#also to clarify it’s not like i don’t like being known for math. it is just Extremely Strange
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also unrelated but today one of my roommates called me the resident math expert which like. yeah but also that feels so Wrong 💀
#i miss my hs reputation as the best at english in our class#although if i go through w the english minor thing… i could be the resident math AND english expert…. 👀#personal#the calc chronicles#the stats chronicles#the engineering chronicles#also to clarify it’s not like i don’t like being known for math. it is just Extremely Strange#given that my entire life i was vv well known for my love of literature and my skill w languages#and now here. nobody knows me for that. it’s disconcerting#was just jarring to get that glimpse of how ppl perceive me now#like that seems like an enormous part of my identity to just be missing from their viewpoints. but it makes sense i don’t have much time#to read anymore and there’s so room in my schedule for french etc like there’s nothing ive done to indicate these things abt myself. but#*no room#the english chronicles
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6 Great Ways to Stand Out As a Student (And Get Strong Recommendation Letters)
In my 10+ years of teaching at the college level, I’ve met a lot of students.
Recently, a colleague and I shared how professors we’ve both known have often referred to the “top 1%” of students they’ve taught in their careers. I quickly did a bit of rough math in my head, and it turns out that I have likely taught at least 1,500 students in my own career. This excludes the many students I’ve taught in test prep programs, after school programs, and summer programs. Add those, and I could probably at least double the total number of students I’ve taught to 3,000.
Using the “top 1%” metaphor, this means that a teacher who has taught for 10 years has about 15-30 students that come to mind when they think of “the best” students they’ve worked with.
The question, then, becomes: How do you, as a student, make it into that top 1%?
Making it into a teacher’s top 1% isn’t just for the sake of playing teacher’s pet. It’s practical. As a student, it benefits you to not simply “go through the motions” of school, being just another name or number on a roll sheet. Of course, having a good relationship with your teachers benefits you in that you will have better communication with them, which enhances your ability to learn while in their classes.
But, it can also benefit you long after their classes are over. If you’ve had great relationships with your teachers—even perhaps making it into their top 1%—they will be more likely to write you excellent letters of recommendation, which are vital to your success in the college admissions process.
So, with this in mind, below is a list of 6 great ways to stand out as a student so that teachers will give you strong recommendation letters.
1. BE RELIABLE
Many of the best teachers admire students who don’t necessarily follow the rules. But, it’s important to clarify that this only applies to being an intellectual rule-breaker and thinking outside of the box. What teachers don’t appreciate are students who deliberately disobey rules that are established for the sake of helping their classes run smoothly.
This may seem like it goes without saying. But one of the simplest ways to be a great student is just to be reliable. You can do this by always completing your work, arriving to class on time, and showing up every day prepared and ready to participate.
It’s not so much that students stand out for being reliable; it’s that students stand out for being unreliable—in other words, for all the wrong reasons. So, take the first best step toward securing a strong recommendation letter this way.
2. BE A TEAM PLAYER 🤝
Most of the best classrooms (virtual or otherwise) function like a sports team, where the teacher leads or guides (like a coach) and all of the students also have a role (like players). This stands in contrast to traditional (and largely outdated) classroom models where the teacher takes the only active role and the students are merely passive observers.
Good teachers relish students who are excellent team players—who listen actively, participate by making meaningful contributions to discussions, and generally exude a positive energy.
In my own experience, I’ve found that classes tend to function like the organic and often unpredictable flow of a basketball game. Some of the best moments in my classes have occurred when my game plan suddenly (and wonderfully) shifted because a student raised a compelling idea in discussion that we then pursued. I think of such students as my best teammates, giving me assists as I try to make a play.
But being a great team player in class doesn’t just involve your interactions with your teacher. It also involves how you interact with your other teammates, or classmates. Some of the strongest students I’ve worked with stand out in my memory not just because of how they treated their classmates, but also because of how their classmates responded to them.
Just as the best team players know when to lead and when not to hog the ball so as to let others on the team shine, so too do the best students know when to speak up and step in when their classmates need help, but also when not to dominate the conversation, actively listening instead so as to let their classmates also shine.
3. DEMONSTRATE CURIOSITY 🤔
Students often believe—incorrectly—that the best way to be a team player is simply to be the most “intelligent” student in the room. In reality, raw intelligence is typically not the attribute that good teachers appreciate most in their students. Instead, this attribute is curiosity.
What does it mean to “demonstrate curiosity” as a student? Generally speaking, it means having an open mind. If you encounter course material that is initially off-putting because it seems too difficult, for instance, don’t run the other way out of frustration. Instead, ask yourself: Why might this material be of interest? Why have people devoted their entire lives to its study? What could I learn from it?
4. VISIT OFFICE HOURS 🚪
The best letters of recommendation are written by teachers who really know the student in question. Although there are exceptions to this rule, it’s typically not ideal, then, to request a letter from a teacher who you only studied with for a brief summer session, or who you never actually spoke to in person (say, from an online course).
In my own experience, the recommendation letters I write are better the more I know a student. So, if there is a teacher with whom you feel comfortable, don’t be afraid to open up to them a bit.
Why is this helpful for recommendation letters, exactly? If you are taking several AP courses while also juggling a heavy load of extracurriculars, a resume or transcript will show this at a glance. But if you are taking night classes while also raising a child or taking care of your ailing parents, for instance, the extent of your hard work will not likely appear anywhere on paper.
If you take the time to open up about the particulars of your life to a teacher, however, they can speak to your perseverance and grit in a meaningful recommendation letter to an admissions committee. That added understanding could very well mean the difference between a college acceptance or none.
You may or may not have opportunities to open up to your teachers during class. And you may or may not feel comfortable doing so. So, take advantage of your teachers’ office hours, when you can speak with them one-on-one.
5. TURN IN AN IMPRESSIVE ASSIGNMENT 🥇
When writing recommendation letters, the best teachers will not write generally about the student in question. Rather, they will look for specifics to discuss. After all, specific examples are what help readers visualize and relate to what a writer is describing, ultimately becoming convinced of their claims.
In order to do this, teachers need to be supplied with specifics to write about you. So, if you’ve written an especially impressive paper, completed a particularly dynamic presentation, or organized a uniquely inspiring event, bring this to your teacher’s attention. It will give them something to focus portions of their recommendation letter around, and they can point to these specific examples as evidence of your mastery of a subject, your hard work, your passion, or any of your other exceptional traits.
Ultimately, your teacher’s reflections on these detailed examples will give admissions committees something to remember about you as a candidate, which is crucial considering how many applications colleges receive each year.
6. STAY IN TOUCH
Typically, students don’t require recommendation letters immediately upon completing a course. So, it can be difficult having to reach out to former teachers semesters—or even years—down the road. In this case, it can feel awkward asking them for the favor of writing a letter since you haven’t spoken in some time. You may wonder if they even remember you!
To avoid this, I suggest emailing your teachers not long after a course has ended just to say a friendly hello, to share that you enjoyed their class, and to ask if they might be open to writing you a recommendation letter in the future. Although you might not require the letter immediately, asking in advance in this way is a good idea for a few reasons. It demonstrates that you are taking initiative by being so forward thinking about your future success. It also helps to plant a seed in your teacher’s mind; they will be more likely to remember you when you reach out to officially request a letter one day.
SOME FINAL ADVICE FOR REQUESTING LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION
When requesting a letter of recommendation, it’s always best to ask your teachers well in advance of the deadline so that they have plenty of time to complete the work. This means that you should usually aim for giving them at least 4 weeks and never less than 2 weeks. Remember that while they typically understand that writing such letters comes with the job and are happy to help out their students in this way, teachers are very busy people. So, do what you can to make the task as simple as possible for them.
Beyond giving them ample time to complete their letters, you can also simplify the task for your teachers by giving them a copy of your resume/accomplishments and a few of your strongest assignments as references. Finally, be sure to always ask at least one more individual than is required as a backup in case your original letter writer doesn’t come through or fails to get their letter in on time.
#appblr#studyblr#college prep#college admissions#high school#college#rec letters#letters of recommendation#LOR
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(Idea by @thesmileystudio but with the singular change of nOBODY ON THE SHIP KNOWING ABOUT IT)
So there I was, being rudely interrupted from my first dreamless sleep since the Highbrary by a frantic Bastille.
One thing we need to clarify. Don’t wake people up to help them after getting sick. I mean really, that’s extremely counterproductive to everything that any foster parents (or other Smedrys) have ever told me. (Surely there’s no oddly backwards Free Kingdomer logic about THAT, right?)
Of course, this situation might have possibly been different, since usually sickness isn’t caused by proximity to an acclaimed Hushlands landmark.
(No, I’m not kidding. In hindsight, why else would anyone build a giant metal arch in the middle of nowhere? For the “aesthetic?” Yeah, right.)
I’m going to assume you guys need context. I’m also going to assume I’m going to have to be the one to give it.
Fine. Here we go again.
“Why are we flying this way to Nalhalla? Isn’t it the other way?” I asked.
Kaz nodded. “We’re picking up Aydee on the way. I’m sorry, kid, but we’ve got to tell her the news about Attica.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Silence filled the aircraft after that.
For those of you reading this WITHOUT having read the last five books of my autobiography and Bastille’s sixth installment first of all, why? Why are you here? You don’t even know my name, do you? Those of you in the Hushlands are probably questioning why a prison in France is shaking me awake, aren’t you? Read the other books first, you sicko. Secondly, since of course you’re probably still here despite my admonishing, accept this recap.
My name is Alcatraz Smedry. My family is known for having Talents for stuff like breaking things (me), getting lost (Kaz), and being bad at math (Aydee). Or at least that’s how things used to go, until I accidentally released the Dark Talent upon the world and broke the talents. (You know, as one does under pressure.)
The Librarians control the Hushlands. (lands such as the United States or China) and hide that fact from everyone who’s not in their cult while simultaneously trying to take over the free kingdoms (lands such as Nalhalla, Mokia, etc.) and incorporate them into their ever-growing empire.
The last volume I wrote detailed our infiltration into the Highbrary (Or as Hushlanders might know it, the U.S. Library of Congress) and introduced “Cousin Dif,” aka Biblioden, aka the Scrivener, aka the original head of the Librarians who was supposed to be dead years ago.
He betrayed us all when we least expected it, then sacrificed my father on an altar and shot my grandfather, leaving me the last surviving member of the true Smedry line of Oculators, who can use special glasses to do cool stuff.
So, basically, we failed completely.
Or so I thought.
Bastille’s recently released installment covered a LOT of happenings, including but not limited to Grandpa Smedry somehow managing to get his talent back in time to save his life, (He’s still arriving late to his bullet wound to this day.) gravity breaking across the entire world, (I plead the fifth on that one.) a diplomatic discussion with the Dark Talent itself that ended in the other talents coming back, and me having no choice but to give a little bit of Smedry Talent to everyone in the world.
So if you ever find yourself waking up looking uglier than usual, or tripping over nothing, or putting something in one place and coming back to find it gone, that was probably my fault.
Sorry about that.
“Hey, Kaz? Can we stop for food somewhere?”
“Sure, kid. We’re coming up on St. Louis, so we can find a place there if anyone has any Hushlander currency.”
I had, in fact, procured some from the Highbrary, and I told Kaz so.
“Alright! Lemme just set the detour real quick,” Australia said.
