep trying.”

“It’s fine.” You nodded curtly. “I’m gonna hit the showers. I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

You walked out of the gym, pausing in place when you heard Sams voice.

“Hit the showers?” He laughed. “We just started.”

“Shhh. Don’t confuse the poor girl any further.” Bruce joked back. You looked back at the gym with your eyebrows knit together, taking a quiet step closer to hear what they were saying about you without you there.

“She’s probably like, ‘whats this magic closet that makes rain?’” Rhodey imitated your voice, making you sound as dense as possible.

“Knock it off guys. It’s not funny.” Peter snapped, but the teasing continued.

“Or like, ‘this shampoo says it adds volume, but I used it and I can’t hear any louder than before’.” Tony mocked you, skipping around a little like a child. Your face contorted in misery as they made fun of you. You knew who they really were, and they were good people. They didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, they were only joking around like they did with everyone. Steve was teased all the time for his old fashioned dialect and no one lets Tony live down the kimono incident. Still, all their insults and mockery cut you like a knife.

“Ahh, I love that girl.” Nat shook her head with a smile. “She’s so dumb.”

“She may be slow, but she’s entertaining as hell.” Sam nodded in agreement.

“I said knock it off.” Peter repeated, getting a reaction this time.

“Aw. Peters mad because we’re teasing his girlfriend.” Nat pouted and pinched Peters cheek. She quickly realized how wholesome she was being and punched Bucky in the face to maintain her lethal assassin persona.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter grumbled. Now that you were out of the room, he was the next target.

“He’s right. Hey, maybe that’s why you guys haven’t gotten together yet.” Rhodey shrugged. “She’s too stupid to realize you’re in love with her.”

That was all you had to hear. You ran towards your with tears running down your face. Thanks to Peters advanced heating, he heard every heavy footstep.

“Okay. Maybe she is a little slow.” Peter shook his head in disdain at the team. “But you guys are idiots.”

You were quiet the entire way to Alaska, keeping to yourself and silently looking out the window. Peter attempted to talk to you once or twice, but he could tell you wanted to be alone. The Avengers completed the mission within a few hours with minor damage to the area. Peter focused on his job but found himself looking for you every now and then, being as you usually stayed together during missions. He didn’t see you anywhere and assumed you were doing your own thing on the other side of the field. He heart rest assured when he saw you boarding the jet, still looking reserved and aloof from the rest of the team. You took a seat by the window and rested your chin on your hand, looking out at the bleak landscape in front of you as the jet took off. Peter didn’t engage in small talk with the rest of the team and wistfully stared at you instead, silently willing you to cheer up.

“I think that went pretty well.” Rhodey nodded and the team agreed. “But where were you the whole time, Y/n? Picking daisies?”

Peter held his breath as you slowly turned around. You gave Rhodey a frigid smile and shook your head.

“We came during a blizzard so I used my powers to create a heated force field around the area we were in to prevent frostbite and give you guys and easier time seeing in the snow. We were also at a higher altitude than any of us are used to so I kept the air pressure to sea level standard.” You said simply. “And I assumed there would be smoke from the battle so I rounded up the nearby animals and made a separate for field around them to protect their lungs.”

The room went silent, something you were used to at this point. But instead of everyone falling silent because they were laughing at you, they were impressed.

“Oh.” Rhodey blinked in surprise, not expecting the answer he was given.

“I also picked this flower.” You smiled proudly as you produced a Forget Me Not from your lap. Peter couldn’t keep the grin from breaking through on his face. You were the center of attention once again, but in a good way this time. Everyone was pleasantly surprised with what you had done and it showed.

“I didn’t think about the altitude.” Nat realized.

“I had no idea there was a blizzard.” Steve added, looking dumbfounded.

“Because I kept you from knowing.” You shrugged. “I wanted you guys to focus on the mission.”

“I mean, I knew. I just didn’t tell you guys because I was so distracted by my buffed and polished nails.” Tony twiddled his fingers again, showing off his freshly manicured nails. You all laughed, breaking the tension in the jet.

“Well look at that.” Sam looked impressed. “Y/n knew something we didn’t.”

It was almost a compliment, but it still made you feel insecure. You didn’t want it to be this mind boggling every time you did something useful.

“Thanks, Y/n. That was really smart.” Peter said softly as he patted your knee. You put your hand over his and squeezed it. It was the first time someone called your smart, and it made you feel good.

“It was really smart.” Sam said skeptically. He stared at you for a moment before poking your side.

“What are you doing?” You swatted his hand away.

“Just making sure you’re still in there.” He eyed you suspiciously. Peter could sense the attention was making you uncomfortable and changed the subject.

“Are we almost home?” He asked Tony before peering out the window. The flight was a little over 7 hours on a normal plane, but the Stark jet was much quicker. The flight would only take a few hours, but Peter was not known for being patient.

“Yes, Peter. We are almost back at the tower. You can get your diaper changed and your bottle as soon as we get back.” Tony sassed him, making him shrink in his seat. Your body language had completely changed and your were now sitting straight, facing the group. Peter was glad you were feeling better and didn’t even mind Tony’s comment.

“Guys, let’s be civil. We’re all tired. We all want to get home.” You said calmly. “Let’s just focus on how pretty the sky looks tonight. Isn’t is pretty, Peter?”

He gazed at your profile as you looked out the window at the stars, admiring how pretty you looked from the side.

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.” He conceded without ever taking his eyes off you. You shot him a smile before looking straight ahead at the dashboard.

“Wow, the moon is huge!” You pointed time a large yellow crescent that could be seen through the window.

“That’s literally the reflection of my banana on the windshield.” Tony deadpanned. He may have been right, but it still looked pretty.

“Should we make a wish?” You asked Peter, ignoring Tony’s comment.

“On the banana?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nodded. “On the banana.”

“Why?” Rhodey asked. “It’s not like people wish on the moon.”

“It feels like we should.” You said with confidence.

“Yep. She’s still in there.” Sam chuckled. And just like that, your confidence receded.

“I hate it here.” Bucky sighed heavily and tuned out of the conversation.

“It must be so peaceful being you, Y/n.” Tony remarked.

“Why do you say that?” You wondered.

“Because instead of thinking about your problems and mistrials, you simply don’t think at all.” Tony said suavely. In only a better for minutes, you’d gone from being the hero to the laughing stock of the group. The sly comments and taunting laughter made you feel like you should stop opening your mouth entirely. You faked a smile and turned back towards the window, tuning out the rest of the way home. Peter chewed his lip as he stared at you, feeling useless to helping you out. The team just wouldn’t let up, no matter how many times he told them to stop. Knowing you weren’t in the mood to talk, he scooted closer to you and put a comforting hand on your back. You smiled warmly at him and rested your head on his shoulder, listening to him point out the constellations the whole way home.

The next day, you and Peter were sitting in the balcony, working on some new gadgets for Mr. Stark when Peter made a startling discovery.

“Where’s my right web shooter?” Peter stood up in a panic when he realized it was missing. “I left it right here.”

“Maybe a bird carried it off.” You shrugged as you twisted a tiny screw into Peters left web shooter.

“I’m being serious, Y/n.” Peter stated. “Mr. Stark is going to kill me and turn me into a decorative rug if I lost it.”

“I’m being serious too. We live in New York and I see birds around here all the time.” You told him as you continued your work. “And you know the pigeons here are feral. A bird probably stole it to pay for his child support.”

Peter usually entertained your antics and joined in with his own batch of sarcasm, but he wasn’t in the mood. His web shooter was missing and their were actual stakes involved. Without his web shooter, he couldn’t be Spiderman. And without Spider-Man, he couldn’t be an Avenger.

“Can you be serious for once?“ Peter whined, picking up everything on the table to look under it.

“I’m just saying it’s possible, Peter. You never know.” You insisted as you put your screw driver down to help him look. You began looking in the flower pots on the windowsill that you and Peter had planted. Peter stopped his search for a moment, growing angry with you for wasting time. He didn’t know if you were joking around or genuine believed his web shooter was in the flower pots, but it made him frustrated nonetheless. A combination of his lack of sleep and stress over losing the webshooter manifested into a moment of unchecked rage.

“No, it’s not possible.” He snapped. “A bird didn’t steal my web shooter. God, do you have to be so stupid?”

The word hung in the air for a moment, settling in to the both of you. Peters eyes immediately softened, feeling instant regret for what he had said. You stopped trifling through the plants and slowly turned around.

“What?” You asked quietly. Peter tightened his lips into a line and tried to justify what he had said.

“I try to defend you but you make it so hard. Can you help me out a little here and not be so…” He trailed off when he realized he had only made it worse. Your face hardened and you looked disappointed in Peter, which killed him. He would have preferred anger or even sadness, but the disappointment killed him.

“So what?” You shrugged. “Finish your sentence Peter.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“No, really, go ahead.” You stated coldly. “You got this far. So what, Peter?”

He looked at you for a moment, getting that feeling of wishing you could turn back time just a few seconds to fix a mistake.

“So dumb all the time.” He finished his sentence with an unsteady voice. Your face scrunched up in a pained expression as you sucked in and let out a shaky breath.

“You were the only one who never called me that.” You whimpered before moving past him and going inside. Peter watched you through the open balcony doors as you disappeared into the hallway with a heavy heart. His mouth was open to apologize, but you were long gone. He’d seen you being ridiculed so many times already, and now he was the one doing it. All that talk about it never happening again, only for him to be the reason it happened. Peter couldn’t live with himself for another minute without you knowing how sorry he was. He took a step towards the doorway until he heard a pigeon land on the table. He watched it curiously for a moment as it pecked at the screwdriver you had been using before picking it up with its beak. It flew over to the edge and began to walk along the railing, still keeping the screwdriver in his mouth. Peter followed the pigeon, walking all the way down the balcony to find a large nest in the corner. He watched as it dropped the screwdriver into its nest, right next to his web shooter.

“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter.” Peter said in disbelief. Peter watched as baby pigeons poked out from inside the web shooter to greet the other pigeon.

“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter for his kids.” Peters eyes widened even more than they already were. Realized struck him and his shoulders slumped.

“She was right.” He mumbled, angry at himself more than ever. “I yelled at her and she was right.”

Peter wasted no time in rescuing his web shooter from the birds, offering them a nice biodegradable coffee cup in its place, and ran to the kitchen to make you a peace offering. He knocked softly on your door and didn’t wait for an answer before going in.

“I made you this cup of tea as an apology.” Peter stiffly held out a mug with an awkward smile on his face. You looked at Peter from your bed, eyes puffy like you had been crying. You stared at each other for a long time, you with a death glare and Peter with his awkward smile. Neither of you said a word as Peter continued to hold out the mug. After two full minute of silence, a bead of sweat ran down Peters face as he looked around nervously, never breaking his smile. You let out an angry sigh and decided to throw him a bone, crossing the room to accept his mug. You looked into the cup for a moment before looking back at Peter.

“This is empty.” You deadpanned.

“I don’t know how to make tea.” Peter whispered, never breaking eye contact.

“I’ve seen you make it.” You snapped.

“I forgot how to do it.” Peters eyes shifted nervously to the side.

“Bucky was in the kitchen, wasn’t he?”

“I know he hates me.” Peter talked over you as you groaned. “I know he does.”

“Just go away.” You tried to close the door but he kept it open.

“No.” Peter said firmly. “I came in here to apologize.”

“You see this?” You held up the mug for a Peter to see. “It’s my cup of care. And look at that” ,you dumped the cup over, “it’s empty.”

Peter stared at your demonstration with raised eyebrows, surprised that you were still able to be sarcastic when he hurt you. Peter took the mug from your hands and set it on the ground before slowly looking up at your face.

“You’re not stupid.” He said softly with all the sincerity his heart could give. You scoffed and folded your arms, looking to the side when you felt tears sting your eyes.

“Yes I am.” You said like you fully believed it, which was Peters worse fear. “Everyone says so. Even you.”

It hit Peter like a sheet of glass when you looked at him like that.

Like he was someone you didn’t want around.

“I didn’t mean to say that.” Peter apologized. “That is not how I feel. At all.”

“Don’t act like you’ve never thought about saying that before.” You laughed sadly. “Everyone on the team calls me dumb. It was only a matter of time before you did it too.”

“I didn’t mean it.” Peter repeated. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Bullshit.” You snapped. “You’re so full of bullshit.”

“I’m not full of bullshit.” He whined like a child and gave you puppy dog eyes. “I’m full of regret.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as he gave you his best pout, willing you to forgive him. Finally, you caved and cracked a smile.

“I hate you.” You stamped your foot and hung your head, frustrated with yourself for not being able to stay mad at him. Peter opened his arms and you walked into them, arms still folded angrily. You bumped your forehead against his shoulder before moving to rest your chin on it as he wrapped his arms around you. Peter nestled against your hair and sighed, happy that you had forgiven him but still saddened that he had hurt you in the first place. He could see the pile of used tissues on your bed and it killed him to know he made you cry.

“I didn’t mean to call you that. I really didn’t.” He said softly. “I’m the one who’s been trying to stop people from saying that.”

“But they still do it.” You sniffled. “Everyday I get called dumb or stupid or scalene.”

“I think it’s obtuse, not scalene.” Peter reluctantly corrected you. You pulled away and little and let Peter wipe the tears from your face.

“Maybe they’re right.” You shrugged and looked Peter in the eyes. “Maybe I am dumb.”

Peter kept your face between his hands, staring at you for a moment before sighing.

“I once sneezed so many times in a row that I peed my pants.” Peter deadpanned. “I was 17.”

“What?” You chuckled as you wiped your nose.

“I saw Bucky try to take a piece of toast out of the toaster with his metal arm and electrocute himself.” He continued. “And I constantly see Tony bumping into glass doors.”

“I don’t understand.” You squinted your eyes, but sure what point he was trying to make.

“Steve still picks up the phone and asks for the operator. Nat leaves her curling iron plugged in all the time. I do not think Sam knows the address of where we live and I’m pretty sure Rhodey can’t do laundry. He gets all his stuff dry cleaned, even his socks.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You asked.

“Because were all dumb.” Peter concluded. “We all do and say dumb things. You don’t know where Alaska is and no one in this tower can read analog clocks. If we’re all dumb, then maybe none of us are dumb. Or we all are. Who cares?” Peter shrugged, making you laugh. “And you were right. A bird did carry off my web shooter. So no, you’re no dumb. Or stupid. Or obtuse. You’re, uh, you- you…” Peter looked down at he fumbled over his words.

“I’m what?” You raised an eyebrow. You could finish his sentence last time, but this time you were lost.

“You’re…” Peter tampered off again, staring at your confused expression for a moment before pulling you into a kiss. Your hands clenched into a fist and slowly uncurled as you relaxed into the kiss. Peter pulled away too soon and let his eyes flutter open. They met yours and you shared a moment of hesitation, not knowing what happened rest next.

“I’m gonna be honest lovey, I didn’t really have an ending to that sentence.” Peter chris joes softly, his breath fanning your face. “That was mainly improv.”

“You’re pretty good at improv, Parker.” You cracked a smile and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I did a little bit of theater in high school.” He shrugged smugly, making you giggle.

“Mmm. I severely don’t want to hear about that.” You teased before kissing him again.

“Oh, I think you do.” Peter remarked. “Because I once went to the bathroom during intermission with my mic still on and the entire audience heard me peeing.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland @damnyoudameron @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @wendaiii @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah @silteplaittais-toi @kickingn-ames @purefluff @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @ohnothezombies @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @quacksonfics @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @buckybigbutt @cookiemonstermusic258 @awesomebooklover17

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #avengers x you #avengers x reader #marvel #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader

7K notes · View notes

ziracona · 3 years ago

Text

T2 was okay and it could have been really good—had some real moments. But it needed more script iterations, and it was too goofy. Goofy is fine in general, but Terminator works best as a sci-fi action-drama-horror mesh. That’s the peak atmosphere. Also just, they gave their new Terminator scary powers to keep him relevant, but there’s just...no way to really make anyone on screen look like a threat to Arnold Schwarzenegger you know? And they never overcame that and it throws off the whole underdog atmosphere. He just. Wasn’t scary. Not when he was trying to kill heckin Arnold the brick house.

I’m not gonna talk about T3 bc I feel like I don’t need to and I think I have a lot of support for that in the fandom, and I’m not gonna talk any Genysis bc no one ever should, and I know I have support there.

Dark Fate was fine, but I felt like they really didn’t have to kill off their Kyle expy like at this point the surprising thing and interesting one would be /not/ to kill him. That role has died in /every/ other film. Like we get it. But plot rehashes are only good if you have some kind of spin. Mostly though I just...would have liked T800 man’s personality in another context but you couldn’t ever sell me on him after watching him gun down a 10 year old in the open. Like what, he found a soul by being...bored? If you want to convince me of fundamental change in a person, you /gotta/ motivate it better. Show me. Don’t tell me and expect me to take your word. And there just wasn’t enough meet in some spots. I wanted more firm lore and a little less action. Like I’m not even a science-heavy leaning sci-fi fan but it still wasn’t enough. I liked it more than most of the others but it just wasn’t quite...meaty enough. Sarah still a queen. But T800 man didn’t sell and that was a real weak spot, and so was expecting us and Sarah to just...like and forgive him bc he had accrued a family. But also like. I enjoyed having a new protag, but feeling like so much, no, /all/ of the work and suffering of everyone in other Terminator films was for nothing bc it’s not even Skynet anymore it’s some other robots?? It kind just...didn’t really work. It makes everything more hollow like it’s not even Terminator anymore there’s no more Terminators. They should have just had it be Skynet but a different rebel leader, or more. Sarah goes on to mentor Dani instead since John is dead, /something/ to make it more the same franchise and not so hollow. Or if it’s gonna be gutted, go all the way and let us feel that, don’t blip it as a plot point once and keep rolling. There’s decades of character attachment for fans; either make that matter, or make it mourned because it’s dead. Don’t skim it and make it cheap. Also on a meta level it was kind of weird how they handled time travel compared to the norm for the franchise but I’m not going into that.

BUT. The Terminator? A cinematic classic. It’s just...such a good film. The characters work is solid the whole movie, and Reese and Sarah are both truly excellent protagonists also given ample time to explore and exhibit that. There’s so much you get in moments that show tiny things about them. The way Sarah handles getting canceled on and goofing with Ginger, her having a pet iguana she loves to cuddle, talking to the statue at work? And she’s smart and normal (I mean normal in a very complimentary way). Kyle is introduced almost immediately running from the cops, but even in the middle of a chase scene, he’s stealing clothes in a mall while evading flashlights, and little things like hopping while he runs to check shoe sizes give you so much right away. He’s clearly out of his depth but he’s smart and methodical and he holes up in a car he hotwires and has a ptsd moment waking up from a dream because of some heavy construction machinery. You don’t have him say much about himself at all but you get him taking a second to be nice to the kids and guard dog on his way back before a T800 attacks. Even though if you’re watching it classic, you have no spoken goal for Reese and all you know is he’s armed and /also/ looking for Sarah, like the man who has killed three people already is, you kind of aren’t very scared of him by the time he’s creepily following her into a night club. That scene is iconic too damn. Anyway. Her reactions to everything are so great. Only film I ever saw where I 100% felt the person on screen was reacting like anyone would to almost being killed and then getting kidnap-saved by some other guy claiming to be from the future like I’d bite him too, but you know, I’d also be pretty happy he saved me and also decide he was crazy and not like, dangerous, and try to keep the cops from killing him. It’s so cute he thinks anyone is going to believe him like hang in there Kyle baby, king. Love as soon as the Terminator hits the police station, he breaks out and goes to find Sarah, and she’s immediately like ‘so fuck this actually’ and looking for him too. The deleted scene in the motel woods. The slow character build. Him falling in love with her because of the picture where she always looked a little sad and he wondered what she was thinking about and you don’t find out till the last scene it’s him she was thinking about in that picture. A family can be two complete trauma disasters making pipe bombs in a motel. The top 5 cinema shots moment where you think they won and they think they won and they’re both injured and stagger to each other and collapse laughing and crying and hugging and it holds for like ten seconds before that fucking thing gets up and you see the rubble in the fire shift and Kyle sees it first. And the hopelessness and despair. Sarah just screaming no in rage because it’s so unfair. The little scaffolding fight?? Kyle doing what he does? Sarah winning with a broken leg? The picture? The heartbreak? A work of art.