“Nice, I’ve always wanted to see the Gateway Arch,” I said, sitting in the nearest empty chair.
Bastille scoffed. “I don’t understand Hushlanders. Lots of gates have arches. Why is this one so special?”
I shrugged. “Mostly because it’s big and metal, and I think you can go inside it, but that might be a different landmark. I guess we don’t have to see it.”
“Well, if we’re gonna be there anyway, I suppose we can stop by it for a few minutes,” Bastille said, rolling her eyes.
“Actually, if you’re in full armor and the rest of us minus Kaz are in formalwear… if we go somewhere that public, we’re definitely going to attract unwanted attention. We probably shouldn’t stop in a city that big at all,” I rationalized.
Bastille rolled her eyes. “There are extra clothes on this thing for a reason, Smedry. We can make something work.”
“Alright, then. Australia, I’m afraid you’re going to have to hover and let whoever’s coming with me down on the ladder. A giant penguin landing in the middle of the city would be way too noticeable. Speaking of which, who’s coming with me?”
Bastille, Sing, and Kaz volunteered.
“Alrighty, then. I’m going to need some way to keep contact with you guys. Australia, how do you feel about Courier’s Lenses?”
“Um… better than the first time the two of us used them?”
“That’ll work. Australia, you’re gonna have to take everyone’s orders and pass them onto me through the lenses. Can you do that?”
“Um… maybe? Do we have a backup plan?”
I shrugged. “Only if Kaz still has his cell phone.”
Kaz gave me a thumbs up. “Yup! Sure do!”
“Leave it with Australia and there’s our backup plan. Now, I’m still going to be at least acting like I’m using the phone. Hushlanders aren’t exactly… used to lenses, so don’t freak out when you see me on the phone. It’s purely for aesthetic purposes.”
“Okay.”
“Bastille, Sing, and Kaz, you go change into T-shirts and shorts. I’ll be doing the same. I’ll tell you if they’re on wrong when you’re done.”
And so began a somewhat infiltration into St. Louis.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When we came back together, we found out that Sing had no taste in clothes. At all.
At least Bastille had chosen a fairly normal-looking black tee-shirt with some sarcastic comment on it and a pair of bermuda shorts.
And it turns out Kaz looks pretty good in a sweater vest. (Who knew?)
Sing, however… Well, some things are better illustrated in pictures.
I looked at Sing. “Okay, you know what? Sing, can you just find a plain, white shirt?”
Sing nodded. “Alright!” he said, already running (tripping once) to the room he’d claimed on Penguinator.
“Bastille, that’s perfect. Great job.”
Bastille smirked. “Thanks, Smedry. You don’t look to bad yourself.”
(A/N: If you’re wondering what he’s wearing)
I blushed, quickly changing the subject when Sing came back, wearing, as I’d asked, a white t-shirt.
“Alright, Australia, drop us down there. We can walk from here.”
It was true. There was a Steak ’n’ Shake not too far from the edge of town we were approaching, so I told everyone ahead of time what their options were.
Australia dropped us off, and I put on my Courier’s Lenses as we walked to the Steak ’n’ Shake.
“Alrighty, guys. Check out the menu while I call Australia.” I said, pulling out the cell phone and acting like I was putting in a phone number.
“Hi!” Australia gasped. “OH MY GOSH ITS WORKING SO WELL??? WOW!”
I winced at her volume. “Okay, Australia. Ask everyone whether they want chicken tenders or a burger, and write it down so you can tell me.”
“You got it!” the Courier’s Lenses blinked out as Australia took them off.
Kaz grinned. “The cheeseburger looks pretty good. Also, what are milkshakes?”
I gasped, faux offendedly. “Okay yeah we have to introduce everyone to milkshakes. Wait, Kaz, do you know if anyone with us is lactose intolerant?”
Kaz shook his head. “Nope, nobody on Penguinator is lactose intolerant.”
“Great! Now I just have to-” at that precise moment, Australia’s Couriers Lenses were turned back on. “Nice! Australia, ask around for milkshake orders. They’ve got Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry, Banana, Oreo Cookies 'n Cream, Mint Oreo, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Birthday Cake, Cotton Candy, M&M's, Reese's peanut butter cup, Reese's peanut butter, Reese’s chocolate peanut butter, Nutella, Butterfinger, Kit-Kat, and Snickers.”
(A/N: yes I did have to copy and paste the shake menu and delete the calories and ingredient information this hurt me)
Australia dutifully wrote down each flavor and made a saluting motion before turning off her lenses again.
“Alright, guys! Any minute now and we’ll be able to order.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About half an hour later, the four of us returned to Penguinator with plenty of fast food for the others before immediately going back down to see the Gateway Arch.
A few minutes in, Sing tripped.
Of course, we made nothing of it.
A few minutes later, the milkshake started to disagree with me.
“Oof. I should NOT have gotten a large.”
Bastille scoffed. “Obviously.”
We came within sight of the arch, and my head began to pound.
Well, that’s not the milkshake, is it, I thought.
My stomach turned as we walked closer, and I found myself suddenly drained of all energy. Where before I’d had the quickest strides out of the team, now I was lagging about two feet behind Kaz, very much in last place.
Needless to say, Bastille noticed. Also needless to say, she decided to make fun of me for it. “You’d better not be falling asleep back there, Smedry,”
“No, m’fine,” I said, although I definitely was feeling a little sleepy.
We were so close; I couldn’t give up now. Bastille was gonna lose her mind when she found out we could, in fact, go inside the thing, up all the way to the top. There were windows up there, I was pretty sure.
She wanted to make fun of me for lagging behind? Well, we’d see how she felt about going ahead of everyone else when we were up six hundred thirty feet in the air.
The world seemed to spin all of a sudden, but on the bright side, we were almost to the ticket center.
“Hey guys! We can go inside it! Let’s go!” Sing exclaimed, pointing at a sign.
Kaz hung back. “I don’t know, guys. Are you sure you wanna go in? I mean, think about Bastille, that’s pretty high up…”
Bastille shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”
I gave a small smile that probably looked like a grimace.* “That’s the idea. It’s time I get some teasing ammunition for once.”
Kaz looked at me. “Al, you’re not lookin’ to good. I don’t know if you’d survive up there without passing out.”
“M’fine, Kaz. C’mon, let’s get our tickets.”
We waited in line at the ticket center for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. My legs felt like gelatin, but Sing looked so excited, and I sure as heck wasn’t gonna be the one to rob him of this experience.
I inhaled sharply. White-hot pain stabbed through my head, uncannily reminiscent of the headaches I’d get as a child. (I now knew they were a result of Oculatory power building up in me at unhealthy levels.)
“You alright, Smedry? We can’t have you fainting away on us.” Bastille snarked.
“Fine, fine. Just a headache.”
“Drama queen.”
“Okay, Bastille.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Guys! The line’s moved!” Sing said, effectively finishing the argument for us.
I hobbled forward, swaying like one of those inflatable tube men you see in the Hushlands sometimes. (For you Free Kingdomers reading this, think holding a singular cooked noodle vertically and moving your hand back and forth slightly, but upside down and with two smaller noodles attached to the first one.)
Bastille steadied me. “Whoa, there. Don’t go fainting away on me, Smedry.”
I tried to think of a good comeback, but my mind wasn’t working and my vision was fuzzy and when I looked back at Bastille all that came out was, “S’rry.” (Brain-clouding radiation. Obviously.)
I don’t really remember what happened after that, but I woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, perfectly fine, with Bastille shaking me like a child rolling out play-doh.
“Bastille, stop, I’m awake!” I got up and looked around, taking in my surroundings, which seemed to be some sort of makeshift infirmary. “How and when did we get back here?”
“I carried you, idiot.”
“Oh.” I could feel my cheeks reddening at the implication that Bastille had been lugging me around like a sack of potatoes back to Penguinator.
I looked back up at Bastille, and immediately received a smack to the face as a reward for my eye contact.
“Ow… what the heck?”
Bastille then proceeded to tackle-hug me back onto the bed. I stiffened.
This is once again a time to tell the women reading this to please give us men a warning before you hug us. We need warning. (You know what, just everyone give people warning in general it doesn’t matter the gender.)
“Alcatraz, please NEVER do that again; Sing said he could feel your pulse slowing down. You could’ve died, Smedry. I…” Bastille got up and paced around the room, stopping at a window. “I can’t lose you.”
I blinked stupidly. “You can’t lose me?” What on earth was that supposed to mean?
Bastille looked down, and I wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or if her cheeks were genuinely as red as mine. “For one, your entire family would kill me, and for two, the knights would kill me again.”
“So, purely diplomatic, then,” I said, not sure why I was feeling strangely disappointed.
“That, yeah.”
I looked down at the ground, trying to hide the fact that my face was probably tomato red. We were flying closer to St. Louis, and as we approached, I could feel a headache flaring up again. I wobbled back to my bed as spots swam in my vision, and the last thing I remember before passing out was seeing the top of the Gateway Arch through the floor.
I woke up with Australia on the bed next to me, trying to calm down a panicked Sing.
“It’s fine, Sing. It was just a little headache.”
Sing raised an eyebrow. “You said you were really dizzy.”
Australia looked at me and slowly shook her head. “You should be worried about Alcatraz; he passed out again, but he’s awake now. Go interrogate him.”
With my luck, that did the trick, and Sing immediately ran over to (for some bizarre reason) check my vitals.
“Sing, I’m fine now. I don’t know what came over me.”
Sing looked about to cry. “You said you were fine last time and look what happened!”
“Yeah, why are we suddenly fine now?” Australia wondered. “Like, I was REALLY dizzy. Sing, you saw it. I almost fell over.”
“I don’t know, but I think I passed out again when we were over the arch.”
Australia nodded. “Yeah, the thing was, like, wiggling and stretching through my lenses. I got a headache just looking at it through them, but when I took ‘em off, it just went away.”
“Huh.”
“I might be crazy, but I think it’s the arch.”
“But if it’s the arch, why were only the two of us affected?”
“Good question.”
We sat there in silence, thinking about why the arch would give an adverse reaction to the two of us specifically.
“Oh,” Australia said, tapping her head like she’d just found out that the most obvious answer was, in fact, the right one.
“What?”
“I think it’s an Oculator thing.”
“Then why would I have passed out while you didn’t?”
“By the first sands, Smedry, isn’t it obvious?” Bastille’s voice came from behind me and I started. I’d forgotten she was there.
“Bastille, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are three different Smedrys in the room right now, so you’re gonna have to learn everyone’s first names at some point.”
“Shut up.”
“No.”
“Alcatraz…”
“What?”
Bastille then made a noise that sounded uncannily like a horse muffled into a pillow.
“Okay, what’s so obvious, then?”
“It’s because you’re so shattering powerful. I mean, have you ever seen Australia use Courier’s lenses from halfway across the country? On instinct?”
“Uh… no.”
Australia nodded. “Yeah, I can confirm I could NEVER.”
“Oh.”
*I know EXACTLY what a good number of the Hushlanders are probably thinking, and you’re thinking of the wrong fast food chain. Go smell some grass, or whatever it is the Hushlands kids say nowadays.
#I am never writing a sickfic from first person pov again#my writing#alcatraz vs the evil librarians#MOTHER HEN SING RIGHTS#Alcatraz Smedry#Australia Smedry#Kazan Smedry#sing sing Smedry#mentioned Leavenworth Smedry#mentioned Attica Smedry
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❓📱👥
❓- What question isn’t on this list but you wish it was? What is your answer to it?
Answer: Hmm… this is kind of tough. I guess I think a good question would be : What is one stereotype of autism that you defy/doesn’t apply to you?
I think this is a good question, because although it is becoming more and more well known that there is not such thing as one type of Autistic person, there are still a-lot of stereotypes out there. Not all of them are negative, but they are stereotypes nonetheless.
As for my answer, I would say that the stereotype of Autisic people being exceptional with math and numbers does not apply to me. Although I can do basic math fairly well (same goes for geometry), I am by no means a math person. I thrive on words- writing essays, creating stories (and of course comics). I can’t stand math. I understand the whole appeal of logic (which yes, I agree is nice. 2 + 2 always equally 4 is lovely), but once you start getting into algebra, you lose me. Maybe that’s why I enjoy geometry. It’s about explaining the math through words (also shapes, which as an artist I understand), rather than simply finding i to the first power (ew).
📱- Giving as much or as little detail as you’re comfortable with, what sort of accommodations and support do you need?
Answer: Oof, this one’s tough too (mainly because I am not entirely sure what counts as support). Starting off with accommodations, I need gloves. Almost every time I touch some sort of food (cheese in particular), I need to be wearing some sort of gloves. I also typically need to be able to wear headphones in spaces with too much noise. I don’t have noise cancelling ones, so I will typically turn on music in an attempt to drown out the other noises. Without headphones, I can get by covering my ears, but can only take so much before it becomes too much. Thankfully, my current job (despite being ridiculously noisy) allows me to listen to music whilst I work, so this hasn’t been too much of an issue yet.
I would say I mainly need support socially. As I mentioned previously, I need people to be okay clarifying if they are joking or sarcastic sometimes, and need them not to get upset if I take something literally (ex: Only bringing two of something when someone asked for a couple. Because couple = two. I have to constantly remind myself that when someone says a couple of something, they typically mean more than two).
I also have a very hard time telling when people are taking advantage of/making fun of me, so having someone be willing to let me know when that is occurring is always nice. I have had people tell others to leave me alone on my behalf, as I was unknowingly allowing them to mock me to my face.
Sorry if I didn’t answer this question correctly. I honestly don’t know what counts and doesn’t count as support/accommodations, as I was never really offered any growing up. I just had to find ways to “deal with it”, which usually involved me simply avoiding the things that bothered me.
👥- Do you feel like you are part of the autistic community on Tumblr?
Answer: I don’t know? I mean… I would like to think I make people in the Autistic community happy with my comics and such, but in reality, I don’t interact with others in the community that much (aside from answering asks). This is a secondary blog, so I don’t really have the ability to interact with people without sharing my main blog’s url (which I don’t think I can do atm). So I guess I’m not? I don’t really know TBH (no pun intended).
Thank you for the ask!
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Banter Masterlist
Accepting Publicity (ao3) - xmypandabear pepper/tony G, 4k
Summary: "Pro tip: saying it's nothing only makes someone more curious," he leant his hip against the nearby table, mind already doing the math and coming to an unsettling conclusion. "Kid, don't tell me you were at the 2010 Expo."
The kid opened his mouth, shut it, then said, "Is this like the whole, 'don't do anything I would and wouldn't do' or...?"
"Jesus."
//
The one where Tony doesn't believe he's a hero and can't handle having it thrown in his face, Pepper is Tony's Big Damn Hero and Peter is asked to help start Iron-Man's social media accounts (and is probably a hero, but that's irrelevant right now).
Bless this Ink and Our Souls (ao3) - Akira_of_the_Twilight bucky/clint/steve/tony T, 5k
Summary: Steve and Tony venture to Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law to bless the ink that they will need for their protection spell.
Things get heated between Steve and Tony, and Matt Murdock reveals a secret of Tony's that leaves Steve stunned.
Clint Barton or, Why Hawkeye Should Be Renamed Captain Sexy Pants (ao3) - QuirkyChick clint/phil, steve/tony G, 1k
Summary: For the Avenger Kink Meme on LJ.
“Clint is voted sexiest man alive in some trashy woman’s magazine. The team proceeds to mock him mercilessly.”
Come on Closer (ao3) - Epiphanyx7 steve/tony E, 4k
Summary: [[... porn.]]
Or, the one where Steve wants to talk to Tony about something important.
Fighting, Flyting, Flaunting, Flirting (ao3) - Redring91 loki/tony M, 9k
Summary: -
“What’s flyting?”
“Tis a form of verbal battle performed in the courts of Asgard, where opponents trade insults in verse.” Thor explains.
“Offensive poetry?” Tony clarifies, because that sounds awesome.
Thor nods. “Loki was by far the best skilled at it – it was not for nothing he came to be known as Silvertongue. He ceased competing in official matches after a time though. He deemed there were none on Asgard who could claim to be a worthy match for his attentions.” Thor levels a thoughtful look towards Tony at this.
“So, you’re saying that Tony derailed the fight because Loki enjoys it when they’re insulting each other?” Clint says slowly.
Thor gives a rather helpless shrug. “Loki has always enjoyed flyting.”
-
hand over your heart (ao3) - cherryvanilla clint/phil, steve/tony M, 7k
Summary: If a top secret file on Phil Coulson and Clint Barton's relationship existed, it would look something like this.
NOT Just Married (ao3) - relenafanel steve/bucky M, 7k
Summary: Also known as the feel-good fluffy ficlet relenafanel promised after the end-credit scene of new Bucky feels from hell... Because I have your back and know you need recovery comedic AUs about BFFs being dumb in Vegas.
Stuck With You (Seriously?) (ao3) - Jaune_Chat steve/tony E, 2k
Summary: Steve and Tony are drugged, captured, and wake up in a very compromising position. There's really only one way out. Sex.
In other news, Tony thinks the Avengers need better villains. ;)
This Wasn't What the Brochure Promised (ao3) - kahn steve/tony T, 7k
Summary: "Do you think this is still a training exercise, or did we just get our asses handed to us by actual bad guys?" asked Clint.
Tony, Steve, Clint and Bruce spend quality time together in a cave. Tony does not build another arc reactor (even if he sort of needs one). Steve is all Protective Leader. Clint is terrifyingly good with a knife. Bruce bleeds and snarks. There is banter and embarassing amounts of schmoop and the boys get very touchy-feely.
Three Men in a VW (ao3) - Brokenpitchpipe steve/bucky T, 3k
Summary: Steve steps back into the car and closes the door, lips still tingling.
“You don’t like blondes,” Bucky says.
Sam chokes.
Who we are (ao3) - reclusiveq steve/bucky G, 3k
Summary: When Bucky comes home beat up, Steve is left to wonder why. His search for an answer will reveal a truth his friend may not be ready to share.
you and your high top sneakers and your sailor tattoos (ao3) - victoria_p (musesfool) darcy/steve M, 5k
Summary: In which Darcy Lewis punches Captain America's v-card. Yeah, she can't believe it either.
You're My World (ao3) - Teddy1008 sam/bucky E, 6k
Summary: “I… oh, I get it now.” Sam tilted his head, perceptive as ever, goddammit. “All this flirting with my sister, that was just to get my attention, wasn’t it? I know it was. Say it.”
“That wasn’t—” Bucky croaked, but Sam wasn’t having it.
He huffed a low laugh, and bulldozed right through Bucky’s feeble pretense. “You like it when I pin you against the wall? Take away all that power you have, that strength that your arm gives you? Make you feel small, maybe?”
your will is not your own (ao3) - Merideath darcy/steve E, 6k
Summary: Agent Lewis is sent to collect Captain Rogers from the wilds of Alaska. A snowstorm is brewing and Darcy's ride abandons them to the elements... or a tiny log cabin. She's pretty sure she watched that movie. It didn't end well.
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I can’t believe I’m having to clarify my opinions on the internet, but to be fair, it’s my own fault for posting something on the internet without an adequate literary analysis of my own statements (just joking btw — it’s totally valid for you to want to start a conversation, and thank you for at least trying to be polite about it. I hope you can forgive me if I sound a bit insulted that you would assume I'm the type of person you seem to be talking to.)
I guess for starters, I’ll clarify that the image is not a screenshot of someone else’s post (I’m guessing screenshot is what you meant by “print?”). It is an image I made from scratch.
I chose not to use a screenshot specifically because I had no intention of mocking the poster or their post, so I wanted to make sure that in case they actually saw this post, they wouldn’t feel mocked or misunderstood, and the post couldn’t be linked back to them by others either.
The poster is not intended to be the butt of the joke: I am the butt of the joke. I can understand how that might have been unclear to you, but allow me to elaborate.
Storytime: I was so sleep deprived that when I saw the phrase “Kyoya’s wife,” I literally squinted at it like a math problem that I was too stupid to understand lmao, but I was genuinely trying really hard to figure out what I was looking at. Once I realized why I was confused, I found it funny that I got so genuinely disoriented over something so obvious (aka: “oh! this person obviously interprets the character according to the literal canon, and I’m actually the weird one for being confused about that lol”). I made a meme about it (still sleep deprived) as if it was a grammatical diagram that I was solving incorrectly, and then I posted it with a caption that framed myself as genuinely confused about something that the intended viewer would find obvious, therefore making me look silly for not understanding such an obvious thing. I don’t really get much interaction on my posts (which is ideal for me because I only post for my own entertainment and have horrible social anxiety rip), and if anyone does respond, they’re usually another gay person, so I thought it was safe to assume that either no one would see this post or only like one gay person on the other side of the world who’s familiar with the well-known queer reading of OHSHC might maybe see it. I also thought this fandom was pretty dead and therefore safer to interact with, especially considering that the only posts I’ve seen about it (aside from the one mentioned in the original post) have been riffs on the queer reading, so I figured the chances of het discourse finding me was pretty small (In hindsight, I should have just left #ohshc out of the tags and used ship tags instead to ensure it wouldn’t land on an audience primed for misinterpretation, but I don’t like reducing characters to ships so I didn’t want to do that. Guess I learned my lesson lol). But just in case it ended up on the straight side of the internet, I made sure to include a disclaimer in the original tags of the post anyways. Here’s the original tags:
If you saw these tags and still misunderstood, I apologize that my phrasing was unclear. Please note the emphasis I placed on Kyoya being gay in my brain, and that other people are allowed to interpret him differently, and that the joke is about me being confused over a misunderstanding rather than anything having to do with the original poster being somehow wrong or bad.
For the sake of clarity: I support people interpreting fictional characters according to the literal canon of the source material. (If this even needs clarifying? Though, in all fairness, you don’t know me, so it’s understandable that you would read me as potentially hostile even though it’s not true.) It is not wrong when people interpret characters as they are explicitly written, that’s literally what you’re expected to do, there’s no reason I would have a problem with that. I am the weird one for interpreting Kyoya differently, that’s part of the punch line. So, on top of that, no, I do not think my interpretation of his sexuality is “more valid” than anyone else’s, because that would be a stupid opinion for me to have.