Also just. They’re both attractive but like, they are not remotely airbrushed Hollywood pretty. Kyle’s got that big scar on his lip and they’re both sweaty and bloody and dirty and gross the whole film??? God yeah.

Terminator Salvation? Also a classic. You have a film not about the core cast exactly, but it’s very ensemble. You get early days war. And it’s from the very open a solid narrative about second chances and what it means to be human and they really do explore that the whole runtime. Markus dies and comes back more confused than you are in the apocalypse. Baby Reese is absolutely perfect. You get formerly executed for murder Markus somehow adopting like 20 year old Reese and 13 year old kid Star and they’re amazing. Rebellion drama, lore reveals. Reese’s devout faith in the cause and how fast he looks up to Markus and starts learning and Markus is like :[ but then he’s like ... :] because he god assigned two family members now. The tag team fights—how incredibly talented Star is. Guilt trip on a look to dropping cars, she’s super effective. Tbh Markus is just O_O to >:-[ the whole movie as soon as Reese and Star are taken and I feel it. You’ve got a guy who was killed for straying too far from human, come back as a machine, but he doesn’t know it, wondering if he deserves another chance and if he can change, and it’s really neat the way it unfolds. Even after losing so many friends to Terminators that look human, Blair refuses to believe he isn’t a human even if he’s also a machine and risks her life to save him, when they barely know each other. Markus getting like, tortured by the rebels, and still choosing to help them and be who he has decided he wants to be this time, even towards John. Even with better alternatives. And you have Star never having a moment of doubt, or Reese, and him getting to save them both, and them trying to help the other humans in line for extermination before he arrives. The hand hold with Star when his hands just metal. And he decides to die for someone he doesn’t even /like/ and who has personally hurt him a lot of times, because he knows the rebels need him to win. Anyway death row to death row but completely different people in the same body facing that same death differently are amazing if done well (see TWDG I mean ow) and it was a very simple core theme to latch to and very enjoyable executed and it got snubbed by fans when it’s the best sequel Terminator ever had.

#thus concludes my spoiler heavy rant for why Terminator Salvation and The Terminator are the best two Terminator films #the terminator #terminator salvation #ramblings #spoilers #twdg spoilers #long post #sorry I had no idea how long this was

34 notes · View notes

whumperscorner · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! I've just discovered your whumpy FFXV fanfics and oh my gosh I absolutely adore your writing and ideas! I love a whumpy Prompto story! I've looked over the whump bingo and I think Prompto and "Strapped to a bomb" would be a really interesting/whumpy story! Of course please don't feel pressured to write this if you don't want to and I'm so sorry if this comes across as rude. I hope you have a lovely day!

Ah thank you anon! Don’t worry it definitely doesn’t come off as rude :3 I’m really happy you’ve enjoyed my writing!

Decided to try someone kinda new with this, going with Cor’s pov for the first time, so hopefully that will still be somewhat enjoyable eheh

BTHB #6- Strapped to a Bomb

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Prompto Argentum, Cor Leonis, Nyx Ulric (a little bit)

Whumpee: Prompto Argentum

Word count: 2568

Warnings: none

This work can also be found on ao3 :3

Cor lets his eyes finish skimming through the document in his hand. Then he throws it onto his desk along with all the other documents he’s read through and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s been a very long, very uneventful day. Glancing at his watch, Cor is relieved to find there’s now only a little over an hour until he can leave. Though of course then he has to make his way through the traffic of the streets surrounding the Citadel, which is always a nightmare at this time of day. Now with the furrow between his brows made even deeper than usual, Cor returns to the paperwork. He’s moving on to what he thinks should be the last document in the pile when heavy breathing and rushed footsteps sound through the otherwise empty corridor.

"Marshal-"

"What." Cor's voice is tinged with irritation. This better be damn important for someone to barge in right at the tail end of his workday.

"You’ve been summoned at the entrance," says the breathless recruit. "it’s something about your son."

It doesn’t even take a full second for Cor to react and be up on his feet. He grabs his jacket and phone and hurries out of the office along with the recruit. Not that it’s out of the ordinary for Prompto to come to the Citadel, whether it’s Cor he’s coming to see or Prince Noctis whenever he’s around. Normally he would just let himself in though, and that along with the frantic look on the recruit’s face - no, something has to be wrong.

"What’s the situation?" Cor asks, not bothering to look back and just assuming the recruit is following him as he strides down the hall.

"I don’t know, I was just told to get a hold of you quickly." Comes the answer from behind. Cor almost has time to get annoyed at the lack of information, but the recruit keeps going. "Glaive Ulric and Glaive Altius are there already, and when I left they'd started working to evacuate employees outside of the Glaive."

Cor curses under his breath. Evacuation of the other employees? He trusts Nyx and Crowe enough to make that call, but since they have it has to be something serious. Cor enters the elevator and taps his foot impatiently on the floor, infuriated by how slow the descent is seemingly going. His mind races through all the different possibilities for what could be going on, and how Prompto could be involved in it.

The familiar dingand the sound of elevator doors opening cannot come soon enough, and the second it does he's on the move again. It takes him almost no time at all, though still too long in Cor's mind, to make his way to the doors at the main entrance. From the vantage point there he can already see parts of what's going on. Further down the staircase are multiple glaives already at work. Cor recognises Crowe where she stands at the side, gesturing to the people around and obviously in the midst of the evacuation work. He spares a short moment to send the recruit, who is still following behind him, over in her direction with orders to assist in the evacuation work. Then he sees Nyx, standing a bit further down, and then finally he sees a familiar tuft of blond hair. Prompto is talking to Nyx. Cor can't hear what they're saying as he makes his way towards them, but he can tell from meters away that something is wrong with Prompto. It's the way he's holding himself, tense and unnaturally stiff in his movements.

When Cor is close enough, he sees Prompto’s eyes widen, and his mouth opens in a silent plea. Cor lets his own expression soften some and sends him a reassuring nod. It’s at least intended as one, but he’s not sure it helps. Prompto still looks so very scared, and it pricks Cor’s heart painfully. He's about to turn to Nyx, to demand an explanation as to what's going on, but his attention is caught by something else. Peeking through behind the half-open zipper on Prompto's hoodie is some foreign object.

"Open your hoodie Prom, let me see that." Cor says. His mouth feels too dry all of a sudden, but he keeps his voice low and calm despite it. Prompto shifts uneasily but complies. With two shaky hands he fumbles a bit with the zipper, eventually getting it up. What reveals itself is a jumbled mess of wires and various cylindrical objects in black and grey, all fastened together with tape and zip-ties, strapped around Prompto's stomach like a horrid belt. It's most definitely home made, but there's no mistaking it. Cor recognizes explosives when he sees them.

"The hell-" Cor hisses. Though he immediately regrets that and cuts himself off when Prompto shrinks in on himself as if the curse is directed at him. Worry and disbelief swirl around in Cor's stomach. He turns his head to Nyx so fast his neck nearly twists. "What's going on here?"

The look on Nyx's face mirrors Cor's own emotions, and the crease to his brows deepens as he answers in a hushed voice. "Crowe and I found him standing here just earlier, says someone put that," and he motions with his head towards the device. "on him and dropped him off here with orders to go inside. He didn't see their faces."

Now anger flares up in Cor along with all the other conflicting emotions. Someone had dared to put a godsdamn bomb on his son. Cor feels his body tense up, and his hands balling into tight fists. He wants his hands on them, to make them regret ever thinking they could touch Prompto. But that will have to wait, Cor knows it. The top priority has to be getting that thing off of Prompto safely. He bites back another curse by pressing his lips into a thin line and wills himself to loosen the fists, though the tension still lingers in them.

"Bomb squad?" He asks.

"Already called, should be here any minute." Comes Nyx's answer, and Cor nods. He'd rather they were there already, but pushes that thought aside, they'll just have to wait. He then turns his attention back to Prompto. His son's eyes are wide and fearful, darting in between Nyx and Cor. His hands clutch the ends of the hoodie hard but even then, Cor can see them trembling faintly. Now that nobody's talking anymore, he suddenly becomes aware of Prompto's breathing. How strained it is, coming in short, shallow gasps. As if he's trying not to breathe at all.

Now every part of Cor's body urges him to rush to Prompto's side. To reassure him and tell him that everything will be alright. He knows he can't do that but takes one calm step forwards regardless. "Prompto-"

"No!" Prompto gasps, jerking back a step and stumbling slightly. It catches Cor completely off guard, and he stops dead in his tracks. Lifting his hands in a placating manner.

"Wha-"

"Don't come closer, please." Prompto's voice is barely more than a whisper, but to Cor it seems he might as well have been shouting. "If- if it blows, I don't want to hurt you."

Cor feels like he's just been hit in the chest with something hard. This isn't how things are supposed to be. Prompto, his sunshine, should not have to be this scared- for himself or for Cor. Cor sucks in a sharp breath, and despite what his brain is screaming at him to do he takes a step back to where Nyx is standing. It takes considerable effort to keep his voice calm when Cor speaks up again. "Okay, okay. Prompto look at me," he urges, trying to hold his son's gaze intently with his own. "I'm going to be fine, and you're going to be fine. Do you understand?"

After another moment Prompto nods weakly, even as his eyes glaze over with unshed tears. Cor sighs, and wonders what on earth is taking the damn bomb squad so long. He's about to turn to Nyx with this same question when, as if on cue, Prompto's breath hitches and his eyes fixate on something over Cor's shoulder. He turns around and there, finally, he sees a group of about seven or so men and women prepped with armoured suits making their way down the staircase. It draws some stares and gasps from the few not in the Glaive who are still there, but thankfully the evacuation work has come so far that there aren't many around.

Cor lets his shoulders sag ever so slightly in relief as the woman who seems to be in charge of the group comes over to him and Nyx. They exchange a few words and what little information they have on the situation, and she nods in affirmation and begins her work. Ordering three of her people to secure the streets and immediate surroundings to the bottom of the staircase, and the rest to come with her as she movies calmly towards Prompto. Cor tries to send him another encouraging nod, but he looks possibly even more terrified than before. The wide, unsure eyes and trembling lips are not something Cor wants to see on his son's face ever again if he can avoid it.

"They," Prompto tries, but it comes out more a choked gasp than anything else, and he hurries to try again. "they said not to touch it." The words almost trip over themselves in the rush to get out, and Prompto sends Cor a pleading look. Almost desperate as members of the bomb squad are getting closer to him.

"These people know what they're doing, kid." Cor urges on, thankful that his voice carries such authority and doesn't betray any underlying worries. "Let them help. I promise it will all be fine." Anything else is out of the question, he thinks, but he doesn't say that. Instead opting to take on as soothing and confident an expression as possible.

Prompto nods again, but doesn't look any more convinced, letting slip a tiny whine when the approaching bomb technicians are close enough to touch. The woman orders the hoodie to be removed, and her associates make quick work of it. It's close to torture, Cor finds, having to stay where he is and only watch. Prompto stays stiff and unmoving as the hoodie is removed and thrown to the side, where Nyx goes to pick it up. In the clutter of people now around him, Prompto looks like a forlorn kitten, fixed to the ground and scared to move in any significant way.

"Timer?" asks the woman loudly.

"None ma'am." comes the answer.

At this the woman turns her attention back to Nyx and Cor. "We're sure it's timed?" She asks. "No chance it could be remote controlled?"

Cor opens his mouth to answer but to his great surprise, and the woman's too it seems, Prompto beats him to it. "It's timed," his voice shakes slightly as he speaks. "they said so when they dropped me off… f-fifty minutes." he stammers, then his voice dies down again.

A moment of stunned silence goes by, then the woman curses loudly. "You should have said so sooner!" She snaps. Cor sees how it makes Prompto shrink in on himself and hears his stuttered apologies. They need to figure out how much time they have left, and the last thing he wants is for Prompto to panic now. So he takes a careful step forward, intent on getting Prompto's attention away from the lady.

"Prompto look at me!" He implores loudly, cutting Prompto off in the midst of his train of apologies. "Just look at me. I need you to tell me how long you stood here before anyone arrived, can you do that?"

"I- 6 maybe 7 minutes, I think." He answers, swallowing hard. Cor nods at him again then hastily checks the time on his phone. It's been almost 30 minutes since he left his office, though to him it feels like much longer than that. Still, that doesn't leave them with much time, only a little under 20 minutes. Cor relays the information out loud, to which the woman nods and goes back to her work, not wasting another second on talking.

Through all this Prompto has been keeping his eyes locked on Cor, exactly as told. So Cor sees it the second he returns his attention to his son. That now with the working hands of multiple people back around his waist, and the knowledge of just how long he has left until an eventual untimely death- a little under 20 minutes, it's all too much. Cor can see it all swirling around in his head, can read it in his face. It's one of the effects of having cared for someone from when they were a small child, Cor knows his son, and he knows the breaking point is coming.

"Prompto," he begins softly, "keep your eyes focused on me, okay? Only on me, ignore anything else." Prompto nods, chokes out a sob, and lets the first few tears come. Cor sees them rolling down unhindered, and the wet streaks they leave on freckled skin. "It's okay," he hushes, barely even noticing that he's taken a few more steps towards Prompto. "you've been brave today. Now just let us fix the rest, okay? It'll be alright."

Cor keeps speaking softly like that for what somehow feels simultaneously like an eternity and no time at all. The tears are still running down Prompto's face, but he's managing to keep his attention mostly on Cor and not on the rest of the situation. It's working exactly how Cor was hoping it would. When, after some time, the bomb loosens from around Prompto's waist and movement surges all around it catches Prompto entirely off-guard. But not Cor. Cor rushes forward the second he sees that the explosives are removed and Prompto is being shoved away from them for the bomb squad to finish their work, and when Prompto stumbles Cor catches him. Relief floods through Cor's body like a breath of fresh air, and he wastes no time before dragging Prompto a few secure steps back. He's holding his son, and it's okay now.

Prompto cries for another while, not at all surprising given the rush and tension from the day, but he's at least safe. In a move uncharacteristically tender for Cor when they're anywhere other than the privacy of their home, he runs his hand through his son's soft hair and places a gentle kiss on his forehead. "You're okay Prom, you're okay."

The two are awarded some peace and quiet before Nyx comes to check on the two of them and provide them with the news that the bomb has been properly taken care of. When he does Cor gives him a grateful nod. He knows it's time for him to take Prompto home, but before that there's one last thing he needs to do.

"Make sure the security footage from today is thoroughly checked." Says Cor, his voice every bit as serious as the situation calls for. And now it's Nyx's turn to nod, knowing without needing to be told what he's on the lookout for. "I want them found and identified."

#whump #bthb #bad things happen bingo #rasko's bthb #final fantasy xv #strapped to a bomb #ffxv whump #prompto argentum whump #prompto argentum #cor leonis #papa cor #protective cor leonis #hurt/comfort #emotional whump #soft ending #my writing

19 notes · View notes

inkandpen22 · 4 years ago

Text

Time is Irrelevant (2/?): Vive La France

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x Female!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of death

Word Count: 4.5k (she’s long lol sorry about it)

Part Summary: Y/N wakes up dazed and confused. From then on, things only get more confused as she starts to realize she’s in 18th century France with a strange man.

Masterlist

I gradually open my eyes, my vision blurry at first. A bright light burns them and I feel as though I’m staring into the gates of Heaven. Then, the memory of what happened jolts me awake. Startled, I frantically scan my surroundings. I come to the horrifying conclusion that I’m no longer at the table in the student union. In fact, I have no clue where I am! I’m in a bedroom, on a bed with tall dark wood posts. The room looks too grand and vintage to be anywhere on campus. It’s baby blue walls and crown molding don’t exactly scream cinderblock dorm room. The furniture appears to be so detailed and too fragile to touch, which will be a problem because I woke up on the bed. Am I in a museum?

I stand up cautiously, afraid someone may barge in. I glance down and I see I’m in a white cotton nightgown. A grandma nightgown, seriously? How did I get here and why am I in grandma's pajamas? As I take in my appearance, I don’t see any injuries or bruising, that’s good. I feel alright, panicked, but alright. My brain is pounding against my skull. I can hear my mom now, ranting in my mind. She’d say, “don’t hurry to get up! You could have a concussion.” I rarely listen to her and I don’t plan on starting now.

I step closer to what appears to be a balcony and I peer out to get an idea of where I am. Leaning over the iron rail, I see a dirt road below. People crowd the streets, they maintain a loud banter. Their clothes, they’re odd. Wait, is that man wearing a white wig? Where the hell am I? A gold plated carriage goes by down the street and a man yells at the top of his lungs in what sounds to me as French. As I focus on the commotion, all I hear is French. I take note of the architecture of the surrounding buildings and it all is very French, specifically Parisian. I’m not an expert who has never been to France but I would say the architecture of Paris is pretty iconic. Wait no, this can’t be real! It couldn’t be possible in Paris! How could I possibly be in the United States one minute, then wake up in France? It’s not possible. My heart drops, I’ve been kidnapped and taken out of the country!

“Good! You’re awake!”

I jump at the sudden voice. When I whip around, I spot the strange man from before entering the room.

“Put this on,” he instructs, tossing me a gown nonchalantly. “You stand out like a lily in a field full of daisies.”

I take in his appearance. He’s decked out in colonial-era clothing like the cluster of people down below. My mind screams, reminding me that this is all ridiculous. There’s no way I’m in France and there must be a good reason as to why everyone is dressed as though we’re about to go eat some cake with Marie Antonette. I snickered lightly, baffled at the idea of any of this being real. I’m clearly still asleep.

“Y/N!” The strange professor snaps his fingers and I'm pulled from my thoughts. “Please, before we’re late!”

I snap out of the daze and remember that this man has kidnapped me. Chucking the dress onto the bed, I proceed to bark at him. “Where am I?! Where have you taken me?!” My voice progressively escaping me in screams.

He grins slyly, staring into my soul. “I believe you've already figured that out for yourself…”

I shake my head, laughing at what he’s suggesting. He must think I’m an idiot. He narrows his eyes at me, curious.

“Oh please,” I tease him. “You can’t possibly think I would believe any of this? I’m in college, not kindergarten! Now, let me go!” I start to approach the door but he steps in my way.

His fingers wrap around my forearm with a forceful grip. “Look Y/N, we don’t have time for this! You ARE indeed in France. You ARE in 1778! Now, get dressed! We can’t be late!”

I stare into his eyes as he shouts this nonsense to me. The miniature oceans that encompass them. They have this electricity about them that draws me in and I feel hypnotized. Yet, I must remain level headed if I plan on escaping and surviving this.