You were not the target audience, so it makes sense that you lack the context for this. Something you might not be aware of is that, as mentioned above, OHSHC has a very longstanding queer reading that is well-established and well-loved as an alternate interpretation of the source material, (also fun fact: Kyoya himself contains several references to queer media, and shojo in general is historically exploratory of queer themes and characters both implicitly and explicitly, which is something female writers were able to start really getting away with in the 70s due to sexism in the industry leading to looser regulation — It’s all very interesting!), so I’m not coming out of left field with this. But that’s a subcultural thing, and while it’s important to me and many people like me, it obviously doesn’t have to be important to you or anyone else. There is obviously nothing wrong with reading the words “Kyoya has a wife” in the canon text and then concluding that Kyoya must, therefore, have a wife. It would be ridiculous to suggest otherwise, just as it would be ridiculous to suggest that people are not allowed to interpret it any other way, so I’m glad to hear that you also have nothing wrong with people having head canons different from yours. So glad we can both agree that that would be incredibly stupid.
Side note: I scrolled through like 5 of your recent posts just to make sure I didn’t misunderstand where you’re coming from. Looking through that, it’s especially easy to see why you may have assumed that I was pretentiously implying some broader moral truth that “Kyoya must be interpreted as gay and everyone else is wrong” (which is, again, obviously not true). So allow me to share some things we have in common:
I don’t really do shipping either. Nor do I have any problem with other people shipping. I have no problem with characters not having canon labels for sexuality or gender (I enjoy it actually - I don’t even like using labels for myself, but I use them anyway because people on the internet don’t like it when you don’t explain yourself). In fact, as an ace person (<— label), I agree that, although I have no problem with people shipping in general, shipping culture can go too far when heavily plays into allo- and amatonormativity by reducing characters to how useful they are in a ship. I have no interest in policing you or anyone else how a fictional character should or shouldn’t be interpreted, and I also find it ridiculous and annoying when other people try to do that too.
I know this is long so I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t read any of it, but assuming you did, I hope that cleared up where you misunderstood? I was making fun of myself, not anyone else. I’ve been told I’m bad with words, so I tried my best to be clear, but apologies if it just came out as an incoherent mess. Also sorry this is so long (I feel kind of ridiculous talking about something so trivial in length). I just hate misunderstandings so so much and really do not want to have to revisit this with another attempt at explaining so I’m trying to be thorough.
(I considered rewriting this to be shorter but I am still very sleep deprived and cannot put off going to bed any longer than i already have. I have no doubt this response is possibly the cringiest and most incoherent thing i’ve ever written, please forgive me)
Hey does anyone have any idea what this phrase I saw on my dash is supposed to mean? I broke down the grammar and everything but I’m still confused :/
#and that’s 4 hours of writing and proofreading I’ll never get back :’)#‘‘but ghosti you literally didn’t have to spend that much time on this’’#‘’you could have just ignored it even’’ ah but you see when i was a child my mother treated me like a liar so im scared no one will believ-#*chokes*#god what is in my throat-#*coughs up a folded piece of paper*#wh- what’s this? *unfolds it* a trauma card? lol i’m not gonna play that — what is this this„ tumblr? *laugh track plays in the background*#its not like anything i say will matter anyway lol. ppl love reading callouts and confrontations but clarifications are too boring to read#and me obsessively repeating the same point over and over again only makes it even more boring to read and more likely to be skimmed at bes#which makes further misinterpretation practically inevitable at some point even if it's not here#oh what's that? is that the “person overly-paranoid about being perceived on the internet or at all” alarm? wonder who that could be about#long post#text post#kinda#not vent
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i’ve sort of debated whether i wanted to hit post on this and despite the fact that i have clearly now done it: i am honestly still internally unsure!
i am painfully aware that the target audience for this message is more likely to roll their eyes about ‘woke fandom’, ignore my actual point, and get back to creating alternate histories surrounding why they’d prefer one of ed’s ancestors floating alone on a raft to wherever the fuck, instead, because for them: this isn’t emotional. this is fun.
but this was part of what i really wanted to say in that ask about “hey, stop saying māori. honestly if you just stop pointing out these things entirely and shut up about race unless you talk about it in ways that make me feel good that would work out great for me” the other week, and it will not leave me mentally alone until i do it.
(which, again: that was what the ask actually said. exact wording being the thing that defeats unintentional racism is a weird reverse uno card that gets played a lot in these situations, so to be clear that was not the verbatim word choice. however, asking people to stop referring to ed as māori leads to the question: what do you want me to call him? because we all seem to agree: ed is not a white man.
so what then? you want me to say ‘brown’ and leave it there? ‘i guess some sort of polynesian?’ or, given the strange insistence on race blindness here, is the goal to get everybody to pretend race doesn’t factor into social dynamics? because unfortunately, that’s a thing only white people get to do. not because the rest of us don’t want to— but because the world will not let us.)
i’m not māori and ed’s story is so culturally specific and influenced by that history that pretending i can do anything but see an echo of myself in him would be silly, at best: but i do have that echo.
i’m from the united states, where we also have a long and lovely history of genocide both literal and cultural towards our indigenous populations.
it’s the cultural part that gets me really fucked up on a personal level v a justice one, when i see the shadows of myself reflected in this adjacent lane. white people stealing indigenous kids and raising them to be nothing but white is not just a part of my ancestral history; it’s how i got adopted.
when my birthmother started the process the race math was done, and it came up with: ooooh yeah, sorry. this one’s a little bit too much Not White, send ‘em through the tribal system, it’s the law.
and then some legal fuckery happened. for reasons i both don’t want to and don’t feel comfortable explaining further, a box saying ‘nope! just white!’ was checked on some paperwork: i went home with a white couple.
i have known all my life two things, because i was told them over and over:
- that i am so not white, it took a crime to bring me home
- and that since they did that, all i am is white.
(i grew up when the us was OBSESSED with the idea of being a melting pot, and my mom used to like to tell a story about how when i was young, people would come up to her in public all the time and ask ‘what i was’. apparently i wore my soul a lot more clearly on my face those days and now, i pass so well white people like to say “no! but look at you! you’re just white!” when i clarify the particulars here.
so, so very many white people often wanna tell me i am also white in the same way they are, very very much. and from white people who i thought didn’t roll like that, too! they’ve got a great-grandma who is 1/4 cherokee they tell me— why always cherokee i want to ask, but never do? i’m not cherokee, do you not know any other tribe names orrrr???— and it never stops blowing my mind.
anyway, the punchline to my mom’s story about people asking her what mixed race baby shop she found me in was her saying: ‘they’re my CHILD, THE END THAT IS ALL THAT MATTERS’ because in this story, she was a hero. this was not a story about gross racists. this was a story about how evolved she was for knowing my heritage didn’t actually matter.
when i say this show helps me handle the tension i feel, trying to urge well-meaning white people to Get With It, i so often mean ‘i want to love my family and be honest at the same time, this is so fucking hard what do i do and where are my people???????? i feel like maybe they’re not here’.)
so i get it: for white fans, this is Just Intellectual. they’re focused on the dates and times, and as far as they’re concerned the ravages of empire are a thought experiment; for me and many others, this is what made us who we are.
seeing ed, a māori man with a mother who believed the lies the world told her and a white father who didn’t see the problem with any of this means a whole fucking lot to me. (and oh lord! don’t even get me started on why his dynamic with izzy is partially so fascinating to me because i can see myself in them both, depending on how i split my life experience between emotional realities and systemic advantages.) this show is the thing that’s gotten me to fucking ask myself “can i... even say i’m white passing? is that me lying, or is that me decolonizing my own fucking brain?”
(my therapist: also very thankful. she keeps joking about sending the creative staff fruit baskets.)
so yeah anyway. this is just an emotional attempt to explain why the ed thing sucks from my adjacent lane, no big conclusion except:
i honestly don’t even care if white fans think i’m right? i just wish they would consider the deeper implications of the refusal to accept ed could be māori, and what it does to those of us who see ourselves in this show not simply because it’s Gay Pirates, but because it’s Intersectional Pirates.
#SO YEAH.#still feel a little weird about being this open but hell#i have said bits of this in the comments might as well
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ABO Stony AUs! (Part 2)
As promised, here is part 2! [link to Part 1] I’m not sure if I’m gonna make part 3 but there are still a bit ABO fics left.
A King For Christmas by iam93percentstardust
Summary: In 1867, Tony Stark flees New York after refusing to marry the alpha his parents chose for him. His money runs out in the small kingdom of Dacia, ruled over by King Steven of the Rogers line. Somehow, and he’s not entirely sure how, he ends up accepting the position of nanny to the king’s four children: Harley, Peter, Sarah, and Morgan.
Tony bonds with the children easily but their father is harder to get to know. Steve is still grieving his wife’s death four years earlier. His continued mourning has turned the once bright halls into dark and somber shadows of their former glory. Tony isn’t entirely certain what he can do but he knows that he has to do something or else the whole country, so attuned to their leader, will sink into despair. He begins by reconciling the king with his young children.
Meanwhile, the children have decided that it’s high time their father fall in love again—and Tony is the obvious choice. They concoct elaborate plans to force the two together, hardly realizing that Steve and Tony are falling in love, not through their shenanigans but through the quiet moments they share bonding over the love they have for the children.
What, Like It’s Hard? by JehBeeEh
Summary: Omega Tony Stark has it all, until his alpha boyfriend breaks his heart. In an effort to win him back, he follows the alpha of his dreams to Harvard Law School, where he discovers there might be more to being the first omega at the prestigious school. He also meets another alpha that might just make him forget the one he drove across the country for.
Two-Point Perspective by FestiveFerret for sabrecmc
Dear omega,
Congratulations! You've been selected. Alpha #95847872 has been assigned as your pre-bondee. A group bonding ceremony will take place on the 14th, unless other arrangements have been made by your alpha or their family. A valid bonding license must be submitted to Omega Services within 45 days of this letter or all services will be cancelled and any transferable benefits will not be applied to your alpha's package.
If there is some reason why you cannot be bonded on this date, please apply for an extension by calling 1-800-555-6827 within 7 days of receiving this letter.
Sincerely, National Omega Services
I Love You (From the Bottom to the Top) by RomancebyFaye for Reioka
Summary: Steve and Tony have a great relationship. They may have only been dating for a few months, but the truth is, they had been in love for years before that. Their relationship is only getting better from adding this new intimacy and Steve is very satisfied with how open Tony is in the bedroom. He’s giving and generous, sometimes to a fault, just as he is with everything.
And then Steve comes home early and catches sight of something he wasn’t meant to see. The shock he gets from the sight of watching his alpha ride a toy might not have been meant for him, but it doesn't stop him from wanting.
Now, if he can just figure out how to tell Tony how much he wants what he witnessed without putting his foot in his mouth…
Or Tony offers Steve something in the bedroom and Steve misunderstands the offer.
Until he doesn’t.
A Prime, Divided by avengersasssemble
Summary: Facing his and his infant son's possible death sentence, young prince Tony runs away to the only place where his father would dare not follow: the Northern Territories, known to house the most savage and brutal Alphas--including their bloodthirsty leader, the Prime Alpha. Forced to navigate fatherhood and diplomacy while being unable to speak the Northern language, Tony has to make decisions to save his son, even at his own expense.
Oversight by ShyOwl
Summary: It really wasn’t Steve’s fault that no one knew he was an omega.
I Love You 3000 by NazakiSama166
Summary: After the death of his husband, the only thing Steven Rogers could think of was going on and dying in one of his missions, and Steven was happy to get his wish.... that was until he woke up in a strange universe when people can shift into wolves and men can get pregnant... Oh, and did he mention that Tony was there too and was in love with his younger jackass self? And let's not forget about Peggy...
Life just loves to mess with him...
Dear Enemy by AvengersNewB
Summary: Alpha Steve and omega Tony are SHIELD agents who don't always see eye to eye, but some benefits on the side help them work things out in the most non-traditional way. Steve's jealousy after an unfortunate encounter with Ty Stone, however, makes things complicated.
Love Match by FestiveFerret
Summary: Tony had but one goal for the season: secure a marriage proposal from an alpha with the position and means enough to remove him from his father's house. Love was wholly irrelevant to the matter.
Stuck in a... by Annie D (scaramouche)
Summary: Steve gets into a serum-enhanced rut. Tony figures that there’d be a long list of people who’d volunteer to help Steve out, but there’s only one person Steve wants.
A Late-Night Snacks, and Other Good Ideas by Annie D (scaramouche)
Summary: Steve's heightened senses means that he always knows when Tony's in heat. One night, he finally does something about it.
citrus and lavender by JehBeeEh
Summary: Steve laid Tony on his bed as delicately as he could manage. Which was ridiculous because he knew, logically, that Tony was absolutely fine. JARVIS himself had told him. And that’s 100% why he had fought Natasha so hard on Tony not needing to go to medical when they came back, even though he probably could use the check up. Yup. That was definitely the only reason he had insisted on bringing Tony back to the penthouse. No other reason at all. If you keep this up, you just might start believing it, he thought to himself ruefully. Tony wasn’t his. He had made it very clear that he didn’t need some alpha in his life to mess with everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish. Especially not Steve Rogers.
Found Love in a Hopeless Place by crispybacon
Summary: Steve really, really did not want to tag along with his brother to the bar, no matter how many times the jerk nagged him that he needed to get laid. Just because Bucky’s known his Omega since kindergarten, and the pair have loud obnoxious sex in their shared small two bedroom apartment, didn’t mean Steve needed to stick his knot in any Omega that looks his way.
That’s not the kind of Alpha Steve was.
Or, Steve goes to a bar and meets an Omega with a complicated past that changes his life forever.
This is Not a Drill by sabrecmc
Summary: “Can I—can I see him? I mean meet him. Uh…welcome him to the team?” Tony clarified, probably not very well, he knew.
“Well…there’s a bit of an issue with that,” Fury said, and Tony figured this was where Fury got to whatever it was that had really forced his hand and made him call Tony in, knowing how much the man detested having to do so. “You see, well. He was suspended in the ice for nearly seventy years,” Fury began. Tony nodded along, because he could do math.
“I’m sure he has a lot of adjusting to do—“ Tony started.
“Seventy years,” Fury repeated, cutting Tony off and leaning back in his chair and making it rock slightly. “Of no suppressants.”
“Oh,” Tony managed to choke out past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Oh.”
Everybody's got a hungry heart. by Perlmutt for ShadowsintheClouds
Summary: Tony Stark has never experienced a true heat due to the suppressants he's taking on a daily basis. Society accepts him as a beta, together with his friends and teammates and the alpha he's secretly in love with. But some things are just too big to be kept hidden forever. An unfortunate turn of events forces Tony to reveal his biggest secret to the world...
Baby, Just Say Yes by betheflame for starksnack
Summary: In a world where Tony's life looks a lot like Taylor Swift's, Steve realizes there always more to omegas than meets the eye.
Apple Pie and Sunshine by betheflame, starksnack
Summary: Even though they've loved each other for years, Steve and Tony have each convinced themselves that their one-night-stand was a fluke. Thing is, it also resulted in Tony getting pregnant and as the birth approaches, perhaps it's time to use their words.
blue since the day we parted by funkyspacegirlfriend
Summary: When he's twenty, the man Tony thinks will be his alpha and mate walks away, leaving Tony with a gift he'll never regret.
The same alpha reappears fifteen years later in the form of SI's new military liaison.
In my Favorite Dreams (I feel your heat) by Corsets_and_Cardigans for wingheads
Summary: Steve is on his morning run in DC when a ghost from his past comes back into his life. And he's not alone. *** “Steve?” Sam’s voice cut through the veil of the past, the crushing weight of memory that stole his breath. “What’s wrong, buddy?”
His staring must have finally alerted another parent, a woman eyeing him warily while tugging on Tony’s sleeve until he turned around. His eyes were just as expressive and wide as they were ten years ago, piercing the cold morning air straight to Steve’s own.
“Tony.”
“Wait. Tony Tony? The Tony? The Tony that Bucky busts your chops over Tony?”
His voice cracked, wrent into pieces at seeing his omega who wasn’t his anymore, body flaring in pain. Years worth of aching denial like a hot fireplace poker to his soul. “Yeah.”
“Okay then, who’s the kid?”
The Couch by Perlmutt
Summary: Steve overstepped a mark, when he accidentally called Tony, his mate, tiny. Because his omega was very self-conscious when it came to his height. So he needed to show him that he thought Tony's perfect just the way he was, if he didn't want to sleep on the couch for the next week. Luckily Steve was the man with a plan...
be the summer in my heart by billyscissors
Summary: After Obadiah betrays the Southern Isles, he offers Omega Prince Anthony Stark as tribute to appease the Warlord of the North
#stony#stony fics#stony fanfic#steve and tony#stevetony#stevetony fanfic#stevetony fic rec#stevetony fic#stony fic#SUPERHUSBANDS#fic rec
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Kobik - Chapter II
Bucky x Reader
Fluff/Angst
Chapter summary: You and Bucky begin to face your new reality.
Chapter 1
“Sam was right. You do have a staring problem,” was the first thing said between the two of you after you broke the news almost 5 minutes ago.
His face was still white even after sitting down. You sat across from him, you both being in the same spots that you were in before your outburst.
Out of all of the ways that you had imagined telling him would be like, this wasn’t anything close to any of your scenarios. Granted, the reaction itself was pretty on par with what you expected.
“When were you going to tell me?” he asked still in a trance. His eyes continued to dart from the ground to your stomach back and forth.
“I found out a couple of hours before you left. I didn’t want to freak you out before—”
“And how long did you plan on keeping this from me?”
“Really? That’s your first thought?” you snapped.
“Yeah,” he retorted.
“Well maybe I was just waiting for the right time, but obviously things don’t always go as planned!”
You and Bucky had never planned to have kids. The mere idea of it scared the hell out of you guys. So for the most part, you were pretty careful.
“How did this even happen?”
You leaned forward and looked him dead in the eyes.
“Bucky,” you said.
“I’ll give you one guess.”
He shook his head.
“You know what I mean.”
Suddenly a little voice crept up on you startling the both of you for a second.
“Is everything okay?”
Bucky was the first one to look at her, and you couldn’t help but notice the softening of his features; especially in his eyes.
“Yeah. Everything’s fine, kid. We’re just talking,” he said in a comforting tone.
She frowned suspiciously as though she wasn’t convinced, but she let it go.
You thought that seeing her after Bucky told you about her whole history would have made you even more afraid of her. But looking at her now, you saw the innocence in her that Bucky was so adamant about convincing you that she had. Honestly, she was kind of adorable once you got used to some of her unnatural features.
You turned your gaze back over to the house where Sam was standing at the doorway. You wondered if he heard anything from your intense conversation.
“Are you guys done with your little moment or not?” Sam shouted.
You looked over at Bucky whose eyes were still on Kobik with a nervous expression. You realized that once again you had almost completely forgotten the whole point of your little argument, and now he was struggling with what you told him and what to do with Kobik. Now you kind of hated yourself for doing all this to him.
So you did what you now felt you had to do and let out a big sigh.
“I don’t have a car seat.”
Bucky’s face looked a little confused.
“And I guess she’s tiny enough to sleep on our giant couch,” you continued. Now he was understanding.
“But I swear if there’s a moment where we’re in any type of danger—”
“Y/N, I would never—”
“I know.”
You knew that he wasn’t lying. One thing that you always trust was that he would do anything to protect you; even when you didn’t always trust his judgement with some of his risky/impulsive decisions. But him protecting you from bad people was how you two had met in the first place.
“Hooray!” she exclaimed jumping into Bucky’s arms. Something that would be seemingly normal for a child of her perceived age; except for the fact that she jumped from an impossibly far distance, and seemed to float slowly as she went down to wrap her own arms around his shoulder. Almost like there was an invisible parachute over her.
This was going to be interesting.
…
In the hours since Kobik had come home with the two of you, there was no denying that you were avoiding her. You felt a little bit guilty about it, but it wasn’t hard to tell that she was kind of avoiding you too. You couldn’t blame her, you didn’t exactly react in the best way in your initial interaction.
You checked the time on your computer. 7:00. You hadn’t realized how long you had holed yourself up in your office under the guise of catching up on emails. In all fairness when he saw how anxious you started getting when she began exploring the apartment, Bucky did suggest that you go rest or something said that he would handle her. Whatever that meant. You also had to admit to yourself that Kobik wasn’t the only one you were avoiding. You and Bucky were incredibly tense after your outburst, and you haven’t had space or time to talk about it yet.
When you walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water you could see Bucky sitting in the living room with Kobik on his lap.
He was reading her a story from his iPad. It was what you remembered to be an excerpt of a story from his favourite book of short stories. She looked calm, and honestly quite comfortable. In fact, she was in the midst of falling asleep. Your heart might have melted if you weren’t so freaked out about the thought of her having some type of trauma-induced nightmare and burning a hole through the ceiling or something crazy like that in her sleep.
You decided to shake that thought and walked over to the bedroom to let yourself collapse onto the bed. And yet, when you got there you could not let yourself relax. All you could do was lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling wishing that you could feel numb inside instead of feeling everything else it was that you were feeling weighing down on you.
Not too much later you felt Bucky sit down on the bed right next to you. With that, you began to feel something along the lines of dread. You knew that this was the moment where you’d have to face whatever new reality you both had looming over you. The short-term ones, and the long-term ones.
After you sat up you both stared at each other not knowing where to start.
Finally, you decided to talk first.
“So how long do you think this is going to go on for?”
“Not too long,” he stated.
“We just need to find out who it is trying to find her and why. We have a few people looking into it now.”
“And then what?”
He let out a slow tired sigh and shrugged.
“After that, we just need to figure out who with and/or where she’ll be able to live with long term.”
You nodded, feeling a little relieved that he wasn’t going to try to convince you to keep her forever.
“Speaking of long term.”
‘Oh great,’ you thought.
“Yeah,” was all that you could say looking down at your still flat belly. You were still too scared to touch it like there was something or rather someone actually in there.
“How long?” he asked.
“I already told you how long I’ve known.”
“I mean how far along?” he clarified.
You suddenly thought about how cuddling with the tiny humanoid weapon in your living room might be more fun than having to go through this conversation.
“I mean I haven’t really gone to the doctor yet,” you stated.
“But if I did that math right…about 2 months.”
He didn’t say anything. Or rather, couldn’t say anything; which did nothing but succeed in driving you mad.
“Again with the long pauses?” you snapped.
“Y/N…”
But one look into your pleading, probably now red and puffy eyes made him stop.
And that was the moment when you began to cry. Days upon days’ worth of tears fell down your cheeks as sobs wracked your body. So instead of saying anything yet, he just held you. He wrapped his arms around you and rocked you side to side until you were finally able to calm down again.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly against the top of your head.
You furrowed your brows and looked up to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry about how…terribly I’m reacting to this.”
You weren’t sure why but you suddenly felt a little laugh bubble over you, but you held back.