Aggressively, I yank my arm free. “Let go of me you psycho! Have you lost your mind? There’s no way-”

The professor wraps his arm around me and presses his free hand over my mouth. I scream for someone to help, but my words are muffled against his hand.

“But it is!” He argues, “I possess the ability to time travel! Okay! The Eye of Harmony, Rassilon's Star, it exists!”

Upon hearing his words, I stop fighting him, utterly stunned. His hands ease off of my face and release my arm. My chest rises and plummets at an inconsistent rate. There are very few people who speak of the star. It’s legend, ancient mythology, lost in history.

“But…” I struggle to find the words, “but that's not possible.” My volume has lost its touch. My words flowing out like little puffs of wind.

“But it is! Now, get dressed and I’ll explain everything!” He tells me, seemingly eager to clear the air.

I watch silently as he turns to leave abruptly. Does he drop the bombshell that he may have the most powerful stone in the world then goes to leave? Of course, he would.

As he walks away, he presses, “we have somewhere we need to be and soon!”

Processing the situation, I take matters into my own hands. “Will you just wait for a second?!”

Irritable, he crosses his arms, “what it is?”

“I believe I deserve some sort of explanation! Now! I’m not going anywhere with you until you give me some sort of explanation now!”

He huffs, rubbing his temple. “We’re in France! I need you in that dress! We have an appointment and running late! There’s your explanation! Now if you’ll please,” he gestures towards the gown on the bed.

Swallowing hard, I comprehend the fact that he won’t be so forthcoming with me. I’ve seen plenty of thrillers where a girl is kidnaped and she acts out or doesn’t do anything which leads to her demise. I always shout at the girls to play along until the right opportunity arises. For all I know, I’m somewhere close to school and he’s messing with my head. All I’m sure about is I have to make it home.

“1778 you claim?” I clarify as I pick up the dress on the bed. As I examine the attire, I’m reminded of how uncomfortable women dressed. “This should be interesting...” If I’m going to play along I’ll need the proper attire and this isn’t it. I huff, “I’ll need a corset, heels, shift, pannier-”

The professor waves his hands for me to quiet down. “Yes! Yes, I know! I’ll be sending Joséphine in to help you. Any further questions?”

I shake my head, still struggling to cope.

“Very well,” he bows his head. As soon as he appeared he disappears into the halls. As soon as the door shuts, I feel as though I’m on the verge of fainting. I stumble over to the balcony in search of an escape route. I may only have minutes before he returns.

“I must be dreaming,” I tell myself to remain sane.

He’s really taking this whole charade about time travel seriously. Apart of me wishes to believe what he’s saying is true, the part of me that loves history blindly. If I’m truly in 1778 Paris that would incredible. Yet, I know logically time travel is impossible. Except, according to legend, the Eye of Harmony is said to allow time travel. Of course, that’s just ancient mythology, folklore. There’s no one alive that’s seen the star.

I watch the people in the streets below in awe. It all seems so real, the wagons, women dressed in corsets, and men dressed like the Founding Fathers. He must’ve drugged me, that’s the only explanation. Suddenly, the door creaks behind me and I jump like a scared cat. A lady, whom I assume is Joséphine, enters the room.

“Bonsoir Madame,” she greets me with a curtsy.

“Bonsoir…” I mutter, terrified but trying to remain calm.

Joséphine offers me a reassuring smile. I’m guessing she’s about my age, perhaps a few years older but not much. She guides me over to the vanity gently. At first, I stay as still as a statue. I watch as she picks up a few containers on the table and skims the labels.

“Ah oui!” She blurts out, apparently, she’s found what she was looking for.

After she selects a brush from the jar, she prepares to start on my makeup but I stop her.

“I’m okay, really! I just-”

“Non, non, non,” she objects. “ce soir madame vous devez avoir l'air parfait!”

Great, so if this really is 1778 then I’m about to get a heavy dose of lead poisoning. This white powder she’s spreading on my face makes me look like Casper. I respect the bold fashion of this era but rosy cheeks, cherry lips, and silk white skin, not my best look.

Once I’m suffocating in my dress, she pushes me down into the chair in front of the vanity and roughly yanks my auburn hair up. I study in the mirror as she pins my hair down to my scalp and digs the pins into my head. How the hell am I supposed to balance this clump of hair on my head? It’s taller than my entire head.

“Ouch!” I bark.

“Pardon, Madame,” she apologizes softly.

After I appear the part, Joséphine leads me through the house. It’s beautiful. The detail in the crown modeling and art-like wallpaper are so unique. I gawk at the walls as we walk through each room. She leads the way through the double front doors to a carriage where I’m met by the strange professor.

“Merci,” I thank Joséphine, though the experience wasn’t the most enjoyable.

She bows her head and leaves to return inside. I approach the professor, who’s dressed in the traditional french male attire of the time, wig in all. For a moment, it takes my breath away. I read so many books and seen so many movies about the era but nothing as felt more real than this.

“Nice wig,” I tease a bit, stifling a giggle.

“Dido,” he jokes in return.

“My head feels ten pounds heavier,” I poke at the cotton ball on my head. “How do I balance it?”

“You’ll learn. Takes practice.” The professor chuckles then snap his fingers for the footman to open the door of the carriage. Gesturing toward the door, he allows me to enter first.

I swift my gaze toward our mode of transpiration. I’ve never seen an authentic 18th-century carriage of this magnitude. The gold frame and light baby blue fabric are luxurious. I can only imagine how much history is within this carriage, at least will be I suppose.

“Are you admiring it or afraid of it?” The professor chuckles beside me.

“It’s… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I’m not saying I entirely believe him with his fairytales but nonetheless, this experience so far has been like passages from my textbooks. I can feel him staring at me as I examine the carriage. It’s all too remarkable for me to look away.

“I see Joséphine did your hair and makeup as well, good,” He states with a grin. “If we’ll be at court, you’ll need to look the part.”

Before I have the chance to question his meaning, he offers me his hand to help me into the carriage. I’m hesitant. After all, this dude did kidnap me. As for his reasoning, I’m still in the dark. All I know is, possibly, that I’m in an entirely different country and almost three hundred years in the past, so he claims. I have no idea who he is or why he has me here. Yet, for some strange reason, I find myself trusting him slightly and against my better judgment. It’s his eyes. Every time I fall into them my gut tells me to trust him.

The professor sits across from me and settles in. The footman shuts the door and the driver calls to the horses to go along.

“Court?” I interrogate him, “as in the royal court?”

“Yes, precisely,” he replies as if it makes perfect sense.

He must be bonkers! There is no way we could be on our way to Versailles during the era of the monarchy and dressed like this!

“Right, right…” I raise a brow, “and who is king exactly?”

He rubs his hands up and down his thighs nervously. “That’s where you come in!”

“Me?!”

Quite frankly some rulers were just plain crazy and were temperamental! Plus, the French and English were constantly at war during the 18th century! This isn’t the time to visit for peace and quiet.

He scoffs, leaning forward to keep his voice down. “That’s the reason you’re here Miss Historian! You’re in charge of knowing everything about every century we visit!”

I narrow my eyes, “every century? Last I checked I never agreed to travel across time with you?!”

If that’s even what we’re doing. If he expects me to go to another destination with him he’s sorely mistaken.

He grins, not believing me for a second. “Oh, so you much rather go home? Sit behind a desk instead of meeting the very people you’re studying?”

If any of this was true, he’d have a point. I’ll never grant him the satisfaction of admitting that.

I scoff, “fine! You said it was 1778, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right,” he answers quickly.

“Okay… ” I stare up at the ceiling to focus, reviewing my knowledge of the French monarchy. It appears in my mind like a timeline. I mumble, “1778… that’s in the middle of the American Revolution which means it’s before the French Revolution so the king would be… oh my god!”

My hand flies up to my mouth. I can’t believe it! If this man is telling the truth, then we’re in quite the most interesting year.

His eyes widen in horror and he grips my hands between us. “What?! What is it?!”

“Louis XVI! Louis XVI is the king! Oh, this is too good! Marie freaking Antoinette! Seriously? I can’t believe this!” I squeal, jumping up and down in my seat uncontrollably, causing the carriage to rock.

A part of me is starting to fall for the man’s word, perhaps I really am in 1778. At least then I could actually meet Louis XVI. For a second, I felt myself believing wholeheartedly.

“Is he cruel?! Kind Hearted?! Best king France has ever had?!”

I laugh, has he never picked up a history book?

“Sir, have you never heard of Louis XVI before? He’s infamous! What about the French Revolution? I mean… if we really are where you say we are, we’re living in it!”

He pouts, peering at me like an offended child. “No actually, I have heard of him! I guess you could just say he’s after my time. I’m better acquainted with his father,” he adds in a mutter.

I scrunch my eyebrows, “after your time? How could he be after-”

He cuts me off, “forget it. I’ll explain at a better time. As for now, your job is to inform me of everything I need to know about the French court. I know how to handle royalty and the protocol. All I need is for you to help me with the background information on these individuals. Though all royals are superficially the same I have to gain their trust on a personal level. In exchange, I’ll help you play the part of a lady of the court.”

I huff as I readjust my skirt, somewhat offended. Simply because I wasn’t born an aristocrat with a stick up my butt doesn’t mean I don’t know how to act civilized.

“I know how to be a lady! I can curtsy and whatnot!”

He stifles a laugh, raising a brow. “Y/N, have you ever even met a royal?”

He’s right once again. In my defense, America isn’t exactly crawling with monarchs. We got rid of that whole issue centuries ago.

“No��” I timidly admit.

He has a point, which annoys me. I may have been taught table manners and proper etiquette by my grandmother growing up but her rules are nothing compared to a royal court’s. I would be walking into a lion’s den without Danny’s guidance.

“So then, do we have a deal?” He holds out his hand. A mischievous grin coats his lips.

For all I know, I could be agreeing to anything. He could turn back on his word at any moment. I don’t trust him, not in the slightest. Yet, If I agree for the time being, it could buy me my freedom. I take a chance.

I shake his hand, “deal.”

His eyes widen, “almost forgot!”

He reaches into his frilly French jacket pocket and reveals a key. A standard old, metal key with a long string attached.

“You’ll be needing it.” He assures me as he shifts toward me and begins to put it around my neck.

“What is it?” I ask, still in awe.

“A key…” He sasses.

“Ugh,” I roll my eyes, “obviously! I’m asking why do I need it?”

“It’s to my Tardis,” he states as though everyone has one.

“What the hell-”

The carriage jolts to a stop abruptly. Soon, the driver opens the door for us and offers his hand for assistance. My mind is still focused on the blast the professor just sent in my direction. I’m still stuck on his statement, he’s after my time. What did he mean by that? Then, I learn that magic is basically real, along with time-travel.

My train of thought is soon interrupted by the professor calling my name. I hadn’t noticed him climb out of the carriage I was so deep within myself. I accept the hand of the driver and step down out of the carriage. Many of them that are similar to our own are lined up single file. Danny offers me his arm which I take instantly. I gawk at the copper-colored palace with gold embellishments. I’ve always wanted to visit Versailles. I never would have guessed it would be in this setting. I imagined hundreds of tourists with their phones out, too occupied to enjoy the magnificence in front of them. Instead, I’m surrounded by men in bright colored breeches and women wearing wigs that could reach the heavens.

“Are you alright?” he peers down at me, worried.

“Yes, it’s just… I’ve never seen anything like it,” I admit, breathlessly.

Men and women dressed in extravagant jewels and clothes. Only the highest social figures are gawking at the palace, arm in arm.

“It’s the king’s twenty-fourth birthday ball,” he informs me as we stroll into the palace doors behind various couples of the time.

My pulse must be through the roof I’m so anxious. My mind is racing. Danny is putting on a convincing show that we belong here. He has is his role well-rehearsed it appears.

“Stay close,” he instructs, searching the entrance hall.

I grip his arm, halting before we go in.

“What is it?” The man questions.

“What your name?” I comprehend I’ve never learned it. With everything going on, there was never a proper moment. Now, I realize there will never be.

“I’m the Doctor,” he answers with a sly grin.

“’ The Doctor?’ Well, I’m sorry to break it to you but there’s more than just one doctor in the world,” I laugh, this man can’t be serious.

“No,” he huffs, “my name is Doctor. I’m a... you know what, never mind. I’ll-”

“You’ll explain later,” I finish.

“Look at you catching on quickly,” he compliments and pinches my cheek. I swat his hand away with a frown. Geez, he’s annoying. He’s like the Energizer bunny in human form.

“Let’s head inside,” he instructs, guiding me along.

I adjust my skirt briefly, correcting any wrinkles from the ride here. He clears his throat and my eyes meet him as he gestures toward the ceiling with a smirk. It takes every cell of my being and a lot of self-control to not let my jaw drop. Absentmindedly, my arm falls from the Doctor as he continues to walk down the Hall of Mirrors and leaves me in awe of the architecture. I slowly come to a stop as I become engrossed in the details.

It suddenly hits me like a pile of bricks, this is all real. Everything the Doctor has said must be true. I went along with his word but now I truly believe it. The hand-painted ceiling, the solid gold statues that reflect in the mirrors, the marble walls surrounding them, and the crystal chandeliers that line the grand hall. The remaining light of the setting sun pours in through the windows and bounces off the floor. There is no possible way Versailles could be like this in modern times, it’s far too untouched and pristine. This means I’m honestly, without a doubt, in the year 1778. My heart feels as though it’s plummeted to my stomach. Oh my God, this is remarkable! This is every history lover’s dream! I’m living out my textbooks. I’m experiencing history first hand!

It must’ve taken the Doctor very little time to notice my absence. He calmly approaches me, visibly aware of my clear baffled state. I believe my reaction is valid considering the circumstances.

He whispers, “is it what you imagined based on your history books?”

I shake my head, nearly speechless. All I can do is gawk at everyone and everything around me. “It’s beyond anything I could imagine!” I finally break my attention away from the exquisite art to meet his gaze. “I believe you,” I confess to him.

Slight grin forms on the edge of his lips and his eyes fall to the floor with a slight chuckle. “I always knew you would…” He mutters under his breath.

Offering me his arm, he escorts me into a crowded ballroom. The Doctor must know the layout of the palace quite well unless he’s simply following the flow of the crowd. An orchestra plays in the background as drinks are passed around by servants with trays. I spin around slowly, staring up at the ceiling and chandeliers. All of the stories in these walls, the royals that have lived here, what will become of this palace, my head is spinning as I review the details. The music comes to a sudden halt along with the movement and banter in the room. All attention turns toward the double doors across the ballroom as they swing open. People shuffle closer, peering over each other’s heads to sneak a peek. Trumpets play a melody familiar to anyone, the signal of the King and Queen entering the room. Through the space between heads, I can see glimpses of the young notorious couple. Marie Antoinette’s tall and decorated wig, her pale and porcelain-like skin, her extraordinary gown, all perfect. The crowd disburses and form their miniature groups again. The Doctor snatches two champagne flutes from a passing tray and hands one to me.

“Doctor,” I whisper to him cautiously, in case of prying ears. “Why are we here? Don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic but I don’t understand the purpose?”

He pulls me aside behind one of the pillars for some privacy. He scans the room to make sure no one is watching us. His actions have me wondering if our purpose here could put us in danger.

“How much do you know about the monarchs and the palace itself?”

My brows rise in astonishment, I start to question myself on how he doesn’t find the answer obvious by now. I spent a whole semester studying King Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette, the French Revolution, and Versailles alone. Of course, that doesn’t make me an expert by any means but I would say I’m well-read.

He catches on to my sass and dismisses it. “Fine, fine fine, so you know a lot! Tell me more please!”

I nod, gathering the important bits from memory to summarize it all. To condense all of this history into such a brief yet crucial conversation is anything but fun.

“Okay well, I think the most important fact we have to consider is currently Her Majesty is pregnant with the couple’s first child. The baby will be a girl. Her name will be Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte de Bourbon. The couple will attempt to have more children, to have a male heir, but none will live past the age of eleven. The French Revolution won’t begin for another ten years. Both the King and the Queen will lose their lives, sadly, along with many members of the aristocracy. Then, Napoleon will become emperor. As for Versailles, it was completed in 1668 for King Louis XIV. During the revolution basically, everything will be taken from here. In modern times, the 21st century, most of it will be returned. That’s a summary of some basic information.”

The Doctor gawks at me, “you know all of this by heart? You wonderful little human. How do you memorize it all?”

I shrug, glancing in the direction of where I last saw the royal couple. “I suppose I’ve always cared so much about these people and their stories that it never really leaves me.”

The unfamiliar faces in this room are forming the world I must live in hundreds of years from now and none of them know it. The world will be completely altered by the end of the century. Every single person in this room is set to believe their roles here are unwavering. Little do they know that in less than a decade, all of it will be gone, nothing but a memory.

“I forgot to mention,” The Doctor mumbles and holds up the key that has slipped beneath the front of my dress. “Never lose it. Draw as little attention to it as possible. While we’re here, your job is to play Miss Know-it-all and mine is to find this journal.”

We’re interrupted by the grandfather clock when it dings in the corner. The Doctor’s head whips over in its direction, he checks the time.

“I have to go,” he informs me in a rush.

“But I-” I start, having a million questions.

“I’ll be back. Blend into the crowd! We’ll leave as soon as possible,” he instructs before disappearing into the cluster of people.

I stand awkwardly alone, afraid to move the slightest step. I’m surrounded by a bunch of dead people. Well, they’re not dead now, but when I’m alive they will be. I’m Versailles, holy shit! And I’m not even on a tourist trip to Versailles, no I’m at a ball in the Revolution Era! I would jump up and down squealing but I doubt that’s allowed. Instead, I’ll just smile to myself like an idiot and sip on this champagne.

__________________

Masterlist

#eleventh doctor x reader #doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x you #eleventh doctor #doctor who #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfic #dw #fanfic #imagine

45 notes · View notes

allthingshetalia · 5 years ago

Note

Can I please get the allies for the masturbation question? Please? Also I love your posts and DAMN YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING!!! (I almost wrote wrriteing which would have been interesting.

💕Awww thank you so fricking much! And thank you to everyone who sent in this request lol I was a little scared at how risky it was but I’m glad it paid off💕

⚠️nasty content ahead⚠️

America

His eyes lulled to the back of his head as his hand picked up its pace. A single scenario played in his head that threatened to throw him over the edge. As soon as the time came though his hand would slow, wanting to continue his little daydream.

“Easy, my sweet girl.” He chuckled. He grabbed your hips and realigned you with the head of his throbbing cock before pushing your hips back down. You gasped loudly and dug your nails into his tanned chest. He flashed you a movie star smile before gently guiding your hips in an up and down motion. His thumbs massaged your hips softly before tightening when you slammed down on him extra hard. Both of you groaned loudly. The fan whirled above you causing your heated skin to cool down slightly.

One of his hands removed itself from your hip and moved it so it was squeezing onto your butt cheek. He pushed your hips back slightly causing his member to hit your spot dead on.

“Fuck.” You cursed. Your hips were torn between slamming down on his at a rapid pace or slowing down because the pleasure was almost to much. Alfred made that decision for you as he pushed his hips up into yours while holding your down against him so the impact of his cock was ten times more.

Your eyes went to the back of your head and you leaned the upper part of your body so your chest was flat against his. You couldn’t feel anything in your body except for him and the heat in your stomach.