“If it makes you feel any better,” you sniffled.
“I immediately threw up, and then cried for three days straight. So I think I win.”
He let out a light chuckle before his eyes began to glaze over as he sunk deep into his thoughts.
You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze bringing him back to earth grateful that you were finally being the calmer one in this situation.
“We’re gonna figure this out,” you said giving him a soft smile.
“Yeah?” he responded wearily, returning the reassuring squeeze.
You shrugged.
“I mean we haven’t really been left with much of a choice now have we?”
He kissed you on the top of your head and sighed lightheartedly.
“No, I guess not.”
He turned to lay down with his head on his pillow and pulled you to lay comfortably in front of him.
“You know I love you no matter what, right?” he whispered while carefully resting his hand on your belly. And now you wanted to cry again. But instead of crying, you assured him,
“Always.”
You laid there for a while in silence but in peace. Also, you were exhausted. You both were. No matter how anxious you two might have been, it was one of those days where you would definitely not be fighting sleep. So as sleep came, you let it. You let it take you away into blissful oblivion.
But moments after you found yourself properly asleep, you were suddenly awoken by a child-like scream followed by a loud bang.
Kobik.
...
Thanks to all of you for all of the love I got for chapter 1. I'm pretty excited for the next few chapters. I hope you enjoyed.
Tagged:
@typicalnerd98 @veroxloki @white-wolf-buckaroo @closeyoureyes---makeawish @acciosiriusblack @pastel-boy-sungjae
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x reader fluff#bucky x reader angst#dad!bucky#dad!bucky x reader#kobik#kobik x reader x bucky#kobik x bucky#thunderbolts#avengers#marvel#captain america#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#falcon#sam wilson
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Wings in the Dark Chapter 10: Reparations
AN: Yaaaaaayyyyy I got this one done. For some reason I’ve been in a weird spot where I write more on my phone and my focus is better when I write on my phone, but I’m also super vulnerable to typos because AUTOCORRECT and its just harder for me to spot on the smaller screen with the tiny text, so excuse any typos.
Characters: Levi, Fem!Vampire!Reader, Erwin, Petra, Oluo (Mentioned), Eld (Mentioned)
Pairing: (Eventual) Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader
Warnings: Language. Ikr, we just got super tame after a wiiild ride.
Word Count: 5124
<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->
*Levi’s POV*
“I’ll admit, it would have been nice to know ahead of time that you were going to hijack the interrogation like that to antagonize her.”
Levi ignored the pointed jab at his actions down in the dungeons, gaze instead roaming around and taking stock of the people they past in a surveillance instinct too ingrained into his being by now for him to shut it off even going down the street towards a tea shop.
Considering L/N could hear so far out, even when she wasn’t paying attention, Erwin and Levi had decided to leave headquarters entirely to have this conversation. Which was why they were now headed for a tea shop instead of Erwin’s office to discuss something so confidential. Or at least their opinions on the situation, not necessarily the information itself.
"Did you at least get what you wanted out of it?" Erwin asked as they took seats at one of the outside tables.
"I did. Mostly. You?"
"I was skeptical when you told me, but after that little display of hers, she's clearly not human. Not anymore." Erwin leaned back in his seat and appraised Levi, their conversation pausing momentarily as they placed their order with the waitress that came outside to check on them. Once she went back inside, Erwin continued. "If you have more questions, why didn't you ask them before we left?"
"It had nothing to do with why we were there. Personal curiosity. And it didn't seem like the time to ask."
Especially after he'd goaded her like that, making jabs at painful memories for her until she reacted, throwing harsh accusations at her semi-blindly and seeing if anything stuck. The last thing she would want to do would be to give clarifying details about her past traumas to satiate his curiosity.
Her tale made her origins make more sense, but there were a few details that still weren't so clear to him.
The way she explained it, she was attacked and turned by a vampire the night before--for reasons unknown, he noticed. She hadn't said why she was turned, or by who. She'd actually glossed over that part and moved on--and then went home, not knowing what happened to her, thinking she was sick. Her friend came to visit her, Y/N lost control, attacked and killed her, then fled. He was sure there were details to make the tale far more gruesome, but this was what he knew for sure without letting his imagination run wild.
But then she'd shown up dead a few days later as well. That was the part he was trying to figure out.
“Some deaths, okay, fine, I'll come back from it.”
So, she ran away after the initial panic, and then came back solely to fake her death so they wouldn't keep looking for her.
And by fake her death, she went for a...temporary death, something she would come back from.
But why go so far as to let herself be buried? It was a closed casket funeral, so she could have snuck out before they sealed the casket and no one would have known. Why wait?
He hadn't forgotten the fear and trauma in her eyes when she'd mentioned being buried alive was one of her deepest fears. And now the mental image in his mind of a woman clawing desperately at a coffin, screaming for help while no one could hear her had a face to go with it, the face of someone he knew, no less.
It was humanly impossible to break out of a grave and crawl your way out. But if you had vampire strength, and every time you suffocated from the lack of oxygen or the dirt crushing down on you and maybe even getting into your lungs...then it was possible. So long as you died a few times on the way up.
Shit...something like that had to do some damage to a person.
Not to mention what came after. Forty years living in the Underground, roughly. He'd only been down there a little over half the time she had. And he hadn't spent it like she had--skulking in the shadows killing people because what she was demanded she kill to survive no matter where she was, and she couldn't go above ground not because it was denied to her, but because if she did she would literally die. Yeah, he'd killed plenty of people in the Underground as well, but far less, and for a reason that was entirely different even if it could be worded the same. He killed in fights because the Underground was that dangerous, or he was protecting people he cared about. She had to actively hunt and kill people to...feed.
If she'd been in the Underground before he was even born...he wondered if they had ever crossed paths, and he just didn't remember.
Hell, with her criteria for who she hunted and killed, he was surprised she hadn't killed Kenny in all that time with him Underground.
Or maybe she had, after Kenny left. It wasn't like Levi would know. Though he was fairly certain the man had gone topside, which would mean out of her reach and away from her hunting grounds.
If only there was an alternative to her diet. She’d laid out why it couldn’t be helped, and he understood that, they were good reasons. But still, if there was another way...
“You're thinking about something rather hard over there, Levi,” Erwin commented, and Levi realized he’d been staring intently at the table and had even failed to notice that the waitress was in the process of delivering their tea. Erwin was also watching him, though his hands were still in motion, his analytical gaze fixated on Levi’s still form. Shaken out of his thoughts, Levi leaned back so he wasn’t leaning forward intently anymore, picking up his teacup to start drinking before it got cold. Erwin waited until the waitress left to continue talking. “Is it something I should know about her? Another hunch, maybe? The last one was mostly right.”
Levi snorted softly at that. Mostly right his ass. He’d been thinking murder and treason and assassinations, someone out to get them, someone seeking to harm people in the Scouts. Ulterior motives and selfishness, malice.
Maybe the murder hadn’t been that far off, considering her body count, if he did the math right in his head. And maybe she had been hiding a secret. Perhaps she was dangerous, but so was Levi. It didn’t mean she was an enemy.
“No,” he said curtly, putting an end to Erwin thinking Levi might be holding out on him regarding his suspicions after how off they’d both been about this situation. “Like I said, it doesn't have to do with whether or not she's trustworthy and if she should be in the Scouts. Just personal curiosity.”
“So you believe her? About her intentions?” Erwin asked casually before taking a sip from his cup, eyes cast down as he spoke but flickering up to gauge Levi’s reaction once he finished speaking.
Levi eyed him because of the look on his face, but answered nonetheless. “...I do. She was sincere down there, some would say too honest. Most people try to hide the fact they’ve killed hundreds--thousands--of people, or that they could kill the people who didn’t trust them without blinking an eye, but she was upfront about it. She didn’t have to be. She’s dangerous, that’s a reality no matter how you look at it, but she’s attempting to channel that into helping instead of just causing damage.” Levi sighed, setting down his cup. “I assumed a lot about her intentions and where she came from, and it's going to bite me in the ass.”
And he was probably going to have to put some effort into making amends after all this--especially with how he’d antagonized her down there and clearly crossed a boundary. Several boundaries, actually. And now that the moment had passed, the guilt was starting to settle in. He’d accused her about some harsh stuff, some of which she was sensitive about, given her reactions. She was the one who had to live with what she was, so he doubted someone going after the very things you might cling to in order to retain your humanity was something anyone would take kindly to. After she saved his life--even if it had also been her that had almost killed him to begin with--after she protected him from herself and other vampires, even if he wasn’t aware, after she’d gone out of her way to learn from and appease the entire squad, after going through years of training to get where she was now, after putting so much at risk when she could have stayed safely in the shadows, after trying so hard to find a place topside, he’d jabbed at pretty much everything. Her basic motives, her humanity, her intentions, her personality, everything.
He had a lot of damage control to do moving forward if they were going to keep working together. He sincerely hoped he’d only damaged the well and hadn’t poisoned the water. A damaged well he could fix, but a poisoned water supply…
Levi’s gaze narrowed at Erwin as he realized the other man still hadn’t said anything, his suspicions solidifying.
“What about you? Do you think she’s a risk you’re willing to take?” Levi asked, echoing her words from down in the dungeon Levi had immediately known would catch Erwin’s attention.
“I am a man who likes a good gamble,” Erwin said with a bittersweet smile, resting his cheek on his fist as he considered the situation before them. “As long as she’s not attacking other Scouts, she’s trying to keep her bloodlust under control, she’s not causing problems for or bringing more danger upon the Scouts...I don’t see why we shouldn’t let her stay. From the sounds of it, having a vampire willingly join our ranks wanting to use all those abilities to help our cause is a once in a lifetime chance. She’s offering it on a silver platter. As long as she can keep herself under control, which she’s been able to do so far, I say we take her up on her offer.”
“And if she can’t? If something happens and she loses control?” Levi asked, eyebrows raised. She’d said it herself, she was a threat, there was always a chance something could happen, and that shouldn’t be forgotten. But what would they do if she did slip up with no sign of being able to correct herself before it got out of hand?
“Then she’ll be our responsibility to take care of,” Erwin said evenly, gazing at Levi in a way that made him believe Levi would be the one to take care of her if she stepped out of line. He had the best chance, yes, but it would still be risky. “Hopefully we won’t have to kill her if anything goes wrong, she’s valuable, and it would be a huge setback to lose her vampire abilities...but if it ever comes to that…”
“It won’t be a problem,” Levi said flatly. He meant that in the matter of conflict of interest, not that killing her if it ever came to that wouldn’t be difficult.
Erwin nodded. “She stays in the Scouts, then. I’ll have to factor in all this new information about where best to put her. She probably shouldn’t be anywhere near medical, for her sanity’s sake. And Levi?” Levi fixed him with a stare as if to ask what the hell was up with his change of tone, which Erwin ignored. “Considering the strangling tension between the two of you down in the dungeon, are you going to ease up now that you have the story--for the most part--or do I need to switch her to a different squad?”
Levi scoffed. “I’m not going to apologize for being angry about the fact that she kills people, Erwin.”