He laughed at you before burying his face in the top of your head. He picked up his pace even more and deep groans and pants fell from his lips. The only thing you were able to do was to cling to him and moan his name over and over and over.

England

God did he miss you. He felt stupid. You two weren’t even an item and yet here he was in his hotel room with a bottle of whiskey missing you terrible. His thoughts always seemed to be lingering on you. The way your smile makes him smile. The way your eyes light up when you see him. The way you always seem to have something interesting to say. The way your body would feel against his. The later thought was the one that was on his mind the most tonight.

Your body shook as yet another orgasm wracked your body. You pressed your back against his chest hoping you would get some sort of comfort as your whole body twitched and tighten. His hands held on tightly to your hips and you wouldn’t be surprised if you had to large handprints there the next morning. He pressed you deeper onto the counter top you were laid over. He made sure to place a towel over the edge of it so your hips didn’t have harsh line bruising. The only type of bruising you were allowed to have would have come from his mouth or hands.

He pressed an open mouth kiss against your neck before continuing his quick deep pace. His teeth tugged at the skin in your neck before making their was down to your shoulder. You whined as his thick member scraped the inside of your over sensitive walls. You grabbed his hand that was on the counter next to you. He didn’t pay any attention to you as he pressed your lower half against the counter again causing his hard cock to go deeper into you. One of his hand that was holding your hips left and ran up the back of your scalp before grabbing a large handful of your hair.

His thrusts seem to increased and he reveled every time your tight pussy squeezed and shuddered against him.

Moaning his name as you came undone again, he pulled out of you. The hardness poked at your lower back as his hand came down and smacked your ass. He smiled at the small red mark forming and the way you jumped and looked back at him with wide eyes. He spun you around so you were facing him and he picked you up and put your butt on the counter. “You’re so beautiful my little pet.” He smiled. His accent was heavy and he practically groaned out the statement. He leaned forward placing a small kiss against your forehead. You cuddled against him, happy to have some small form of comfort after he used you so harshly. His hands rested themselves on your knees before pushing your legs apart.

“More!?” You questioned in disbelief. He chuckled.

“Yes my darling. I used you for my own enjoyment before. Now it’s time to show you just how much I missed you.”

France

“You are so beautiful my little rose.” He murmured. His hands went up and softly stroked your bare side. You blushed and pulled some bubbles closer to you as if you were hiding. “None of that.” He scolded gently. He pushed the bubbles away from you exposing more of yourself to him. You leaned against his back and enjoyed as his hands working soft circles into your skin.

His hand went under your chin and he tilted your head up to look at him. Kissing you gently he smiled at you. “I will never understand how I was able to go so long without you.” He murmured. You bit your lip to stop a smile. Twisting your body so you were straddling him you pressed your forehead against him. The water in the tub created little waves from the sudden movement.

“I didn’t even exist.” You laughed. “But now that you do, I can see why it would be so hard to imagine life without me.” You giggled in fake cockyness. He only smiled at your silliness. The look of complete love and adoration on his face seemed to have stirred something inside you. After all nothing seemed to be sexier than knowing you were completely and utterly loved and wanted by someone. You turned around so your chest was pressed against his as you kissed him passionately. He wrapped his large arms around your waist. Holding you as close as he possible could. His lips left yours and he pressed them to your neck.

Light brushing decorated your neck for your other nights of passion causing him to smile. He took you by surprise when his hand darted in between your thighs. His middle finger pressed against your clit circling it softly. Your body shuddered and you bit down on his shoulder. You pushed your hips against his hand and he quickly took the hint not wanting to tease you. You pushed his middle finger into your tight, awaiting hole. He curled his finger causing it to rub directly against you g-spot. You cursed lightly under your breath and buried your face in his wide shoulder.

Once he felt you tighter around his finger he quickly pulled his hand away and (before you could complain) he replaced it with something much more pleasurable. He groaned loudly as his cock pushed back your tight walls. He kissed the side of your head before lifting you body up so it was just the tip. He pushed you back down and you swore you saw stars as his girth stretched you out perfectly.

The mirrors surrounding the two of you gave him the perfect view of your beautiful face. Small creases etched themselves into your forehead and your eyebrows were upturned lightly. Your mouth was agape letting out small whimpers and gasps. It truly was a beautiful sight.

Loud knocking on his door caused his heated blue eyes to snap open. Groaning softly he turned his shower off and wrapped a towel around his waist. He stared at his bath tub longingly before walking through his bedroom. Opening the door half way he was able to see your sleepy, smiling face. An uncharacteristic blush heated his face up as he suddenly felt bad for thinking of your precious face in such a way.

“Good Morning my little rose. How did you sleep?” He asked gently. You smiled at him but bit your lip nervously.

“I slept really good! I know this so rude especially because I’m just a guest but when is breakfast?” You giggled, wanting nothing more than some comforting food. His heart swelled at the thought of you wanting his food enough to come and knock on his door.

“I’ll be down in just a second! I just have one thing I need to finish.”

Russia

Vanya = Ivan in Russian

You two were best friends and inseparable when together. So the fact that you were curled up on his chest to take a nap wasn’t uncommon. His long fingers skimmed up and down your back even after you had fallen asleep. Your soft breathing and warm body caused him to become on the brink of slumber himself.

A soft moan escaping your lips caused his eyes to fly wide open though. Thinking it was just his imagination he relaxed.

“Vanya.” You mumbled. You shifted slightly in your sleep and clutched his shirt. His heart was beating a million beats per second. “Vanya.” You murmured. You drew out the last syllable of his name like you did when you wanted something. Your lips brushed against his neck as you spoke. A shiver ran down his spine and his mind thought of all the possible things you could be thinking. Another moan escaped your lips causing his last strand of self restraint to snap.

He lightly picked you up and placed you back on the soft bed. He grabbed his pillow and tucked it under your arm, and you quickly snuggled your body into it. Getting up off the bed he practically bolted to the bathroom. He decided it would be best to use the one down the hall instead of the one in his bedroom. Closing the door behind him he quickly yanked down his pants and his mind went to the same scenario it always did when he pleasured himself.

“VANYA!” You shouted. Your little body that was trapped under him shook as he continued to slam in and out of you. He sat up on his knees and watched as his large cock disappeared and reappeared inside your small cunt. “Vanya.” You whimpered his name this time and gripped onto his arm for support.

“Is it too much for you?” His tone was almost condescending as he slowed his thrusts down. You wracked your brain for an anwser but the only form of response he got was you pitifully moving your hips against his. He watched as you were only able to get around half of him in you, before squirming and whining. He pushed a little bit more of himself into you but not all the way. He pulled back out and continued the cycle a few thrusts. “Can you not take my whole cock?” His words caused you to tighten around the part of him that was in you. You quickly shook your head.

“I can.” You mumbled. Your pussy ached in need as you pressed it up against him. You were slowly able to relax and felt your walls stretching to the max as you finally made your way to the base of his cock.

“That took you a long time.” He commented. You blushed and moved your hips against him. “And look at you. It’s still not enough.” He smirked. He just barely pulled out of you before shoving himself back into your tight heat. “You’re so beautiful. And you’re all mine, da?” He asked. He bent back over you kissing your chest sweetly. He looked up at you with fiery violet eyes. You nodded your head rapidly.

“Da! All yours.” You panted. He seemed extremely please with your answer and picked up the pace of his thrusts.

China

‘I’m too old to be feeling this way.’ He gumbled to himself. He sat down on his couch and rested his head while closing his honey eyes.

You had just come over for a some tea and to chat about some things happening in both of your lives. He smiled as he remembered the way your cute face smiled as he opened the door. You simply were too cute for this cruel world. Every time you came around you made his heart flutter and a heat rise in his stomach. He knew it was way more than just lust. He let his mind wander for a while thinking about you and what it would be like if you two were together.

You gasped softly and tucked your head under his chin. Both of you were laying on your side. He gripped your hips and pulled your thigh to keep it on his waist. His chest was sweaty as was yours causing you both to stick together in the most beautiful way possible.

His pace was slow as he just desired to keep you close to him. His member stroked your g-spot, as he just barley left your core before pushing his way back in. Moaning him name softly you leaned up and placed a passionate kiss against his lips. You tangled your fingers in his hair and tugged at it lightly. Groaning softly he rolled over so you were pressed against the mattress. Hoisting your leg over his shoulder the new position caused him to hit deeper than before and you moaned his name in appreciation. Before you could barely have a chance to say anything the bubble inside your stomach burst and he groaned as your walls tightened around him and caressed him causing his own orgasm to bubble over.

Canada

You moaned softly and smiled up at him.

“It’s so good Mattie.” You smiled. You quickly shoved another spoonful of pancake into your mouth another moan escaping your closed mouth. He felt blood rush to his head and other head. The thoughts he had about you this morning didn’t help.

The loud sound a skin slapping and loud pants and moans filled the bathroom. The room was hot a foggy because of the hot shower that was running.

“Mathew!” You shouted. Your body was sandwiched between him and the wet tiles of the shower. You stared into the eyes of your lover as he slammed in and out of you. He held your legs apart as far as he could without causing them to hurt you.

“God you look so perfect like this,” he groaned. “Not being able to do anything but cling to me.” He buried his head and your neck and kissed your neck softly- a contrast to the way his hips pushed into your with such power.

You threw your head back against the tile. And one of your hands left his shoulder or find something to hold onto. But when your fingers found nothing but wet tile, they fled to his hair. “So good!” You moaned loudly. You felt him smile against your shoulder and kiss the side of your head. His breath came out in pants that fanned the left side of your face. A few cuss words left his mouth and his muscles bulged and his whole body shook. You suddenly felt even more full than you had been and you clenched around him trying to make his orgasm as pleasurable as possible.

His hips never once stopped moving though. Neither did he soften. He continued to pound right into you. The extra added wetness of his cum seemed to add to the pleasure and tears welled up in your eyes. “Please don’t stop.” You begged. Your head rested against his shoulder. You couldn’t tell if it was wet because of sweat or the shower that was running. It didn’t matter to you. Kissing his strong shoulder, you clung onto him for dear life as the bubble in your stomach finally bursted. Your whole body convulsed and your mouth open to let out a moan but nothing came out. It was just pure, blinding, satisfying pleasure.

#aph hetalia #AllThingsHetalia #allthingshetalia #hetalia #hetalia blog #hetalia imagine blog #america hetalia #hetalia england #hetalia france #hetalia russia #china hetalia #canada hetalia #requests are open #hetalia headcons #hetalia headcanons #hetalia scenarios

312 notes · View notes

occult-castiel · 4 years ago

Text

A thread with no end

Cool metal lighter in hand, he finally takes a glance at the reason for all of this.

It's small, swallowed whole by the thick yellow clothes Sam has it in. It yawns, puppy-like, and fixes his wide eyes on Dean.

Blue. Big and impossibly blue. Its shades too light, closer to ice than ocean, but it pulls something loose in him. It's — it's almost like —

When Jack is born, he doesn't come out fully grown.

[Part One]

[Ao3]

Chapter 2

When the sharp edges of adrenaline settle, the last couple of days are a blur to think about. The absence of it is always its own kind of tired — aches become apparent again. His temples sting. All thoughts are filtered through sludge. His stomach gurgles out loud groans. The reminder is a desperate attempt to make bodily functions matter again, but the desire for food is numb. If anything it makes him sick.

He shakes his head, uses his free hand to blanket his face, pinch the bridge. Trapped under the rough pressure, his tear ducts throb. But it’s all right. It’s fine.

Fucking peachy.

Sloppy and mechanical, as Dean pulls the two of them off the ground. He doesn't look at the embers. The ash. His joins cry against all movement, each jagged step a chore. What should be solid ground slips loose under his boots. He has to catch himself with each half-stumble towards the house. Little snivels turn to full body whines, and Dean doesn't blame the kid. It can't be fun to get jerked around by some idiot that forgot how to walk right.

The door juts open with a creak, and whatever course of action he might've tried to take vanishes.

Unfiltered sunlight glimmers in through the curtainless window. Dust particles dance in yellow above the table where it's — it’s just empty now. His last pitstop. The last place Dean would ever get to look. To touch. Legs on autopilot, he trudges over.

Light glistens off the table's glossy finish. Glints against the discarded keyring Sam somehow remembered to salvage. Carefully, he skims the tips of his fingers over the cool surface, and dread sits like a rock in his stomach. It was warm, right after. But the air has long since leeched any heat Cas left behind.

Throat tense, he cups the keyring under his palm. Tightens his fist around it until the metal digs in and his arm trembles.

It's not fair. None of this is fair. They used to have more allies. Friends. Something they could fall back on after so long of having nothing, but none of it even lasts. Like the universe has decided The Sam and Dean Adventure just ain't multiplayer.

"Dean?"

He shoves the keys in his pocket. "Yeah. Down here."

Sam clunks down the steps and gives Dean a tight smile. Grey bags under his eyes highlight the bloodshot tendrils. His whole body slumped in on itself, the exhaustion of the last however-the-fuck long hitting him like a brick. Maybe he looks that bad too.

Over one shoulder Sam has the world's largest baby bag — lime green and burgeoning with diapers. The zippers stuck halfway around. It thunks when it hits the floor, and Sam shakes a bottle. "Made some formula. There's an extra in the side pocket."

"Thanks." Dean takes it. "Gonna have to toss the other one. Stuff can only sit out an hour."

Sam doesn't say anything to that, just scrapes a chair to the table, plops down, and buries his face in his hands. That's okay. Silence suits Dean just fine.

He repositions the baby in his arms, cradles the head against his shoulder so he's more upright. The kid latches on to the plastic nipple with ease.

The last time he fee a baby was a lifetime ago in some stranger’s home, babysitting with an ex-angel post attempted-murder. He and Cas had straightened out his not-dates house, and the baby started fussing. The bottle was already made. He didn’t think about it when he started feeding the kid. When Cas saw him, he gave Dean a pleased smile and said you're good at this.

It jolted his pulse. Compliments had a way of hitting him funny, but right then? In the low light of a picture-perfect suburban home? Right from the very human Cas who has sex and goes on dates and looks at Dean like he’s worth something?

Neck warm and mind blank, he offered to help Cas do it right without thinking.

And it was good, the light touches, soft adjustments that weren't necessary. But Cas never dressed down that much, so it was better than good. Dean spent the whole time thinking about how thin his cotton shirt was. Cas was smaller without the layers, and the warmth of him unfiltered. He tried to peel his hands away, but it was like he couldn't stop. Angel or mud-monkey, Cas felt strong and whole.

The comfort of the words stuck with him for days. The feel of Cas underneath him never left.

God, he should be here now.

The baby’s pudgy face grimaces, and Dean moves the bottle back until it evens out again.

"We need to figure out what we're doing." Sam's palms muffle his voice.

"We're going home. Welcome to the joys of parenthood. Here’s to hoping it doesn't kill us during puberty."

"It has a name." Sam drops his arms to his sides. "Jack. Kelly made videos on her laptop for him."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Well ain't that just lovely?"

Sam's jaw drops. "Dean."

He's two steps away from being the spitting image of some scandalized Victorian chick, and it crawls under Dean's skin.

"What? Jack here is the son of Satan, Sam. Fucking pardon me for not caring about mommy’s little home videos," Dean says. The baby — Jack, whatever — whimpers. Body tense, Dean slowly slides the bottle from his mouth.

"He's a baby, not a monster. And I'm just saying we don't have to — to tuck our tails and go home."

White spit-like liquid dribbles from Jack's mouth. Dean sighs.

"Fan-freakin'-tastic. I forgot babies did this crap." Dean sighs, storms over to the table, and places the bottle down with a hard clank. "I'm not seeing an array of options here. We can't exactly put a Nephilim up for adoption. Or hire a babysitter." Carefully, he brushes off Jack's mouth with the color of his onesie. It’s probably the cleanest thing they have to do it with.

"There's Mom. If the portal was opened once, there's gotta be a way to do it again. Maybe the Book of the Damned, or the Demon Tablet..." Sam perks up. "We could try and get Donatello to help —”

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you there." Dean lays Jack flat against his shoulder and pats his back. "First of all, you really want a soulless dude and Lucifer's kid bumping shoulders? Don't think they could be, I dunno, a bad influence on each other?" Jack releases a puff of air and Dean adjusts him back down. He levels a hard stare at Sam. "Second of all: Moms dead. Nothings gonna help that."

Sam doesn't miss a beat. "You don't know that."

Buzzing vibrates from Dean's pocket. He yanks it from his pocket for it. "Pretty sure I do. Lucifer ganked her the minute the portal closed."

"You can't —"

Unknown. He sends the asshole to voicemail.

Sam shakes his head. Sighs. "Whatever. Who was that?"

"Not Donatello." Well, it could've been. But whatever. He grabs the baby bag, then slings the lime green wrecking ball of a bag over his shoulder. "You've got Baby's keys. I'm taking the truck."

The coach squeaks. Before Dean can make it out the door, Sam grabs the strap. The force yanks him in place. Dean swivels around and glares. Sam drops his hand and gives Dean a weary look.

"Can we just talk about this?"

Dean swivels around. "I don't know what you want from me. Crowley's dead. Kelly's dead. Cas is —" Pain pangs his chest, a little twinge that sends pin-pricks through his torso, down his arms. His eyes dart away and land on the table. The discarded, half-finished bottle sits just outside of the sunlight’s path. "Mom’s gone. We even lost Rowena. So I'm gonna take the kid, find a motel the next state over, and put up whatever sigils I can to let the dick brigade know they aren't welcome. Rinse and repeat until we’re back home."

Sam scoffs, but whatever energy he had left is burned out. "Whatever. We'll talk later."

"Unlikely."

By the time Dean walks over to the table and grabs the bottle, Sam's halfway up the stairs.

Dean pushes past Sam and grabs the bottle. By the time he walks through the door, Sam's halfway up the stairs.

Ash has blown around the yard, smeared it in grey. Eyes downcast, pointedly away from the remnants, he beeline for the truck. Wind whistles by and smears ash across the lawn. Dean stares at the mustard-colored wet spots on Jack's clothes instead.

Cars are like a testament to the owner. The truck is immaculate. The burgundy shines — there’s not a spec of dirt marring the strips of pearl-white.

Dean doesn't bat an eye at the car seat. It’s green. Of course it’s green. His breath doesn't catch at the stupid cartoon bee sticker smiling at him on the car seat’s side. And he doesn't think about Cas.

Not him stumbling through a Walmart visit to buy the thing. God, he bets the nerdy little guy compared brands, sifted through online reviews in the middle of the aisle. He doesn’t picture how pleased Cas must've been at finding a pack of sticks, of all things. How the rest of them are most likely sitting in the glovebox. How it was probably the last enjoyable moment he had. Dean doesn't think — he doesn't. Merely shrugs the baby bag off onto the floorboard, buckles Jack in, and clicks the door closed.

Sweat slick forehead pressed against the doorframe, Dean squeezes his eyes shut.

The last conversation he had with Cas is a blur. An actual conversation, not stress-filled bickering over the newest pile of shit dumped on their doorstep.

Dean tries to swallow, but the motion stops halfway through, and there’s nothing there to force down.

The last movie night he'd managed to drag Cas into was over a month ago. It might’ve been the last time where either of them were reasonably happy. The last time his lips would tilt up in that small way that knots Dean's stomach. It isn’t fair. It's all wrong, and there’s no way to fix it. No magic is strong enough to bring an angel back, The only witch that could’ve tried is dead too. And any power Heaven could spare wouldn’t be used to help him. There’s only one shot to take, and it's the same useless one everyone’s thought of trying at some point.

Dean grabs the side of the truck bed and turns his head towards the sky. He sighs. Here goes nothing. "Okay, Chuck. Or God, whatever. We need your help. You said — you said the world would be fine with us. It isn't. We've lost everything."

He takes a deep breath, rocks his head to the ground. "You left. And I've never asked you for anything. Never begged. But now you're gonna bring him back. Cas. Mom. Hell, even Crowley." His hand tightens. "You owe us, you son of a bitch."

"Please." It's begging. He knows it is and doesn't care. He’d beg for weeks straight if it wasn’t useless. "Please help us."

A beat passes. Nothing happens. He didn’t expect it to work. God's never really gave a shit before, has he?

It's fine. All fine.

Jack cries when Dean slams the door. He strangles the steering wheel between his hands, hands that itch to inflict. Hit. Destroy. Sure as fuck not to nurture, not to quell the newborn screams, because Cas was wrong. Dean isn’t good at this.

A handful of deep breaths later, he leans down and fishes out a pink pacifier from the bag. Jack latches onto it, his pudgy face relaxed. Blue eyes float up to Dean. Innocent, full. It stings, and Dean turns away before his body uses whatever scraps of water it has left to make him cry again.

When he brings the engine to life, Zeppelin creeps through the speakers, one track after the next in an order he memorized long before Cas got the chance.

He plays it front to back on repeat until hunger and exhaustion win out, and he finds a motel.

#destiel #deancas #not sure if ill post eevery chapter on here #cause i have the feeling this us gunna be longer than i originally anticipated #and having a 30+ series on tumbkr seems messy #but ill at least out this one up here too #destiel fanfic #a thread with no end

18 notes · View notes

iatheia · 4 years ago

Text

EDA reviews part 2 - books 10-18

Previous part here

10) Legacy of the Daleks - A very enjoyable read, even though it doesn’t mesh well with Big Finish continuity. I have a few headcanons on how to rectify that, though... The meeting between the Eight and Delgado’s Master left me grinning ear to ear, the way Eight was posturing, wholly aware of the way the Master ticks. I’m not sure I liked Susan quite as much, though - nor was she that fundamental to the story, spending most of the time off screen, but being somewhat unlikeable when she was there. Her final confrontation with the Master was a bit much... Similarly, it was hard to accept Master not recognizing her. That said, the rest of it was a fun romp, and Eight’s thoughts towards the end were particularly poignant, 9/10

11) Dreamstone Moon - Starting right off the bat with an author self insert, and have him being both the source of the conflict and the one to ultimately save the day, kind of - it’s a bold choice.... It’s been said before, but Doctor’s companions really should unionize huh? Eight’s in particular. It really is quite striking that the situation with Sam is pretty much the exact same one as it will be with Charlie - thinking that the Doctor is dead, abandoned, alone, without any network of support. And I’m finally about to have context for that post, so, cheers, I guess. That said, Sam and the Doctor are very much representative of the “quit telling everyone I’m dead - sometimes I can still hear his voice” meme. I’ve lost count how many times Sam decided that the Doctor’s dead within five minutes of seeing him very much alive. (Ok, no, I jest, but it’s a good book, throughly enjoyable from the beginning to end, 10/10)

12) Seeing I - I, uh, really struggle to follow Sam’s logic in the beginning here. I don’t really understand how she ended up in the place she did, after the last novel. Because, she wasn’t alone, she wasn’t abandoned, she was in a company of people, who, uh, cared about her might be putting it a bit too strongly, but who at least could vouch for her. So this disconnect is a bit odd. And, as good as this novel is, as good as the character work in here is, I have a slight disconnect with the rest of it, too. There is too big of a gulf with where the story begun and where it ended - there are too many things going on, too many plots introduced and then unceremoniously dropped. It’s like... Revolution of the Daleks inside of Kerblam, with Nightmare in Silver thrown in with half a dozen other themes from other episodes. When you have the doctor in the machine and the psychologist guy go from primary antagonists to the supporting cast we’re supposed to root for, there is something mildly dissatisfying about it, thematically speaking. Overall, the story in its entirety is less than a sum of its parts. Breaking it into pieces, though, there is a lot of exciting stuff there. 9/10

13) Placebo Effect - Controversial opinion time - I don’t care for Ark in Space. I think it’s a pretty forgettable episode. So any time I encounter any reference to the wirrrn, my reaction is “wait, who?”. And even though I like Leisure Hive well enough, I dare you to find anyone who has been clamoring for the return of Foamasi. This rather made me immediately apprehensive, straight from the preface. In general, there was too much continuity. Stacy & Ssard, really? How deep do you need to be to appreciate their appearance? They are so utterly unnecessary, too, they disappear less than a quarter of the way into the novel, they aren’t even there for set up, they are there for a set up of a set up. If you are actually a person who knew who they were, and wanted to see more of them, I can’t imagine this being all that satisfying. It’s a rather abrupt transition from the previous ark. I dare even say, aggressive, to the degree you have Sam going from “she is afraid to be even in the same room with him, lest she kills him with her soaked through panties” to “she is absolutely delighted when he imparts onto her his grandfatherly wisdom”. Then again, any time either Eight or Sam opened their mouth, I didn’t see Eight or Sam. I saw Four and Sarah Jane. It’s not well written, either. It’s very clunky. The dialogues in particular are obnoxious. Stacy’s and Sam’s conversation, and later on dogmatic discussion between Sam and the priests gave me full on psychic damage. I mostly skimmed beyond that, can’t say there was much to catch the eye. 2/10

14) Vanderdeken's Children - This book is aiming to be a masterpiece, but it’ll just have to settle for being good enough. It does have some interesting twists and turns in here, even though most of them are pretty predictable and expected from the set up. The last couple of chapters, the ending overall, are quite decent (even though all the ebook versions I was able to find cut off the last couple of pages, argh!), but the middle is very middling, with mostly uninspiring secondary characters that are ever so slowly being positioned on the chess board. 7/10

15) The Scarlet Empress - Where to begin... It’s a series of mostly unrelated short stories in a trench coat pretending to be a novel. It’s set up in a middle of a road trip, unrelated not just to each other, but also the measly bit of plot that was given to us? I found it’s quite difficult to engage with the story overall, or follow it, really. It tries to be more character driven than plot driven, which is an admirable aim, and some of the character stuff they have in here is nice, except... Outside of may be bits of chapter 1, I couldn’t really hear Doctor’s voice - any version of him, let alone Eight. Sam fares a bit better, but, at the end of the day... It doesn’t really feel like Doctor Who story. The pacing is completely off, as is the structure, and it was quite nonsensical and whimsical, more akin to Alice in Wonderland than Doctor Who. Not bad in and of itself, just, hard for me to appreciate as a part of this marathon. A note on Iris. I haven’t yet listened to her stand-alone adventures, but I generally enjoy whenever she shows up in Big Finish. Here, though, she was rather lacking Katy Manning’s charm and personality. And, I feel, if you didn’t have any existing fondness for the character before, this novel isn’t going to give you much to care about her. Except, *checks notes*, this was one of her first major outings? Not really a good start. Oh, and prior to this she was in a few short stories, by the same writer. Well, that checks out. 6/10

16) The Janus Conjunction - I really liked this one. Not much to say beyond it, but, very well written, very easy read, practically in a single breath. Excellent characterization for both Doctor and Sam, just a right degree of joyful, determined, adventurous, death defying, mad, delirious, and codependent, almost moreso than any other I’ve read so far. Rather dark, though, I can feel it resonating in the pit of my stomach, and it gets inside your head. 10/10

17) Beltempest - What did the Doctor do to deserve this character assassination??? It’s not without redeeming bits (looks like “I’m not a man” quote comes from here, big yay), but, in large part, is barely a pale shadow of a character I like. Especially in the beginning - he think that Sam might have died and he is ok with this??? After the Dreamstone Moon??? And he is incredibly obnoxious? And Sam was barely herself, even before being... uh, possessed? for plot related reasons. I can’t describe how much disconnect I have with the protagonists here, or with any characters in the rest of the book, for that matter, and how much the dialogue made me roll my eyes. And, ah, the technobabble. I generally try not to overthink the physics of most things in fiction, because, as a certified space scientist, otherwise I’d be here all day, but there comes a point where it crosses the line. After everything else, to read the words “newly born main sequence star” with my own two eyes is just too much. I’m a good person, I do not deserve this nonsense... The first half of the book left me rather put off. The second part left me feeling absolutely flat. No emotions, either positive or negative. And, uh, there was a post going around on tumblr along the lines of “the worst you can do to the character is having them mention a certain food, because the fandom will turn it into an obsession” - it’s rather the same here with Eight and books & classical music. I am rather starting to loose count of the number of times they are trying to emulate the scene with the ending of the movie, where he is lounging about and reading, or specifically mentioning Pucchini. To be fair, it’s not just this novel, but it definitely starting to take me out of it. 5/10

18) The Face-Eater - I’m generally a bit wary of cold opens in the books, because some tend to ramble a bit, with the characters I don’t already know and love, so it’s often is a chore to muster enthusiasm to care about them. This one, though, despite all that, starts very effectively, in a way that made me immediately sit up straight. Very snappish, in a style of noir novels. Too bad it doesn’t quite sustain that energy throughout it. The plot is... interesting, I guess. Characterization is decent, for the most part - although some moments, especially early on gave me a pause, it more than makes up for it in other places. 7/10

Overall impressions so far: Much better than the first set of 9, which often were too deeply rooted in nostalgia to try to offer anything unique. And, I guess, with more writers having a chance to read each others works, the characterization is a bit more consistent (not for every writer, mind, but, in general). How long does it take for them to write a novel of this length, I wonder? A book a month is a rather grueling pace for the series - how far in advance do they start? How many other books come out during that time?

Sam in particular incrementally found her footing (though, there is a bit of a lag from novel to novel). Instead of imagining literally any other companion, there were certain novels that really helped me to grasp her character. Though, hmm... being Doctor’s companion is not a safe job by any stretch of imagination, but this girl has really been through a wringer. I’m rather struggling to think of any other companion that has been put through so much (non-lethal) battering. There comes a point when one just wants to just to let her have some good time. And, uh, there was a horrible thought that occurred to me, and went to look up how she will depart the TARDIS in the end, and... well, I have a feeling that sometime afterwards I will not like what will happen.

Also, there is this trend of separating her and the Doctor, for a prolonged period of time, them having no idea where to find each other, without any contact, just, stumbling onto one another eventually. It’s a way for writers to have them cover more narrative ground, and you certainly don’t want them attached by the hip, but when they spend less than 20 pages a book in each other’s company, that’s, uh... not a trend I particularly care for.

Well, onto the next batch where we meet Fitz, and say good bye to Sam.

Next part here

#doctor who #eighth doctor #eighth doctor adventures #eda

5 notes · View notes

wantstoflyafraidtofall · 4 years ago

Link

Summary: The Christmas season was always hard for the Novak family but this year Castiel has someone to help him through it. Dean is determined to help his boyfriend, Cas, get through a holiday gathering with his family.

Read on Ao3

(Fic bellow the cut)

Families can be hard. And if Dean ‘my dad’s homophobia made me too afraid to come out of the closet even after he passed’ Winchester had one goal tonight, it is to make this as easy as the universe would allow him. Having your parents know that your a biromantic asexual and actually coming home with a boyfriend are two entirely different ballparks.

Cas had insisted that Dean should come to meet his family this Christmas. The previous years they had always gone down to Dean’s basically surrogate father’s place. Bobby was a bit rough around the edges but was all gushy at the core and welcomed Cas to the family with a smile and slap on the back(He could have sworn he heard a ‘finally!’ as well).

Ellen and Jo both gave Cas some… stern talking-to’s about what getting with Dean entails that left him a little shaken, but over the past four years of being Dean’s ‘boyfriend’ instead of ‘best friend’ has shown him worthy of Dean’s heart. Jody and Donna had been more than welcoming as well, even inviting him and Dean over for a nice dinner one night.

Sam was probably the most excited. He flew all the way from California to congratulate them in person and even got a little teared up by Dean accepting himself for who he was. He had stayed the remainder of the week and spent the whole time smiling at them and helicoptering around them to make sure it was real.

Dean has to admit, he is kinda glad they aren't spending the entire Christmas weekend at the Novak’s. He loves Cas and would do anything for him but his family gives him the creeps. It’s a good thing Cas doesn’t want to stay either. He found that the Winchester Christmases with movie nights, warm fires, and eggnog, much more enjoyable than “an uncomfortable, over formal Christmas dinner where the chairs are replaced with the sticks up their asses”, as Cas once put it.

He didn’t begin to feel the pinpricks of nervousness until they steered the impala into the gated neighborhood where Cas’s family lived. The tall borderline-mansion houses could be seen across the large well-trimmed yards, illuminated by professionally hung Christmas décor and outdoor spotlights.

“What did you say the address was again?” Dean asked, leaning toward where Cas sat next to him, fidgeting nervously.

“1574 Rosealee Court-” Cas sat forward pointing out the window at the house, “-That’s it, right there.”

Dean turned into the driveway, internally judging how they had lined the entire perimeter of the pavement with tiny white lights. He slowly rolled to a stop a little past halfway around the U of the driveway, pulling the keys out of the ignition. The silence replaced the loud rumble of the engine and quietly playing songs from the Christmas cassette Dean had gotten for Cas a few years back after discovering his love for the seasons music.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Dean spoke softly and slid across the bench seat to wrap an arm around Cas’s shoulder, his other hand finding Cas’s and gentle squeezing it.

“Yeah, just a little nervous.” Cas was squinting up at the house and it’s artificial Christmas feel.

“Hey, look at me,” Dean waited for Cas to turn to him, his too-blue eyes shining in the bright lights, and pressed a gentle kiss on his warm lips. “It’s going to be all right. I’m going to be here the whole time. Won’t even go for bathroom breaks.”

Cas smiled and Dean didn’t fight the grin that bubbled out of the warm feeling in his gut. He leaned forward and placed one more chaste peck on Cas’s lips before ushering him out of the car. Taking Cas’s hand in his, they made their way up to the door, ringing the doorbell and waiting for the blurry figure to appear in the beveled glass To let them in.

“CASSIE!” Gabriel shrilled as he opened the door, pulling his younger brother into a tight hug. Dean must have been staring because next Gabriel turns to him with a wide smirk. “Aww, Dean-o, is my baby brothers boy-toy feeling left out? Come’ere-” He pulled Dean into a bone-crushing embrace that left him a little light headed when the shorter man set him down back onto his feet.

“Gabriel, I didn’t expect you to be here.” Cas said, surprised.

“Well, I wasn’t going to come but when I heard Cassie was coming and bringing ‘his significant other’ I just had to make sure it was Dean here they were talking about. I am hurt that not once you mentioned to me that you two finally pulled your heads out of your asses and got together. I mean, I am your brother and-”

“Is that Castiel?” A voice said from behind.

Gabriel stepped back to reveal its owner, and it was no one other than Naomi Novak, Cas’s mother. She walked up to the door, shooing Gabriel to the side and gesturing for them both to come inside. She smiled when Dean looked at her but it didn’t reach her eyes and looked unnatural on her tight face.

She closed the door behind them and waited for them to strip off their coats, scanning their jeans and Henleys with an air of distaste. Naomi kept that smile plastered on her face, however, as she led them deeper into the house to what must be the family room.

There was a gas-lit fire burning in the large fireplace under the mantle where the TV hung, traditional Christmas music playing off one of those music channels. Cas led him over to the couch, adjusting the throw pillows to make the stiff furniture a little more comfortable. Gabriel strode in just as they got settled and splayed himself out on a white leather chair across from them.

“I’ll just be a moment. Your brothers are in the kitchen, I’ll go bring them out to say hello to you and…” Naomi looked over at Dean questioningly.

“Dean. Dean Winchester.” Dean said, finding it a little odd that Naomi couldn’t remember his name. He’s come over for barbeques and such as a friend before, perhaps she was doing it to piss off Cas.

“Yes, Dean.” She finished, the ugly smile twisting her lips again. “Oh! And I almost forgot to mention, your father decided to join us tonight as well, he is upstairs and will be down soon.”

He felt Cas squeeze his hand tighter and his face paled slightly at the mention of Chuck. Gabriel sent a worried glance their way as Naomi strutted off to the kitchen, satisfied with her work.

“It’s going to be ok, I’ll be right here.” Dean whispered and Cas nodded in reply.

Cas hated his father. Chuck left when he was 5, disappearing until he was almost 15. Naomi welcomed him back as if he was never gone, ignoring the fact that he was a broke alcoholic. Cas had a horrid few years till he got out of the house and to college where he met Dean.

Dean was studying to be an English teacher, Cas a writer. They had met one eventful evening when Dean rounded a corner too fast, running straight(haha yeah right) into Castiel in a fatal collision that ruined 2 cups of coffee and a shit ton of papers.

“So,” Gabriel said, attempting to clear the tension, “how long?”

“What?” Dean said, looking over to where the man was sprawled out in the chair.

“How long have you two been a pair?”

“Uhh,” Dean glanced over at Cas who shrugged. “You sure you wanna know?”

“It’s not like it's been going on for that long. Spill!”

Dean cleared his throat, “about four years now.”

“Ha nice try. For real now, how long?”

“He’s right, it’ll be five years next fall.” Cas stated.

Gabe’s jaw dropped as he looked between the two of them. He seemed to catch up because the next moment he was standing up and shrieking, “ WHAT! Four years! Cassie why didn’t you tell me!”

Cas cowered back into the still cushions, but thankfully, whatever was about to happen was interrupted by someone clearing their throat from the doorway. Michael stepped into the room, tailed by Lucifer and Naomi. They all walked over and settled down one the couch and the remaining chair, leaving a space for Chuck.

They ease into a shallow conversation about the rise in profits at Michael’s company. Dean tunes out, letting the sound of Michael’s money talk become background noise to his thoughts. Cas was still gripping his hand tightly, his posture ridgid as if waiting for something to pounce.

Dean rubbed his thumb gently over Cas’s knuckles in a soothing gesture, hoping to silently comfort and remind him of his support and presence. After a while, Cas did seem to relax a bit. His grip was a bit looser and he was leaning back against the couch now. Everything seemed to be going great until Chuck Novak made his way into the room and sat down on the couch where he could look directly at Cas and Dean.

Cas immediately was on alert once more and even Dean felt the hairs on his neck rise. Chuck skimmed over them with a blank expression, pausing briefly at their conjoined hands.

The thing is, Chuck 'doesn't mind the LGBTs’ as long as it’s not his son. When it comes to this, the cowardish, skittish little man Chuck appears to be takes the back seat while a stone cold, angry version takes up front. Dean has only seen that happen once before when Gabe had mentioned relationships he has had with members of the same sex before he had met Kahli, and he is not happy to be seeing it again.

Dean tries to turn his attention to the conversation. Lucifer and Michael are explaining in extraneous detail what the company's main goal is to Naomi who seems to be understanding most of it. He thinks for a second that tonight may just go ok when the conversation ends, allowing the main focus to switch to the couple.

“So,” Naomi asks, “how long have you been together.”

“Four years.” Castiel states, looking his father in the eyes as he does so.

They all look a little taken aback that the two had been together for that long without anyone knowing about it in the slightest.