“It's not like she has much of a choice, from the sound of it. And she’s doing rather well, given her situation. A lot of thought had to have gone into coming topside and joining the Scouts, how to pull it off. She was ready with those questions, and considering she wasn’t planning on us figuring out what she was, that means she already went over those questions herself. She’s going with what she believes to be the best route, and considering she’s more of an expert on the subject than we’ll probably ever be…”
Levi waved him off--he didn’t need this explanation, he already knew this. She wasn’t going to prey on innocent people, she couldn’t afford to downgrade her diet too much considering she needed to be in peak health and control fighting in the Scouts, and she couldn’t just stop unless she wanted to die a slow and agonizing death.
Starvation over decades, maybe even centuries…
Regular starvation was bad enough, he knew that from personal experience. He couldn’t imagine going out like that--he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Especially self-inflicted.
Levi’s gaze wandered to the few people in the street, moving idly from one person to the next, not really paying them any attention beyond basic people watching as he brought himself to his decision.
While he understood her position, that didn’t mean he was entirely comfortable with it. But was he willing to try and make this work, to keep her on his squad--this time as his decision, not a decision Erwin made in the name of surveillance--and see if things could still work out despite the mess this entire ordeal had turned into that almost ended in his death.
Was it a damaged well, or poisoned water?
Was he going to cut his losses, or try to fix this?
“...Don’t put her on another squad,” he finally told Erwin. “She’ll still have her skills put to the best use with my Squad. I’ll figure out how to deal with...everything.”
He was going to try and make this work, despite the current friction between them.
The only question now, was how?
Erwin was the one to tell L/N that she was staying in the Scouts, of course, and by extension he was also the one to tell her she'd remain on Levi's squad, and that it was Levi's job to keep an eye on her and make sure she stayed in line. As for Levi, it was back to business as usual while Erwin handled speaking with L/N.
And two days later, Levi abruptly decided that everyone was going to do a deep clean of HQ, assigning everyone at least one room, with L/N having two considering how fast and how well she cleaned, and himself having three so that he had plenty of time to think while he was cleaning.
Now that his concerns about betrayal and deceit had been assuaged, he could finally allow the softer sides of her he’d glimpsed to settle in his mind, too. Between the darker side he now had a better picture of and the person he’d been seeing since she joined the Scouts, he could finally form a more complete picture of the new person on his squad and start to decide what he thought of her.
Any lingering concepts in his mind that she wasn’t up to the job went out the window--except for a general concern about her being around too much blood. She hadn’t been in the middle of a truly hairy expedition with people dying left and right. She’d been struggling when he was bleeding out in front of her--what would it be like when there were people dying bloody all around her?
Then again, she’d already pointed out that his blood was particularly alluring.
That was still an odd thing to think about--he was probably going to do his best not to think about it.
He wasn’t too worried about her being able to hand the more...psychological stresses of being a Scout. If she could handle being directly responsible for death, and being around it so much after living in and hunting in the Underground, she might fare better than most in the environment.
If it hadn't been the sharper, harder edge he'd seen to her personality in the dungeon, the knowledge of the things she'd already seen and been through, he'd be worried she had too soft of a temperament and personality for the Scouts. It had been what he'd seen from her before the whole vampire thing came out.
She was the woman who went out of her way to comfort the horses and make sure they knew they could trust her. Who sat in the field with the horses and simply soaked in the sun's rays while drawing whatever she could see--namely horses, at least once the man who had been watching her, yet she never said a word. She was the woman with a tea garden in a hidden corner of the Scout’s headquarters so that she could save more of her salary...and use it to shelter and provide for the parents who didn't know, and would probably never know, they're daughter was still alive. The woman who snuck treats out to the horses from her own plate, who'd gotten at least half of Levi’s squad drinking their tea with a bit of white sage for health purposes--only Levi aware of just how much it was actually doing for them. The one who had asked for a different kind of lesson or tutoring from each squad member so they wouldn’t feel like she was some air-headed newbie that thought she was better than everyone because she was put on a fast track to Levi’s squad fresh out of the cadets, so that they could feel like they were still teaching her something, that she was learning from them. She was the kind of person who made little gestures like covering him with her cloak when she saw him asleep at the table without a second thought, or timing a fresh cup of black tea almost perfectly to help keep him alert when despite his insomnia he would start to feel tired in the middle of the day, who'd risked the loss of a leg to make sure Eld wouldn't get hurt even after Levi killed the Titan, and who had saved his life even though, at the time, doing so was a great risk to her, because he could put a swift end to the life she'd been trying to build above ground.
She was a good person at heart. Complicated as hell, still dangerous and a risk, and she had her skeletons, her demons and dark secrets, her flaws...but still, a good person at heart.
He’d been watching her closely long enough to pick up on all of that and then some, even if he’d tucked most of it away for later evaluation considering at the time he was worried it might be a front for some insidious ulterior motive.
And he had to do something to try and mend the relationship they had. They couldn't function as part of a squad with all this tension and friction, let alone as captain and subordinate, definitely not as a team. There had to be some level of trust if they were going to be working together in the future, and right now, there was pretty much none, mostly because of him. And he had to be the one to make a first step towards repairing the damage that he had inflicted so that they could start building at least the groundwork of a working trust in one another. They would need it when they went out in the field, because all that raw ability meant nothing if they couldn’t function with each other.
Levi scrubbed harder at the stone floor, seeing his fingertips turn pale with the rest of his hands red from the hot soapy water and the pressure he was putting on the brush.
"Captain?"
Levi sighed, leaning back and putting the brush back into the water, turning and lowering the cloth over his face to look over at Petra standing in the doorway with a broom in hand.
"Oluo says he's done with his room, he's just waiting for your inspection," she informed him, though the look on her face was enough to tell him he'd be telling Oluo to do it all over again as soon as he saw it.
"I'll do it when I'm finished," Levi answered, raising the cloth over his face and pulling out the brush to start scrubbing again. "Tell him to make sure he's finished while he waits."
"Yes, Captain," Petra said with a small nod, turning to leave.
"Has L/N finished with her two rooms?" Levi asked before she could leave entirely, focused on a new spot of stone as he spoke instead of looking up at her.
"Yes, sir. She actually went outside, out front, to do some extra cleaning while she waited for you to be ready to inspect the rooms."
She was also really good at cleaning. She had to be, right? She'd lived below ground longer than he had, and her senses were extra sensitive. One bad smell must be torture for her, the dust probably setting off her sensitive nose with the slightest buildup, her sight probably making it easier to pick out grime, and her speed making her a faster cleaner than anyone here--when she didn't have to slow down because she was being watched by someone who didn't know what she was. No wonder she was so damn good at cleaning, why he hadn't found any flaws with it to date.
It almost felt like cheating to him, for some reason.
He pressed unnecessarily hard down on the brush again, feeling the bristles bend and strain slightly in the brush, his fingertips turning pale again.
"Tell her when she's finished with whatever she's doing right now to come up here," Levi told Petra, offering no more explanation as he continued scrubbing at the floor.
“Yes, sir.”
Petra left after that, and Levi focused on the room around him--his third room, mind you, and he was almost done. His hands were red, a little raw, too, but it wasn’t anything serious. He just kept getting lost in his thoughts while he was cleaning, and instead of calming down like he normally did when he cleaned, he’d tense up at those moments where he got lost in his thoughts. He was going over his attempt at a peace offering over and over again, well aware that he wasn’t the best...people person, that communication on a social or emotional level was not his strong suit. But he was hoping the intention behind the gesture would be clear. She wasn’t an idiot--she was smart. There was a decent chance she’d be able to see what he was trying to do.
Hopefully.
Levi was just starting to finish up, finishing with a bit of polish on the metal in the room when L/N finally made her appearance, standing in the doorway with similar cleaning additions to her uniform as him, though she had an apron on that was currently tucked up and into her straps to keep any dirt from falling onto the floor while she walked.
She must have been doing some garden and yard work, then. Pulling weeds or something like that out front. At least she wasn’t tracking dirt everywhere, from what he could see--and his eyes were scanning her and her surroundings carefully to make sure she wasn’t about to ruin his hard work.
“You wanted to see me, Captain?” she asked formerly, keeping her gaze fixed on him instead of letting it wander around the room at anything other than him.
That was a start, at least. He’d be worried this entire rebuilding the bridge thing wouldn’t work out well if she couldn’t even look him in the eyes.
But the tension was still there, thick and uncomfortable, enough to put even him on edge. There was a distance in her posture, a different kind of guarded than when he’d been snooping around and watching her every move. Like she was hyper-aware of what he was going to think of her moving forward.
He was still coming to a decision about that one, honestly.
“You’re going to start training with me,” Levi said with no lead up, causing her eyebrows to raise in surprise, opening her mouth like she was about to ask questions before she quickly closed it again, since he continued to talk as if her reaction didn’t phase him in the slightest or give him any kind of pause. “You’ve got some things to work on before the next expedition. Two lessons a day, sparring and ODM gear. Make sure you make the time for it.”
“Ah, Captain...I’m not sure if I...should…” she said hesitantly, caught between obeying what was close to a command from her Captain and a reluctance to take him up on the lessons because...what, was the tension that bad for her that she didn’t think she could train with him? Did she not want to be anywhere near him any more than she already was? Did she think she would make him uncomfortable? Did she not like the thought of being alone with him?
That was a viable concern, actually.
Or maybe she just thought there wasn’t anything he could teach her.
On the contrary--she’d said herself that she was having trouble with the ODM gear. She’d said one of her risks was that she reacted too fast for the gear to keep up with her, sometimes. That was a problem, especially in a situation where one needed to rely on instincts--how could you rely on instincts while also trying to muffle them to lower to the level of the gear, or nearby people?
She needed help finding the middle ground, or at least training herself to instinctually pace herself so she didn’t outpace the gear in an emergency. Like she’d pointed out herself, that kind of mistake could be the difference between life and death, even for her.
As for the sparring...well, the only people here that came close to matching their skills was each other. Who else were they going to spar besides each other? Besides, it would be refreshing to have someone he could actually go all out on that would be a challenge for him. He was sure the same applied for her, now that she didn’t have to hold back to keep her secret hidden.
If that had been the reason she’d thrown the fight the first time they’d sparred.
Plus, all that raw strength and speed meant nothing if she didn’t know how to use it. He could still teach her things, show her some techniques she could use in a fight, that kind of thing.
Is offer to teach her was his way of offering an olive branch to her...and he didn’t take too kindly to her starting to turn down the offer.
Levi narrowed his eyes slightly at her as she continued to cast about for a solid excuse to turn him down. Most people here would kill for one on one lessons from him--a fact he was well aware of. Yet here she was, proving just how out of the ordinary she was as she seemed to be beyond just the vampire thing, trying to weasel out of it. “What? Don’t think you have anything to learn because you’re so naturally gifted?” he asked in a jab much softer than his accusations during their interrogation.
“No, it’s just…” she started to say with a frustrated sigh, looking over her shoulder like she was looking at someone, even though no one was there. “Eld’s already giving me ODM gear lessons…”
Was that really it? He doubted it. Yes, Eld was teaching her a few things, Levi was aware, but it wasn’t the same as what Levi was offering to teach her. And it wasn’t a reason to turn him down in the first place. Just another excuse. Unless she was really worried about what the others would think if she got not only one daily private lesson with Levi, but two. As much as Levi was usually of the opinion “To hell what other people think,” this one he could see where she was coming from if it was the case. She’d just gotten the others to warm up to her despite their grumbling and cold shoulders after the extremely green rookie got sped through all the tape and obstacles right into Levi’s Squad while they put in hard work and were hand picked by Levi after some time in the Scouts after displaying their own strengths and skills over a period of time. It must have looked like favoritism--and Levi giving her double private lessons wasn’t going to help anything.