“And how’s that going for you?” She says through her fake smile.

“Quite well, actually,” Dean says, “We have an apartment together in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Im a High School English teacher there. We are really happy there.”

“Are you sure?” Chuck cut in.

“What?”

“Are you ok with… you know?” Chuck said, waving his hands around like Dean was supposed to know what he was talking about.

“If he ok with what, Chuck?” Cas said, a hint of anger in his voice. “Me being asexual?”

“Honey, there is no need to get angry, we are just making sure Dean thinks it’s a fair relationship for him.” Naomi chides.

A burst of rage sparks in Dean’s chest and he can see the turmoil in Cas’s eyes as he glares at his father. How can someone speak like that about their child? About someone as amazing as Cas?

“Dean, you can’t possibly be happy in a relationship like that! People like you love sex, right?”

This isn’t the first time the comment has been thrown his way but after what they had just said to Cas, it snaps something in Dean. A tight ball of anger bubbles in his chest as he fights to keep from blowing up. He takes a deep breath and meets Chuck’s eyes.

“People like me, meaning Bisexuals?” Dean says, keeping his voice as cool as possible.

Naomi flinches at the word a bit but agrees.

“I am perfectly happy in my relationship with Cas. Contrary to your belief, bisexuals are not sex driven animals and asexuals aren't broken people who will never find love and you have to be seriously messed up to think that sex is necessary for a relationship.” Dean snaps before standing up from the couch, pulling Cas up with him. “Thanks for having us, we’ll be leaving now.”

He borderline stomps to the front door and helps Cas with his coat before donning his own and they head out to the impala. He starts the car, blasting the heat and driving off in silence. They are just pulling out of the suburb area when he hears a sniffle from Cas. Dean instantly pulls the car over and flicks on his hazards before slinging across the bench seat.

Dean opens his arms and Cas slides over and buries his face in Dean’s chest, his fingers twisting up in the back of Dean’s coat as a sob slips out. Followed by another, and another until Cas is clinging to Dean, crying into his coat as Dean gently runs his hands up and down Cas’s back, whispering soft affirmations between kisses into Cas’s hair.

When Cas’s breathing evens out, he leans back from Dean, wiping at his red eyes and nose with his sleeve.

“M’sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, sunshine. Hey, how about we go to that festival we saw driving in, hmm?”

Cas nodded and buckled back into his seat while Dean buckled his own and pulled back on the road. He turned up the volume as I’m Dreaming Of A White Christmas began to play. Dean smiled as he thought back to the first snow of the season. It was early November when the weather took a dip.

Cas’s cheeks were rosy and he kept wiping his nose, the cold air making their breath come out in small puffs while they trudged their way up the hill, dragging the plastic sled behind them.

When they reached the top, Dean pushed the sled down into the snow and plopped into the back of the bright orange contraption, planting his feet to make sure it wouldn't slide before they were ready. Cas straddled in front of Dean before sitting down and falling back against Dean’s chest, putting his feet in the front of the sled and trying to make enough room for Dean’s with the thick snow pants on.

Dean wrapped his arms around the front of Cas to grab the thin rope used to steer the thing, Cas grabbed a hold too, smiling in anticipation. Dean scootched forward and the sled barely moved an inch. Cas laughed and began scooching in sync with Dean and before they knew it, Dean had his feet up in the front of the sled with Cas and they rocketed down the hill, whooping and laughing all the way down.

The thought helped ease some of the emotions swirling in his stomach as they drove into town. Knowing how much Cas loves it, despite his insistence on the opposite, Dean begins singing along to the song.

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.

Just like the ones I used to know.”

Dean looked over at Cas and gave him a smile before continuing.

“ Where the tree-tops glisten,

And children listen,

To hear, sleigh bells in the snow.”

He hears Cas clear his throat and join in on the next line.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

“With every Christmas card I write

“May your days be merry and bright

“And may all your Christmases be white”

Cas laid his hand palm up in the middle of the seat and Dean took it, lifting it up to his face and dropping a kiss to his knuckles before singing the next lines.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

“With every Christmas card I write

“May your days be merry and bright

“And may all your Christmases be white

“May your days be merry and bright

“And may all your Christmases be white”

The song ended just as they pulled into the lot. There weren't many people here, but that’s perfect for them tonight. The soft colored lights and sweet smells of the carnival made the night seem warmer than the frigid temperature it actually was.

Dean reached over the seat and came back with some hats and gloves for him, mittens for Cas. He put his on, waiting for Cas to do the same before they got out of the car and held hands as they made their way to the small ticket booth by the entrance. Dean handed over some cash and took his tickets with a ‘thanks’ before making his way towards the rides.

“Ooo let’s go get some hot chocolate.” Dean said, pulling Cas over to the warm, coca scented tent and ordering two cups.

The heat from the paper cup could be felt through Dean’s glove as he walked, taking careful sips to not burn his tongue on the too-hot chocolate.

“Dean, can we go on the ferris wheel?” Cas asked, gesturing towards the white metal ride with red and orange lights making spirals along the beams.

“Sure, why not.”

They went up to the lady sitting by the control panel and handed her the required amount of tickets for the ride and stepped into the carriage. Dean watched Cas from his side of the car, watching how Cas looked out the window, wiping the glass when his breath fogs it up too much to see out of. He feels a small smile tug at the corner of his lips when Cas turns and meets his eyes.

“Dean,” Cas starts.

“Yeah?”

“Does it bother you? My asexuality?” Cas said, looking down at the floor.

“Of course not Cas! I love you. I don’t need sex to love you. And it’s not like we’ve never had sex, just not frequently, and I am ok with that. I love you and love to spend time with you and that’s what matters to me.” Dean says softly, leaning forwards across the narrow aisle to take Cas’s hands in his.

What did Dean do to get someone like Cas? Someone so caring and compassionate, so smart and creative, so… Cas.

“Castiel James Novak, my sex indiferent asexual boyfriend and best friend, I love you so much. More than pie, more than Baby, hell, more than anything. Any day I spend with you is a good day. You are the kindest, smartest, most caring person I know and I’ll be damned to let some asshole make you think that you could ever not be loved.”

There were tears flowing down Cas’s cheeks and Dean wiped them away with his thumbs before pulling Cas in for a caste kiss, and another, and again. He peppered Cas’s forehead, cheeks, nose, and lips with soft kisses before pressing his lips firmly but softly to Cas’s warm, slightly chapped ones.

Cas let his tongue flick out on Dean’s bottom lip and taking full advantage of the opening Dean’s gasp gives to dive deeper into his mouth with his tongue. Dean gives as much as he gets, trying to push as much of his love into one single kiss as humanly possible.

When they break away, both panting slightly, their car is stopped at the top of the Ferris wheel. They look out the small windows at the town and its rows of light adorned houses.

“It’s beautiful.” Cas sighs.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Dean replies.

“Aww getting all sappy, Dean?” Cas chuckles.

“No- I- No-” Cas cuts Dean off by pressing another kiss to his lips.

They break apart in fits of laughter, their car shaking as they laugh and laugh and laugh. They only stop once the wheel begins moving again but when they get off, they both have bright smiles on their faces.

The smiles stay the rest of the night and all the way home as they sing Christmas songs on the ride home all the way to the moment they strip out of their winter clothes and get ready for bed, curling under the soft covers in each other's arms.

“I love you.” Dean whispers as he tetters on the verge of sleep and just as he tumbles over, he hears Cas say back, “I love you, too.”

~~~~~~(Feel free to ask to be added to the tag list)~~~~~~

@kinda-not-really-vibing

#my writing #Destiel #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural #fanfic #christmas #fluff

5 notes · View notes

lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

Text

“she acts like summer and walks like rain”

The power goes out. What are three things that you have taken for granted? I mean, it depends how long it goes out for. I’ve only experienced that for a couple hours at most from what I can recall, so. Although, the worst to me is when it happens for any length of time during the summer because it instantly feels like a sauna in my house and it’s absolutely miserable. D: It happened a few times this past summer during a heat wave with triple digit temps... not fun. But yeah, that’s the only thing that really bothers me from my experience. I just mess around on my phone, play Animal Crossing, read, or just chill with the fam. My dad acts like it’s the end of the world lol like a couple minutes in he’s like, “what are we going to do for food?? I think we might have to get a hotel or something, we can’t stay here with no power.” lol.

Have you ever done the Polar Bear plunge on New Years? I’ve never done it and never would. Nooo thanks. I don’t swim or get into the ocean, lake, or river for one, for two, diving into freezing cold temperatures sounds horrific. It’d probably shock my body and kill me.

Name lyrics that include the word "baby" in them. “Oh baby, you got what I need, but you say I’m just a friend.”

You get to choose your middle name! It must begin with the letter H. Nah.

Have you ever had a Halloween party? Yeah. I had one when I was in like 2nd grade and invited kids from my class over. I had a few smaller, more just like hangouts, with my cousins or friend as well. The most recent was like 4 years ago. I’ve been to more Halloween parties than I’ve thrown, though.

Would you rather have a plant cactus or venus flytrap? A cactus.

Are you better at crosswords or word searches? I love word searches.

Would you rather have a water balloon fight or a paint ball fight? I’ve only had water balloon fights, back when I was a kid. I wouldn’t want to have either one now. Running around and getting hit with stuff just doesn’t sound fun. I don’t have the energy for all that. Also paint ball fights sound especially painful.

Do you like being told what to do? In some cases I might need a little push or can’t decide on something so I’ll sometimes ask someone what I should do. Doesn’t mean I’ll listen, but it can be helpful. I don’t like when someone tells me what to do as a command. I’m super stubborn, so being told to do something just makes me not want to do said thing even more, even if I already planned on doing it.

What would you do if you were attacked by thugs? If I was attacked by anyone I wouldn’t be able to do a whole lot.

Do you have a favorite word? I can never think of one on the spot when asked.

On what circumstances would you break up with someone? If they cheated on me I might, but I can’t say for sure. It would depend on a few things. I’d also like to think I would if there was abuse. I feel like I would, but I’ve never been in that situation and I know it’s not always that simple.

Have you ever been kicked out of a store? No.

What's your worst subject? Math was always my worst subject.

What are 3 things that make you happy? God, my family (including my doggo), and vacations.

“baby, let me be your last first kiss”

Have you ever been pampered? I get my hair done fairly regularly (not so much now... I can blame covid this year, but let’s be real the past few years I started slacking).

Are you going to force your kids to be in activity or let them choose? I don’t want to have kids; however, IF I did, I wouldn’t force them to. I would certainly encourage and support, but it’d be their decision. If they didn’t enjoy it, I wouldn’t push it. It should be enjoyable for them, not torture.

Do you watch Toddler and Tiaras? Nah, I never got into that.

What was the last band t-shirt you bought? Nirvana.

If someone asked you to go to war today, what would you say? Uh, no???

Are you passionate? I feel like I haven’t been passionate in years. Like, even things I like I don’t get as excited about like I used to. I just feel unmotivated and deflated.

Do you usually get nervous before taking a test? Always. I had major test anxiety.

True or false : Your middle name begins with the letter J False.

Are you more comfortable in public or in your house? Most definitely in my house. This is my safe, comfortable place where I’m not judged. My self-esteem has always been crap, but these past few years it’s been even worse. I’m very self-conscious. I also just don’t like being around a lot of people.

Do you own an old vintage typewriter? No.

Do you hate how dogs bark every time someone comes to your house? No, I want my doggo to do that. She’s not excessive about it, though. And she’s not a little yappy dog that barks when an ant walks by lol. My neighbor’s dogs bark a lot, feels like it goes on forever and it’s annoying.

What's a commercial that you cannot stand? I don’t pay much attention to commercials.

Mountain Dew or Dr. Pepper? Dr. Pepper.

Do you say "mate?" like Hello, mate! No.

What makes you rate a survey? I don’t rate them. I decide if I’m going to take a survey by skimming over the first few questions and seeing if they’re of interest to me and if I’ve already done it before (well, at least to see if I’ve done it recently).

“I can’t explain loneliness”

Do you drink Mountain Dew? I haven’t had it in probably like 10 years. I used to love the red and blue one. Oh, and I liked the AMP energy drinks Mountain Dew used to(?) have.

How many weddings have you been to? Three.

When you smile, are you confident? No.

Have you ever not done something because you were afraid of getting in trouble? Yeah.

Was the weather beautiful today? It’s finally been feeling like fall, which I love.

Do you have to have a fan on when you sleep? Yes. During the hot months I have 3 going at all times in my room. I still have 2 of them going even though I’ve been needing a blanket now. I love it, though. If I turned them off I know I’d get warm again. I’d love to have it be cold and need a blanket year round. Would you rather have an orange, red or gray bedroom? Out of those, I guess gray.

Would you ever dye part of your hair blue? No. I dye my hair red and I just want to keep it that color.

Have you ever gone to a private school? My UC is.

Is Finding Nemo a favorite movie of yours? No, but it’s cute.

Does/Did your school have a uniform? My preschool did. Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? It is on, it’s on MTV.

Does your house have security cameras? Yes.

What's your favorite Another Cinderella Story? The one with Hilary Duff.

Does a popsicle sound good right now? No. I’m not a popsicle kind of gal.

“0 of your friends are online - yup, I feel like a loser.”

Do you drink more water or juice? Definitely water. I don’t like juice, so I never drink it.

Sweater weather or tank top weather? Which do you prefer. Tank top weather all the way, no competition. I hate summer. I also don’t wear tank tops.

Do you always carry a purse with you? Not lately. The other day was the first time I had one, well it was my Baby Yoda mini backpack, in several months.

Do you update your Facebook relationship status when it changes? It’s never changed since making my Facebook in 2008 :X Joseph and I had our thing, but it wasn’t an official relationship. If I were to get in a relationship I wouldn’t rush to make it Facebook official cause who cares, like that wouldn’t be my first thought, but I could decide to change it at some point. Ha, maybe I would do it right away cause it’d be so surprising and shocking that I’d have to share it with everyone lmao.

Have you ever kissed a Zachary? Nope.

Do you hate when people try to embarrass you? Uh, being embarrassed certainly isn’t fun... I wouldn’t want someone to purposely try and embarrass me. Do you like in October when a bunch of haunted places open up? I like October for many Halloween-related reasons, but not for ghost walks or haunted houses - those aren’t really my thing. <<< Same, I don’t do all that.

Did you tell someone you loved them today? No.

Do you watch the show Ghost Adventures? I’ve never heard of it before. I’ve heard of Ghost Hunters - my father enjoys that show. <<< Ha, my dad really likes one of those as well; I forget which one. I’ve never gotten into shows like, though.

When it's dark, do you always tell someone to drive safe? No.

Are you love sick? No.

Do you want your own house someday? My family and I do. We’ve only ever rented.

What color are your curtains in your bedroom? Dark blue.

Are you superstitious? I do the knock on wood thing, but I think it’s just habit now.

Is there a cat in the room you're in right now? No, I don’t have a cat.

“it only takes a second to fall in love”

Have you ever read the book The Guardian by Nicholas Sparks? Nope.

Have your parents ever said you're ruining your life by dating someone? No.

Are you excited for anything? I’m looking forward to starting my Christmas shopping.

True or false : It's past 9:22 PM True, it’s 2:43AM.

Do you hate when artist change their music? No, not necessarily. It can be cool to see them try different genres. Does your house have a doorbell? Yep.

Would you ever name your car? *shrug*

What's worse : Two-faced people or fake people? Isn’t that the same thing?

Are you wearing a necklace? No. I haven’t worn a necklace in years.

Have you ever saved someone's life? No. Do you hate when your makeup smears? I always hated how my eyeliner smudged in the corners. I say “hated”, past tense, because I haven’t worn any makeup at all in like 3 years.

Are you good at giving advice? I think I kinda used to be, but not now. I was the one friends always came to. I used to also participate on teen message boards when I was like 12-14 and tried to offer advice and resources to people when I could. Sometimes I IMed with people who needed advice, too. That’s when I knew I wanted to help people in some way and it was in high school when I discovered what psychology/ a psychologist was. I majored and got my BA in it, too... now it’s just collecting dust and I don’t want to purse it anymore....

Have you gotten into any fights within the past week? No.

How often do you go to the kitchen? I don’t know.... probably like a handful of times.

Are you strong? Nope. Not mentally or emotionally, and certainly not physically.

“bring her back to serendipity”

When you choose your golf ball for put-put, what color do you pick? I’ve never played.

Have you ever ate the tip of a pencil? The eraser. No...

When was the last time you wore earrings? I got cute rose gold Minnie Mouse ones for Christmas last year and wore those for a couple months until they started messing with my ears for some reason. It was weird because it was like they were getting sucked into the hole? I’ve never had that happen.

You can dye your hair red or neon green. You pick? I already dye it red.

How many Juliet's do you know? I don’t know any.

What's your current mood? I don’t feel well.

What time is it? 2:55AM. Do you own any colored pants? No.

What color of eye shadow do you wear? I haven’t worn eyeshadow in several years.

Hamburger or steak? Hamburger, definitely. I don’t like steak.

When was the last time you ran through a sprinkler? Not since I was a kid.

Can you do a cartwheel? No.

Do you believe you have the perfect parents? No one is perfect, but my parents are quite amazing.

Do you own any Converse? I still have one pair. I used to have a few.

How tall are you? 5′4.

“Right now, I just wish you were here.”

Would you ever try a workout video? Or have you? Maybe a fun dance one if it involved a lot of arm movements that I could do. Do you like your ice cream in a cup or cone? It’s gotta be a cup or waffle bowl for me cause I take too long to finish my ice cream and it gets super messy otherwise.

Are fireworks your favorite things ever? I like how pretty they are, but I definitely don’t enjoy the sound that they make. <<< Ugh, saaaame. I hate the sound.

Is your cat orange? As I’ve said, I don’t have a cat.

Is anything in the room your in striped? My Adidas have 3 stripes on both sides.

What song do you hear playing? I’m not listening to music.

Have you ever found a four leaf clover? Yeah. Back in elementary school we used to hunt for ‘em on St. Patrick’s Day.

Do you think you've been in love? I believe so. Twice.

Have you ever read Romeo and Juliet? In the 9th grade, we were required to in English class. <<< Yep.

Were you ever in the plays in school? No.

Whose eyes do you have? Pretty sure they’re my own. Haaaa. My eyes are the same color as my mom’s.

When was the last time you bought a pair of new shoes? I haven’t bought my own in a long time. I often get a new pair for my birthday and/or Christmas from my parents, usually my dad. He’s a total shoe guy, so he likes to buy shoes quite a bit for himself and as gifts for my family and I.

How many gray shirts do you have? I don’t know; a few.

Have you ever cried because you missed someone so much? Yes. Especially after the death of loved ones.

Do you hate waiting for things? I’m very impatient. Waiting makes me nervous and anxious.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

4 notes · View notes

chromsai · 5 years ago

Text

5Ds Review

Wooo... another Yugioh down, just 2 more to go on this challenge... (yeah, just a reminder that V//r//ains will not be included in this challenge).

This one I was very excited to get to rewatch... at first. I’d only seen this once before all the way through, and halfway through I remembered... that I only actually really enjoyed about half this show. My last attempt at rewatching this show failed completely (yes, I admit that I abandoned ship as soon as I hit about the halfway mark... or even a little less), but this time, by some fucking stubborn as hell and definitely worn out miracle, I succeeded. Barely. But I did it. I may have... lagged it a bit here or there (even worse than when I watched GX, surprisingly), but I finished right on schedule.

And right on schedule, here’s my honest review of what, for a short period of time back in like mid-2014, used to be my favorite Yugioh spin-off:

Yu-Gi-Oh! 5Ds.

(Note: Before you skip through all this and just scroll to the bottom to read my final rating of this show, just know my breakdown, because I tried to be the nicest reviewer I could when reviewing this, for the sake of... idk, my sanity, or whatever. The breakdown I chose is:

1. Season 1 2. Season 2:

a. filler episodes b. Crash Town i. Bonds Beyond Time (BBT) c. WRGP + Ark Cradle d. Finale

Why in the hell am I making this so complicated this time?! Reasons. Reasons to be discussed...

And don’t worry, as always, I’ll do my best to keep it short and just my overall thoughts.)

Season 1 - Fortune Cup + Dark Signers (Episodes 1 - 64):

We start off with something that’s very promising and fast. I don’t necessarily mean “fast-paced”, per say— the show, at least right here, doesn’t seem to struggle with pacing much at all— rather, 5Ds exudes the sort of energy that it’s set a course and it knows how to get there. Where is it going? It doesn’t know yet and it doesn’t care, and honestly in this first Season, that’s completely fine because it knows how to make each pit stop into a memorable detour worth paying attention to. It doesn’t waste your time, is what I want to say.

The first leg of the Season, the Fortune Cup arc, does a great job establishing its main cast and their reasons for being involved in this dystopian mess of plot. Regarding said dystopian mess, rest assured that the show’s world is pretty well established within the first few episodes, so world building is not an issue either. It’s already going pretty great, and then we’re gifted with the excellent Dark Signers second leg which builds on character’s backgrounds, establishes relationships even further, and raises the stakes just enough that things actually matter. That’s right. Consequence finds its way back to Yugioh... or is it introduced into it, actually? It’s been so long since we’ve had some consequence in Yugioh and yet its existence is so fleeting, as we soon realize, right at the end of this arc.

It’s something to get used to for the next... a while.

Regardless, Season 1 of 5Ds is without a doubt an enjoyable watch with some solid presentation (for the most part). It’s something that’s an incredible breath of fresh air for this anime franchise. Though perhaps a short one...

Overall rating for this arc: 4/5 - very good, but still lacking on that much sought after umph that we crave from a lot of shows, an element we’ll keep missing in this franchise for a good while...

Season 2 (Episodes 65 - 154):

Here comes... this. Mess. If you;re getting the impression by now that I’ve been procrastinating talking about this, you’re right. I’m going to go pretty fast on this... or ‘least I’ll try...

a. Filler Episodes (Episodes 65 - 85):

Although, yes, we are indeed introduced to a “new threat” this season, we spend the majority of the time these 20 episodes exploring the daily lives of the 5Ds cast and crew, introducing new (95% useless) side characters left and right. At first you might think, You know what this is kinda fun, but actually you are wrong. The only episode in here that anyone ever remembers is that one where Yusei and Aki go on a roller skating date. Because it’s cute. But superficial. None of these episodes carry much weight at all, perhaps baring, like, those two or three episodes that introduce Sherry and, later, Bruno. But otherwise? None of this matters. Harmless tho? Mostly.

Season 2a rating: 1.7/5

b. Crash Town (Episodes 86 - 92)

“Wait, I watched this show and these episodes were also filler, what gives?!” You’re absolutely right, my friend. But you’ve forgotten one thing:

That’s right. Yusei’s classy ass.

No, but in all seriousness though, Crash Town offers some weird, old-western-style fever dream. It’s ridiculous; It has nothing to do with 5Ds at all. It’s like the producers decided to just drop us in an AU without warning, and honestly? It’s not terrible.

Season 2b rating: 2.8/5

i. Bonds Beyond Time (BBT - movie)

So this movie was canon to 5Ds, but was it 5Ds? No. As such, I won’t rate or review it here, but I’ll admit it’s not not a fun time for a fanservice movie. Is it of good quality, though? Not really, aside from its presentation. Do I have to mention that it’s canonically a part of this show? Yes. Do you miss out on anything important later on if you skip it? Aside from a small mention of its antagonist’s existence in one line of 5Ds’ climax later on, nope.

c. WRGP + Ark Cradle (Episodes 93 - 153):

*Sighs groaningly infinitely*.

This leg of Season 2 is, easily, the worst part of this entire show.

Before I continue, I need to mention that, as you might have guessed by now, the show has resorted to talking endlessly and vaguely about “destiny” and “zetsubouuuu” in place of its original, wholesome themes relating to self-worth and the intricacies of the relationships between people called “bonds”. But I’m sure that was a given by now; hopefully I didn’t have to clarify that.

The WRGP and Ark Cradle comprise a total of sixty-one (61) episodes and a shit ton of duels, but only exactly one (1) of those duels is decent-good (and it’s still very skippable. I know. Because even though I remembered I liked it the first time I ever watched this show, I decided it wasn’t worth it and still just skimmed it, much like I did for most of this Season).

The WRGP itself is an incredible drag to watch through. The pre-duels are cluttered with unnecessary exposition, Yusei becomes the only useful character through the end of the show, we’re met with uncharismatic and unoriginal teams characters that make Doma’s goons from DM Season 4 seem interesting in comparison. Every duel goes pretty much the same: Team 5Ds is losing... until Yusei takes the reigns and wins for them... again.

Of course I won’t forget that the main group of antagonists don’t ever use a lick of logic, and their plot unveils always resort to a mix of shock and un-awe, recounting “oh woe is me” tales that not a single person could ever care for, much less remember, all for the sake of “justice, destiny, and redemption”. All of which falls flatter than if this show was called YuGiOh 1D.

Lastly, I will absolutely not end this portion of the review by not reminding everyone that, no matter what they say about that-one-spinoff, Yu-Gi-Oh! 5Ds had, unarguably, the worst plot twist of all time *mic drop*. That’s a fact, not an opinion. This is my review, not yours.

Season 2c rating: 0.4/5 - I’d rather watch GX Season 4 than this because at least that one ended quicker.

d. Finale (Episode 154):

I won’t waste any more of your time here, I’ll just straight up say it: This episode, directed by the series’ original director (who had been absent since the end of Season 1, mind you *cough*), was, as they say, pretty damn good and had me feeling a tinge of that emotional umphness, but only just a tease. It exudes actual care for the cast of this show, something that hadn’t held its presence in this show for an unfortunate amount of time. It’s a satisfying ending and leaves us without a doubt in our minds that these characters will go on to continue meaningful and fulfilling lives. A gentle, but firm send off. Nice.

Season 2d rating: 4.6/5 - wonderful ending, irked only by the distasteful amount crap preceded by it.

Season 2 overall rating: 2.375

Final Thoughts: Right, I usually add on something after I give my final overall rating, but before I do that, I just wanna say this: people talk about wasted potential all the time, but confuse nostalgic presence with excellence. What I mean by that is, this show had all the major markings of a narrative that conveyed meaning, and yet that got terribly lost along the way. The Finale brought it back up, reminding us why these characters were so endearing and why we bothered to stick through it all with them to the end, despite distasteful ventures. It took a few creative twists at first— in approach, most notably, throwing us into the action before building up its world and characters, and it paid off early on— but the obvious shift in direction less than midway through the series did not pan out well for it overall. Instead, 5Ds left us with a satisfying ending, sure, but about 2/3rds of its journey was just crashing and burning, and we just sat there feeling the bruises of the characters we watched, urging them to just get to the finish line already so we never have to experience this sadly mediocre trip ever again.

Final Overall Rating: 3.2/5.

#sai watches 5ds #ygo hell challenge #5ds review #a bit longer than the last two but i needed this like this lol #thanks if u rea this

9 notes · View notes

larissel · 5 years ago

Text

Day 3: Hollywood

Fandom: Legend of Korra

Ship: Baavira

Words: 1386

Summary: Baatar knew he isn’t cut for this kind of business, but it doesn’t hurt to play pretend still.

[AO3]

The house was empty and quiet, surprising Baatar when he entered his home after going through another exhausting and long day at work in the set; he had to make sure he was in the right place too, going back out to check his home’s address. He expected – prepared himself – to hear his family’s chatter, who often paid no mind to the noise level they make. They’re lucky they don’t have neighbors, the complaints would have been endless.

“Wow, your family is something else. You guys should have your own reality show!”

Baatar shuddered at the memory when someone brought that idea up, knowing a reality show starring his family would be a terrible idea. He was relieved when his father stopped his mother before the idea could struck her, his mother truly does misses being in front of the camera as the star.

Suyin Beifong rose through fame at a young age; her first role being in a toy commercial, then a television show for kids, a series regular, and finally having her first biggest role in her first movie. It drove her to the top, securing many awards throughout the years, and having her face practically everywhere. It’s a dream every young aspiring actor and actresses have. But then it all slowed down as she grew older and started a family…then the revelation of her juvenile past came into light. She lost everything.

Baatar sighed softly, wandering into his mother’s office, looking at the newspaper clipping and magazines that hung on the wall. Things ended up working out for his mother, told her story to the world and wrote a book about her life, opening the Zaofu Production, and helping others achieve their dreams. A frown was set in place on his features, what she doesn’t need is to produce a movie about her entire life.

Still, he respects how ambitious his mother can be. Something he wished he has.

He wasn’t like his siblings who are all stars in their own rights, though he is content enough to stay hidden and away from the spotlight. He enjoys working with the camera and creating the special effects, working with those whose work doesn’t get recognize. It’s a stressful job, but one that’s still enjoyable nonetheless, plus he’s not constantly hounded by the press either.

But one can still wonder…

The life of lights, camera, and action, how different would things be if he followed in his mother’s footsteps? Very different, the notion came to him, shuddering as he did so with the thought of ending up his diva of a mother—along with the fact that he has always been camera shy too. He remembered his mother placing him in front of the camera, how nerve-wracking that was and how hurtful it was to hear he didn’t have the talent for this career.

He stared at the awards that were all lined up perfectly in neat rows on a shelf with each and every one of them bearing his mother’s name; she took great care of them, seeing how they still shine after all this time and they have yet to fade in color. He picked one up – heavier than it looked – brushing his thumb across the engraving on the bottom that said “best actress”.

There was a distant look clouding his eyes, smiling as he held the trophy close to his chest and started to wave as if there was an audience before him. “Thank you, thank you.” He said, letting his imagination run wild, gazing down at the object in his hand. It is a dream of his to get one of these, a dream he hopes it’d come true one day. After all, he and many others working behind the scenes are the ones who brings the film to life.

“I would like to foremost thank my family and all of my crew,” he continued, “I would also like to thank the audience who supported the film, and finally and most importantly, I would like to especially thank a very special someone…” He’s thankful that he’s home alone, cheeks turning red at the thought of the special someone in his mind. But what he doesn’t know was the fact that he isn’t home alone, failing to hear the voice coming from the first floor and failing to hear someone walked up the stairs and was heading to his mother’s office.

The door creaked open…

“…like to especially thank a very special someone—”

“Baatar, there you are!”

Baatar nearly dropped his mother’s award, fumbling it around for a moment, catching it before it could hit the floor, and then putting it back onto its place on the shelf. “K-Kuvira, what…uh…what are you doing?” He stammered, just seconds ago, he was thinking about her.

“What I’m I doing?” Kuvira snorted. “The real question: what are you doing?”

“I was just…I was…I was…” Baatar sighed heavily. “…please don’t tell anyone…”

Kuvira smiled softly at him. “I won’t.”

A look of relief came to Baatar’s face, smiling gratefully. Though, he already knew she wouldn’t tell a soul of what she saw. “But really now, what are you doing? Here?” He had to ask.

“And how did you even get in here?”

“The door was unlocked.” She gave him a blunt look at his careless mistake. “Your mother said my script is here.” She said, making her way over to Suyin’s desk, rummaging around it before she finally found the script in one of the drawers.

“Is it any good?” Baatar asked, watching her skimmed and flipped through the pages. He still can’t believe his childhood best friend is a rising star, mentored by his own mother.

“Nope,” Kuvira said, cringing whenever she stopped at a page. “I do not understand the logic your mother has, a bad movie is a bad movie, and not even an award winning actor can save it.”

“It can’t be that terrible,” Baatar scoffed as he took the script off from her hands, looking through it himself, frowning. “Okay…maybe it can be that bad.”

Kuvira rolled her eyes, snatching the script back. “You want to help me practice?”

Baatar blinked, surprised. “I…don’t think I can do that…”

“Yes you can,” Kuvira said, opening Suyin’s drawer again, bringing out a copy of the original script in case she loses the first one, pushing it into his hands. “Pick a page, any page.” She began to do warm ups with techniques Suyin taught her, like massaging her jaw while she moved it around and saying “one-one won one race” over and over again.

“Um…page one-hundred and…five?” he suggested, interrupting her.

Kuvira flipped to the page he suggested, clearing her throat softly. “Robert, this is wrong.”

“What…ahem…what do you mean this is wrong, Ku--Isabella?” Baatar said, internally cringing.

“This!” Kuvira shouted, pouring her despair into her tone. “Us is what’s wrong!”

‘Wow, she really is good,’ he thought to himself, smiling before he shook his head and told himself not to get distracted, looking back down to read his next line. “Us isn’t what’s wrong! Love is always right, never wrong.” He could almost imagine the scene around them—drenched as it rained heavily, in the dark and lonely night without a soul in sight.

“How do you know you’re right, what if you’re wrong, Robert?” Her face twisted into anguish.

“I know what my heart feels for you…and I know you’re just afraid.” His tone was firm as he found himself more comfortable doing this.

“Yes, yes I am afraid! Everyone I loved always leaves me at the end!” Kuvira shouted as the corner of her eyes watered—real tears. “What makes you so different from them?!”

“Love is always right, never wrong,” Baatar repeated his words from prior ago. “I’m not them…you know I am not…” His voice and expression became softer.

At this point, neither of them knew whether or not they’re simply just acting. He knew of her past, knowing how much those lines hits home and how it’s getting harder to hide his feelings for her.

“Promise me you won’t leave me?” Kuvira whispered now, not bothering to look at her script.

“I promise,” Baatar whispered as he, too, did not bother to look down at his script.

At this point, they knew this wasn’t pretend.

#baaviraauweek2019 #baavira #legend of korra #kuvira #baatar jr #day 3: hollywood #my writing

5 notes · View notes

inknerd · 5 years ago

Text

May Wrap-Up 2019

I’ve had so much to do this month; reading wasn’t really my first priority^^ Still, the last week I took the time to catch up to reading, and I read a lot of books I’ve wanted to read for awhile, and I feel like I’ve read a variety of books from ya to poetry to nonfiction, so that’s fun!

POETER TÄNDER BARA LAMPOR by EMILY DICKINSON (translation by ANN-MARIE VINDE) ★★★☆☆

| 130 pages | 3 weeks to read | Published 2017

So this is a collection of some of Dickinson’s poetry, who I haven’t read anything of so this was fairly exciting! It had both the English version and the Swedish translation together with notes from the translator, and so it took me awhile to read... + The more I read the more I liked it? I’m very happy the Swedish translation was available, because sometimes I just didn’t get what Dickinson was writing until I read it in Swedish and then reread the English one again. - With that said, I don’t think I will read any more of Dickinson soon. It was good but not really my kind of poetry.

DISORDER IN COURT: GREAT FRACTURED MOMENTS IN COURTROOM HISTORY by CHARLES M. SEVILLA ★★☆☆☆ | 256 pages | 1 day to read | Published 1992

You might have seen the funny tumblr post about this one. I did, was intruiged but waited to buy it until my friend told me she planned to study law. I saw the opportunity, bought it, read it, and then gifted it to my friend. + So some of these stories were hilarious, and it just shows how silly humans are even in serious situations like being in court for a crime. - Unfortunately, I didn’t find it as funny as I thought I would? Some things flew over my head because lawyer lingo/a bit more complicated English, sometimes it took some time before I got the joke and then it’s not as funny, y’know? Also, some of the jokes were quite dated.

A VERY LARGE EXPANSE OF SEA by TAHEREH MAFI ★★★★★ | 310 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2018

So I was excited for this one, and then people seemed to have mixed opinions on it (not disliking it, just not loving it as much as they’d expected to) so I waited until it came to my local library and then finally started reading it. And I LOVED IT! + PEAK ROMANCE! The main relationship is so cute and heart-wrenching, I wasn’t annoyed at Shirin’s family which is usually the case for me with more contemporary/romance-styled novels. This book had an important story to tell and it succeded in my opinion. - Idk, can’t come up with something totally obvious but I’d hoped for a more closed ending rather than the more open one I got.

CHILDREN OF BLOOD AND BONE by TOMI ADEYEMI ★★★☆☆ | 544 pages | +2 weeks to read | Published 2018

So I finally read this book! I’ve been sort of struggling with if I should give this three or four stars but in the end... *sweat drop emoji* I feel like I might have hyped this up a bit too much in my head. But in the end it was an enjoyable read and the reason it took my a while to read it was because I was busy, not necessarily that I found it boring. + i loved the worldbuilding, the magic system was interesting and it was explained in a way that didn’t feel forced. - The romance was...not overly good and the ending was...meh. And while the worldbuilding and so on made the story more spectacular the general plot was nothing special.

AVENGERS: DESTINY ARRIVES by LIZA PALMER ★★★☆☆ | 304 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2019

So this is basically Avengers: Infinity War in bookform, and I ordered because I wanted to read it before Endgame came out. Sadly! It showed up on the day of the premiere and I just skimmed through it the first time. Now I read it more carefully and, yeah, it was basically what I expected. + So most of it was just like in the movie, but the artistic take Palmer did on the characters thoughts and emotions during the battle was very interesting to read! And the illustrations were very nice too! - I can’t confirm this without checking the movie (and I don’t have the time) but some small things I remember being slightly different. Just small things, but considering it’s a book of a movie I feel justified in being somewhat picky.

CAPTAIN MARVEL: HIGHER, FURTHER, FASTER by LIZA PALMER ★★★★☆ | 246 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2019

Bought this at the same time as Destiny Arrives, because the cover just looked so pretty and the premise looked cool! + This was a surprisingly refreshing read. Some of the things Palmer came up with herself in Infinity War really resonated with me, and here she has the chance to come up with things on her own without being restrained by a movie (this book happens way before the movie Captain Marvel). It felt like this book had some important things to say. - I wished this book stretched longer, if so only to touch more on the story of Carol becoming Captain Marvel - but at the same time I was fine with how the book ended.

THE PRINCESS SAVES HERSELF IN THIS ONE by AMANDA LOVELACE ★★★★☆ | 156 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2016

This was a reread for me! I’ve worked with poetry together with my students this past month and I was motivated to read this again after seeing that the third collection in this series came out not too long ago. I reread this mainly because I wanted to see if my feelings on it had changed, and was pleased to see that they hadn’t! It’s still an interesting read.

I plan to reread the second one as well before I buy the third one!

THE TRAVELLING CAT CHRONICLES by HIRO ARIKAWA ★★★★☆ | 256 pages | 5 days to read | Published 2012

+ This is one of those books were you know what will happen, yet it still carries enough emotional impact that you cry when it ends. Reading from a cat’s perspective was very interesting and overall, this was such a nice read!

KVINNOR I KAMP: 150 ÅRS KAMP FÖR FRIHET, JÄMLIKHET OCH SYSTERSKAP by MARTA BREEN & JENNY JORDAHL ★★★★☆ | 119 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2018

This is a graphic novel depicting some of the history of the women’s rights movement. + The art was nice and they choose to include not only stories from Sweden and the west but also other parts of the world, which was great.

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ★★★☆☆ | 175 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2011/1598

My reading of Shakespeare’s plays continue! I remember watching the movie from ‘93 with Emma Thompson and Kenneth Branagh in class and really liking it! So when it came to choose the next play this is one I really wanted to read. + Beatrice and Benedick is so funny and charming, this made me want to rewatch the movie! - Outside of Beatrice and Benedick it was a pretty classic, background Shakespearian story going on, that was interesting but not as much as forementioned.

CRAZY RICH ASIANS by KEVIN KWAN ★★★☆☆ | 467 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2013

Finally read this! I wanted to see the movie since I’d heard so many good things about it, but it turned out netflix didn’t have it... I might watch it some other time, though! + I really flew through this. The descriptions of the luxury all around the characters was so much fun to read and the story had so many colourful characters to cling to. I might continue on with this series! - Despite getting through this very quickly, there were definitely parts full of information that I wasn’t interested in reading. I also expected this to be way funnier than it was. For some reason I was under the impression this was a sort of romance-comedy but while some things were funny (or, absurd?) it didn’t really meet my expectations. Some things about the romance parts didn’t click with me, either.

THE POET X by ELIZABETH ACEVEDO ★★★★☆ | 361 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2018

+ I liked that it was written in verse and I liked the story in itself... I don’t know what more to say.

TIGER LILY by JODI LYNN ANDERSON ★★☆☆☆ | 292 pages | 2 days to read | Published 2012

I’d heard shifting opinions on this one, but decided the premise sounded too interesting to not give a chance. I liked this book well enough, by the end, but it was far from a new favourite. + and - The reasons I liked it was also the reasons I disliked it. I liked some characterisations or aspects of them, and disliked some of them. I found the mix between Neverland and the real world somewhat confusing and wished the author would’ve either sticked more the original story or less, if that makes any sense. As far as Peter Pan-retellings go, I think this was interesting, still.

VIPER by BEX HOGAN ★★☆☆☆ | 400 pages | 2 days to read | Published 2019

This was is a brand new ya fantasy trilogy that I probably won’t continue reading... + While the first half of the book was pretty boring and predictable the second half was way better. I liked the main character the best in the middle of the book, same with the romance. - As mentioned, the start of the book was pretty lackluster. The main character seemed pretty meek considering the circumstances, the romance was bleh and the plot unoriginal. This book had several things that I’ve seen before over and over again and it didn’t work too hard on making them seem different than normal. Overall this story lacked any real depth.

#books #julia reads #reading wrap-up #reading wrap-up: may 2019 #book recommendations #book recs #book reviews #ya #booklr #my post

2 notes · View notes

academiceve · 6 years ago

Text

Grad Profile #1: Interview with a Health Psychology Masters Student

I thought that it would be fun to introduce interview style blog posts on my blog! I have friends in amazing places, doing amazing things, some of which are attending graduate programs! I would also like to talk more about Psychology and what it is like to continue your studies in one of the subfields, so I hope I can hunt down more people but also include those in different disciplines too!

This first interview is with my dear friend, whom I know from undergrad, as we both studied Psychology. She is currently in her 2nd year of a Health Psychology masters program.

The Interview

1. Why did you decide to study Psychology for undergrad and what was your experience like?

Psychology was not actually the initial undergrad choice. I got interested in the subject sometime after taking an elective Psychology class in high school. It grew on me. Then after some researching and career testing, I decided to stick to the field. It was one of the best decisions I could have made. I thoroughly enjoyed my undergrad studies.

2. Name 3 favourite/least favourite Psychology subjects that you had to take during your undergraduate studies.

The favourite courses that I had in undergrad were definitely Abnormal Psychology, Marriage and Family, and Family and Addictions. The subjects were interesting on their own, what with dealing with different psychological disorders, subtleties of family life, and a broader understanding of addiction disorders. In addition, they were taught by the most amazing professors, who were really passionate about their subjects and knew a great deal, both from an academic standpoint and from personal working experience.

Meanwhile the subjects I liked the least were Evolutionary Psychology, Organisational Psychology and, as useful and necessary as it is in the field, Statistics. The first two subjects were simply not as appealing to me (and were perhaps taught by the wrong people). Meanwhile, statistics was never, and is still not my thing. I think that it’s alright because not everyone is destined for research and not everyone has to like the same things. The important thing is to try.

3. How did you know that you would like to further your studies by obtaining a masters degree?

For me, getting a masters degree was never a question of wanting it. It is just something that has to be done in order to actually work in the field. The question I had to face was figuring out which masters to get.

4. How and why did you choose to study Health Psychology for your masters degree? Talk a little about your program, how long it is, what kind of classes you take, etc.

Choosing Health Psychology for my masters was not an easy choice. It involved a lot of research and a lot of talking. There were talks with professors, family and friends. The first offered their professional insights. Family, meanwhile, helped to figure out the financial/scholarship matters. Lastly, friends were there to listen and to offer their own insights. Honestly, sometimes, it felt less like talking and more like rambling about the same thing over and over again. But it helped. All the options were considered. It makes me all the more glad that I had someone to talk to.

As for the program itself, the Health Psychology program takes two years to complete and consists of 120 credits. Each semester consists of classes worth 30 credits. It amounts to about 5 subjects each semester, except for the last, which has only 2 that are worth more credits: second practicum and thesis writing and defense. There are several mandatory classes, such as counselling and psychological evaluation, statistics (yay, but sarcastically), rehabilitation, etc. Then there are 3 elective classes that can be taken. For the thesis, it takes 3 semesters to write. The first semester is dedicated to literature review and introduction, the second to methods and the last one to discussion and results.

5. What do you like/dislike about studying Health Psychology? Is it what you expected it to be? Is it different from what you expected? If so, how?

In regards to my personal liking of the program, I can say that I am rather enjoying it. Some of the subjects are particularly interesting and valuable. For instance, I do not know what I would have done without the psychological evaluations class or the mock counselling sessions in various other classes. They were the basis I used during the first practicum, where real people came with real problems and real psychological evaluation needs. My masters was my standing rock, helping me bit by bit become better at what I want to do in my life.

Other subjects are naturally, not as interesting or valuable. Then again, it has to do with personal interests and qualifications of people teaching them. You might be surprised to hear that sometimes a person with three degrees and teaching a masters course might have no idea what they are talking about.

On an ending note, here is something I wish someone would have told me. It might sound out of blue but I hope it helps. Health Psychology, while part of the medical psychology branch, deals a whole lot more with somatic diseases and their psychological treatment, e.g. diabetes or heart attacks, and less so with psychological disorders, e.g. depression or schizophrenia. Clinical, meanwhile, does the opposite. That said, if there is anyone out there undecided between health psychology and clinical, really consider that distinction. While I made my choice, no one made it clear enough while I was applying. To me the two fields seemed completely overlapping (I was wrong).

6. How did you feel before beginning your masters studies? What the transition from undergrad to post grad was like?

Starting something new can be a pretty scary experience. It was for me. Especially because I had to move to another city. It was my biggest leap of independence yet. Though, scary as it was, I was still excited for my studies. As for the transition, I expected it to be more challenging. It wasn’t easy and there were certainly days when I called my family or my friends and told them that I wanted to quit, to come back home, to try again later or maybe never. I was fortunate to have them there at those times. Then, as the academic year went on, I made new friends, I got adjusted to the different system, different language, new professors and a schedule that was absolutely different than the one in undergrad. All in all, life got better.

7. What was your first year experience like of your master’s degree?

I started the year very excited, albeit a little scared. There were ups and downs, subjects I adored, professors who were amazing, then there were classes I skipped (yes, even in grad school) and the professors I dreaded hearing lecture. Then the motivation was gone. I am not entirely sure why. Health Psychology is something that I do like. Perhaps what I missed was a gap year, to take a break from academics. The summer that I took off was not enough.

So here’s another advice: if you feel like you need a break, take it. No one knows you better than you. Maybe you don’t need a break, maybe you can go into grad school right away and nail those several years. If not, rest. Grad school won’t go away.

In my personal experience, I don’t regret the decision of not taking a gap year. I had an enjoyable year. I just don’t know if I would make that decision again given a second chance.

8. Is the workload different from undergrad? If so, how? Do you do more work now or is it about the same? Do you have days off? Any tips for adjusting to the workload in graduate school?

It’s rather difficult to compare the workload between undergrad and grad school. In undergrad, the classes were spaced out during the week, Monday to Friday, usually every day; there was a lot of homework, a lot of reading. Now, the days I need to physically go into class range from two to maximum three, as a way to benefit students who also work. The readings are still just as plenty but I guess undergrad teaches what to read, what to skim and what to pretend to have read. For homework, well... It’s all about whether you manage your time right. If I did my assignments at the rate I allowed myself in undergrad, I would have failed the year. The expectations are much higher, instructions are fewer, and getting used to writing papers in my native tongue after doing it in English for four years has been difficult. Do not even get me started on the length. Enjoy undergrad while you can.

Key to getting everything done comes down to time management, multitasking and a few other things I would like to briefly expand upon. One, it is crucial to communicate with your professors. Look at your assignment due dates (make a list of those) in advance. If you see that a semester worth of assignments is crammed into a single week, tell them. The professors can and usually adjust the dates to benefit the students. Unless they are told hours before or after the due date. Two, for the love of puppies, take time off. Go see a movie, read a book, invite a friend over for tea, whatever you like, the important part is that you don’t fry your brain trying to do everything in one sitting. Leave that for the midterms and finals. Everyone says they will study ahead but no one does. Cure? None.

9. How do you manage your time? Are there any productivity/time management apps/tools that you use?

As said above, time management is crucial. To better succeed at it, I have all of my due dates for assignments listed. It helps me decide which projects are a priority, how much time I can dedicate to each, by when I should be done.

Another tool is making a list of everything that needs to be done, say, in a day. Write it down on a sticky note, a piece of paper, whichever; it helps to keep focused. It is also very satisfying to cross things out.

Lastly, I would like to promote Zotero or Refworks when it comes to making “References”. It saves a lot of time and frustration. It stashes all the read articles in a single place and makes references for you with a few single clicks. Saved me hours!!!

10. What was the application process like for grad school for you? Did you have to do a lot more/or less in comparison to undergrad? Did you have to have an interview?

Contrary to undergrad application, which has a national-wide online system to help you out, applying to grad school is on you. Every university has different application dates and deadlines and there are always the application fees. Universities also limit to how many of their programs you can apply to. Mine had four (for both paid and government financed studies), meanwhile another university I applied to had twelve. Most require to come for an interview. Applying is rather stressful and much more independent. Though, at that point in life, it’s not something you can’t handle.

11. Since you had to do an interview, please share what kind of questions they asked you and any tips that you have preparing for an interview.

As much as I would love to share my interview experience, I am afraid it’s already mostly lost to me. I was super stressed out on the day because it was my number one choice program. What I do remember was being asked why I wanted to study in their university, why the particular program, would I still come to study there if I did not receive a scholarship (which was an option for me) and if I could read 10 English books in a year (still don’t know the point of that). I think they also asked me to tell them about my professional experience. Not that any undergrad has much. It then helps to speak of conferences, what you’ve attended, if you’ve presented somewhere.

Interviews are scary, but they shouldn’t be. Just remember that the interview is such a small tiny thing. Even if it doesn’t work out the first time, you can try again. A lot depends on our cognitions. If we tell ourselves it is frightening, then we make it so, in turn making ourselves more prone to “stress mistakes”. If we don’t, it’s not. I think I remember telling myself: “whatever happens, happens”, before going inside. That helped. Besides, the outcome depends as much on the interviewers’ moods, personalities and personal bias, as it does on your personal input.

More specifically, to please the interviewer(s) you should look up your program. Knowing what classes you may be able to take and gushing how excited you would be to take them is really a bonus. Tell them how it aligns with your professional interests, so have at least some idea what your professional interests are.

12. What are the top 3 study tips that you use while studying for your masters degree?

Write down due dates and start completing the assignments at least several days before it has to be turned in.

Do readings on time.

Make detailed ‘to-do’ lists for the assignments at hand. Cross off completed work to feel better.

13. I know that this is the most annoying question, but after your masters studies, do you have an idea of what you would like to do? Talk about your dream career choice. What kind of further schooling you will need to achieve it?

Doing my practicum has helped me realise that I would really like to work as a health psychologist. I found that I rather enjoy doing psychological evaluations and counselling people. I am well aware that I still lack the skill and the practice. It makes me look forward to the second practicum, where I will get a chance to improve and learn more. And after I am done, I hope I can apply my knowledge and continue to improve as I work. I do wish to go into one of the psychology schools and become a psychotherapist. Perhaps, sometime later in life, once I’ve rested from the academics and actually earned the money necessary to further my studies. We’ll see. I’d like to be hopeful and encourage the same in others.

I hope you enjoyed this interview and a massive thank you to my friend for agreeing to answer questions and talk more about her experience in graduate school! If you would like to read more from me, click HERE to see other blog posts! You can also follow my studygram HERE for some inspiration!

#eveincollege #written #academiceve #graduate school #graduate school apps #gradblr #psychology #health psychology #clinical psychology #undergraduate #postgraduate #masters degree #masters student #the grad path

33 notes · View notes

rahirah · 6 years ago

Link

via Barb's Place We went to see Crimes of Grindelwald Saturday, and while it was moderately enjoyable in parts, it was definitely not in the class of the first movie. This morning I went out to the back yard to dig a hole to plant the sugar cane. About a foot or so down, I struck the corner of a big hunk of concrete. It was too far down to be left over from our recent fence construction, and I was curious, so I dug the whole thing out. It was a fence footing; there was the rusted remains of a metal post in the middle. It was outside the fence line that existed when we bought the house; Kathy suggested that it might have been a fence around the long-dry-and-capped-off well on that corner of the yard. The interesting thing, though, was that once I'd dug out the concrete, I found something underneath it. This bottle was buried upside down in the dirt, placed precisely so the end of the metal pole would have stood on it, as if upon a pedestal. I'm lucky that I didn't accidentally hit it with the shovel and break it. It must have been done deliberately – possibly to hold the end of the pole up off the bottom of the original hole, so that cement could get underneath it when poured? I don't know. It's not an especially old or valuable bottle (given the age of the house, I think it would date, at the earliest, to the 60s). But the knowledge that there could be small secrets hidden in any random patch of soil is a strange and wonderful thing.

I spent some time this weekend doing digging of another kind. Over at seasonal_spuffy there was a post asking people who'd participated in the first round back in 2005 to share their memories. So I went back into my journal archives to hunt for any relevant posts I could link to, and I ended up skimming through a bunch of old entries from late 2005 through mid-2007. It was a nostalgic treat to see so many old names who've long since left fandom, and sad at the same time. There were several notable fandom kerfuffles in that time period: the Cousin Jean thing, the fall_for_spike brouhaha (which led directly to the founding of seasonal_spuffy) and a lot of other, smaller squabbles, many of which I'd entirely forgotten. It was strange reading my old posts. My writing style was a good deal more performative in those days; reading them, I feel as if I'm reading someone who's desperate to impress people with how witty she is. (Which I was. And still am, alas.) Occasionally I ran across things that made me cringe; did I really say that? But at the same time, I envy that old me her willingness to engage in debate. (Even, ironically, as she professed herself to be too worn out on fannish debate to indulge. Ha, Younger!Barb had no idea.) I stopped reading at about the point that the first issues of Buffy S8 were published; it's at that point that Spuffy fandom started to gradually become rancorous again, as people disagreed about the comics, and I didn't feel like revisiting that particular era. (It's not that 2004-2006 were completely free of fannish conflict; as I said, there were several notable wanks during that period. But 2007-2010 was more of an eat-your-own period.) Even in the posts I read, I noticed the beginnings of a few conflicts that came to a head later. For one thing, you can gradually see the political polarization of fandom growing. Prior to the 2004 election, I can't remember politics ever coming up in fannish space. But the huge anti-gay political backlash of 2004 brought politics into fandom with a vengeance. Buffy fandom skewed liberal, as one might imagine – indeed, I'm really not sure why the show would appeal to most social conservatives. Though I certainly knew my share of conservative fannish women who thought homosexuality was a sin in the real world, but nevertheless read and wrote reams of porny male/male slash fiction. A number of my own readers were against civil rights for same sex couples; they didn't like it when I pointed out that if they were willing to consume my fan fiction and exchange friendly comments with me, while at the same time voting to keep me a second class citizen, they were not really my friends – that a polite homophobe was still a homophobe. By 2006, the conservative fans were complaining that liberal fans were oppressing them. (The precise form of this oppression was never very clear.) By 2008, IIRC, the most vocal conservative BtVS fans had closed their journals in a huff. Of course, Strikethrough happened in 2007, and a lot of people closed their journals in a huff. I think the last big argument along those lines happened in 2009, when Aadler objected to the presence of slash programming at Writercon 2009. The roots of some more personal kerfuffles were there, too. One was a person who disagreed with everything I wrote – they claimed to be a Spike fan, but I honestly can't remember them ever saying anything positive about the character, ever. We'd become acquainted at the Tea At The Ford forum, but never friended each other on LJ. Nevertheless, any time I posted meta, they felt the need to come over to my journal and tell me in great detail just how wrong I was. I had long since decided that there was zero point in arguing with them, because our premises were incompatible. But in those days I strove to respond politely to everyone who commenting in my journal, so there are quite a few long comment strings of us going back and forth. Eventually, IIRC, they compared my fan fiction to Silas Marner, while admitting they hadn't actually read any of it, (my fanfic, that is, not Silas Marner) and that made me cranky enough that I stopped responding to them. Another one was a person who was a Buffy/Spike fan, but they only liked the dark, dysfunctional S6 part of the relationship. They were very grouchy about Spike having been redeemed in canon, and even grouchier about the fact that the vast majority of Spuffy writers preferred to write the pairing as more or less functional. To this day I have no idea why they were hanging around my journal (like Person #1, they never friended me, just popped in occasionally to comment on posts they disagreed with.) Eventually, IIRC, I made some sort of grumpy post about something in canon I disliked; I don't even remember if it was about the comics, or Seasons6-/7, or what. But they responded, telling me that if I didn't like canon, I should leave the fandom. Looking at it now, that was a pretty ridiculous thing for them to say, considering how much they themselves disliked the fact that S7 Spuffy wasn't a total trainwreck. I could have just laughed it off. But they caught me in a bad mood, and I was tired of them coming to my journal just to tell me that they didn't like my fic and thought my meta was dumb, so I snapped at them. I don't remember if I outright told them to stop commenting on my journal, or if I just asked them why the hell they were reading me when they disliked everything I wrote. Either way, they were highly insulted, called me a bully or something similar, and stomped off in a huff. I never heard from them again. There were much rider-ranging kerfuffles that came later, towards the end of S8, which culminated in me bowing out of the fandom entirely for awhile. But reading these old posts and seeing the first stirrings of these smaller arguments felt like signs of things to come, signs I should have taken heed of. I always like to think of myself as a reasonable person who can get on with most people, even the ones I disagreed with. Someone who can handle criticism. But a lot of the time, I fail in that. Which is depressing. But all one can do is try to do better next time. That's all any of us can do, really. comments

#IFTTT #Barb's Place

9 notes · View notes