It didn’t change the fact that she still needed them or could benefit from them. And that it was a way for them to start making amends...in a roundabout way.
“ODM techniques. Special maneuvers: team and solo, correct?” Levi asked, mostly rhetorically, though she still nodded in confirmation. Levi moved over to the table he was keeping his cleaning supplies on, starting to pack up his things so he could leave to start doing inspections of everyone’s designated rooms. “I’m not going to be teaching you what Eld is. You said you were having problems with reacting too fast for the gear, right?”
Levi spoke pointedly, giving her a sidelong glance so he could gauge her reaction and she could see he was serious about this--and that he didn’t have any ulterior motives. She didn’t protest again. She still looked a little uncomfortable, possibly because of the bump this could cause with the others once they found out, maybe because it meant the two of them were going to be spending more time with one another and they were going to have to get over this tension between them really quickly if they didn’t want to end up at each other’s throats trying to kill each other, but she didn’t protest anymore.
“Four a.m. in the woods for hand to hand. Two hours before dinner on the training grounds for the ODM gear. Don’t be late,” Levi told her, taking his supplies and leaving her behind in the room as his way of dismissing her.
Now to go yell at Oluo for not getting his cleaning job done properly, most likely.
Next Chapter---->
(Strikethroughs Couldn’t Be Tagged)
Levi Tags: @humanitys-hottestsoldier @clary-quinn @sunny-flo @whalerus @thirstyforsometea
Wings in the Dark Tags: @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse @subtlepjiminie @hakunamatatayqueen @queenofcurse @linxiajei17 @levisbebe @toni-jones
#Levi#levi ackerman#captain levi#levi aot#aot levi#levi snk#snk levi#levi heichou#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#captain levi x reader#aot levi x reader#levi x vampire!reader#captain levi x vampire!reader#aot levi x vampire!reader#levi ackerman x vampire!reader#levi fanfic#Levi fanfiction#levi fan fic#levi fan fiction#captain levi fanfic#captain levi fan fiction#captain levi fanfiction#captain levi fan fic#levi ackerman fanfiction#levi ackerman fanfic#levi ackerman fan fiction#levi ackerman fan fic#aot levi fanfic#aot levi fanfiction
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Oathkeeper, Chapter 3
Thank you: @veryverynotgood my phenomenal beta--you keep me going when I'm busy wallowing in doubt, and you make me less of a walking run-on (hooray!).
Bless y'all: the CSMM Discord crew--it's like a community of flails, encouragement, and collaboration...such magic!
Head's up: No description of violence nor abuse; however, they are mentioned.
AO3 Links: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
Most days, Killian occupied himself either by helping Granny with the more physically taxing chores around the inn and diner or on board his ship ensuring her seaworthiness. Granted, the Jolly was in top form and she certainly had no need of repairs nor did she have a heading before her; but it quieted his mind to see to her every need and to painstakingly mend every frayed hem of a sail and worn bit of paint. Lately, he’d taken to wandering Storybrooke as Granny increasingly gave tasks over to young Felix.
The boy was coming along, a bit less surly now. Killian was certain this was due to Ruby’s unending praise of his efforts--no sixteen year-old lad could resist her charms. He’d had a hard time containing his laughter when he witnessed the latest scene: Ruby, clad in a button-down shirt she must have sewn onto herself each morning, batting her eyes at young Felix as she asked for his help bringing up kegs from the cellar. The boy had practically tripped over his own feet as he scrambled to assist, then struggled mightily as he puffed up the stairs with a metal cylinder that likely outweighed his slight frame. Killian had watched as Felix professed the task “no problem”, but had also seen his eyes widen to immense saucers when Ruby cheerfully called there were only “five more to go”. At that, Killian offered his assistance quietly, assuring the boy Ruby would never know that he had not fulfilled the task single-handedly. She was occupied cleaning up after the lunch crowd filtered out, so Killian helped Felix make short work of the task before ducking out the back and allowing the young man credit for the entire endeavor.
Today, however, there was little for him to do and it made Killian antsy. He took to wandering the shore as his mind drifted to the Crocodile, the Princess, and the confusion of his present state of affairs. His increasingly cloudy thoughts were interrupted by a shouted “Ahoy, Captain Hook!” and Killian’s eyes snapped to a strange wooden contraption where young Henry Mills stood, waving to him and grinning from ear to ear.
“Good afternoon,” he sketched a brief bow to the boy as he stepped up to what he now realized was Henry’s castle. Emma had mentioned it in passing as the place the young lad took refuge in his own thoughts, an all-too-familiar notion for Killian. “I was given to understand this time of day was set aside for studies, lad. Or am I mistaken?” He raised an eyebrow up at the boy who shook his head, informing Killian school had ended an hour ago.
“My moms are busy though,” he explained simply. “Regina has a meeting with someone who wants to open a new store, and Emma is in the mines because ‘ the dwarves are flipping out about some property rights ’.” Killian chuckled at the boy’s impression of his mother. He was invited into Henry’s castle where the two sat and looked out at the waves lapping against the shore. At first, the conversation was largely Henry reporting out about his school day. It seemed he was struggling with something math-related, and while Killian’s formal schooling was long behind him, he did offer the boy assistance.
“If, that is, your parents will allow it,” he added quickly, unsure where he stood in the strange dynamic of this town and particularly this family.
Henry snorted at that. “Regina might get weird about it, but she’s trying to make up for the whole...Evil Queen thing, so I think I can manage one mom. The other mom…” he shrugged “I don’t think she’d mind as long as I’m not asking her the math questions. She said it was her least favorite subject in school.”
Killian steeled himself for his next question, taking a deep breath and levelling his gaze at Henry. “And your father?”
Henry made a face at that. “I don’t really know,” he admitted in a tone Killian couldn’t quite decipher. “He was supposed to pick me up from school today,” Henry tucked up his knees and rested his chin on them in a pose Killian had seen Emma take up as well. It seems they both made themselves smaller in these moments of questioning. “I don’t know if he forgot, or if something came up...I don’t think he knows what to do with me.” Henry peeked up at Killian, looking so uncertain of himself that it nearly broke the man’s heart. He knew what it was to feel on uneven ground with one’s father, to feel more a burden than a blessing, and he refused to allow Henry’s mind to wander those dark halls. While he could offer no real comfort when it came to the man Neal seemed determined to remain, he could offer a promising distraction that should spark young Henry’s curiosity.
“Well, whatever may be delaying him, it certainly has come at an opportune moment for me. Would you care to join me on board the Jolly , Master Mills? It’s past time she received an inspection from a keen eye such as yours.” The boy’s face lit up immediately and he jumped up, grabbing a device from his jacket pocket. After a moment’s pause, Killian heard a tinny version of Emma's voice as Henry hurriedly explained the plan to his device, suppressing a smile as Henry rolled his eyes at his mother’s questions.
“Yes, we’ll stay in the harbor,” he glanced at Killian who nodded along. “Yes, I will stay away from the railing and listen to everything--did you just call him Killian ? That’s weird, Mom, he’s a Captain...well, you’re supposed to address him by title because it’s his ship, of course…yes, yes, no….Mom, I’m not gonna die. I’m gonna go around the harbor with a master sailor…”
Killian knew the lad had won out when a rushed series of ‘thank you’s’ left his mouth before he tucked the device away once more. “She says, ‘tell The Captain that if you come back with one hair out of place, I’ll shave his off with David’s longsword’. She’s just being weird, I know we’re gonna be great--let’s go!” The lad took hold of Killian’s hook and led him down the small stairs onto the sand, setting off in the direction of his ship.
Once aboard, Henry was clearly overcome with curiosity. His return trip from Neverland hadn’t afforded him much time to explore or ask questions. In fact, he’d largely been asleep from pure exhaustion. For Killian, the afternoon with Henry was a remarkable chance to see his ship through the eyes of another. The boy’s questions seemed endless, and while they started with simple questions of identification--what parts of the rigging were called, the names of the various decks and quarters--they quickly expanded to encompass how everything came together to make her sail. His enthusiasm was infectious, and it brought Killian so fully out of his earlier sour mood that it nearly felt like Henry had his own kind of magic.
“Okay, but how do you get up to the crow’s nest?” Henry scrutinized the location through narrowed eyes. Killian stepped in behind him, pointing out the most logical route through the rigging. “Cool! Can I try?”
“I...don’t think that’s wise, lad. I prefer my head firmly attached, and your mother may well remove it if she finds out I let you free-climb the rigging.” Henry turned to face him, a mischievous smirk on his face as he intoned that she didn’t have to know about it.
“While I appreciate the enthusiasm, I need her to like me far better than she does before I conspire against her wishes. A rogue can only get away with so much when it comes to the tenacity of a mother,” he winked, and hoped like hell the boy would let it go. Of course, as Emma’s child he should have known that would be improbable at best.
“Oh, she likes you well enough.” Killian furrowed his brow at this while Henry grinned. Obviously the lad knew how to catch his attention, though just how aware he was of what Killian felt for Emma was still unclear-- the notorious Captain Hook, bested by a child . “You earned a ton of points with her in Neverland,” Henry clarified. “I know she didn’t tell me everything, but she did tell me you saved my grandpa, and I already know you saved me. Since she just got this part of her family back, you gotta know that earned you like...a million points in her eyes. You could totally stand to lose a few of them and teach me how to get up there.”
It took Killian another five minutes to finally persuade Henry that rather than risk a broken arm, or worse, he should simply ask Emma for permission before he learned to scout from above. The cost of negotiations wasn’t much, Henry simply wanted to learn to steer the ship, and so Killian guided him in his quest as they toured the harbor together. The lad had adventure in his blood, that much Killian was certain of, and it seemed he just might be falling in love with the sea as well. The idea tugged at Killian’s heart, as did the pure joy he saw in the boy’s face when they returned to port after the successful little journey.
After receiving a message on his device, Henry mentioned needing to return to his grandparents’ loft, and Killian was happy to escort him, listening to Henry’s re-telling of their afternoon on the Jolly and basking in the shared moment. To hear Henry tell it, you’d think they’d travelled across a realm or two rather than simply around Storybrooke’s small harbor. He wondered how the boy would tell it to his mother and what she would think. Would she be angry at Killian and think he had overstepped? Would Henry mention his father’s neglect today?
His thoughts were interrupted when they arrived at the door and Henry flung his arms around Killian. He hesitated only a moment before returning the fierce embrace. “Thanks, Captain,” the boy grinned up at him. “Next time, I’m going up that rigging though. And I’m learning how to use your spyglass up there, right? I wanna see everything--as far out as I can!”
Killian chuckled, “So long as you have it in writing from your mother, aye lad.”
---
Two nights later, Killian awoke to someone pounding on his door in the middle of the night and he bolted upright, grabbing his hook from the bedside table as he crossed the pitch-black room. He swung the door open to reveal a distraught Emma Swan, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and her fingers tapping an uneven rhythm at her side.
“I didn’t know where else to go, but I couldn’t stay in that loft for another minute,” she explained, voice cracking. “Can I come in?”
Killian stepped aside, allowing her to pass before he followed and shut the door behind them, clicking on the lamp by the bed and sitting down. There was little room, and she took a spot near him on the bed, her right leg bouncing as she stared down at the floor. He gave her a moment, but when she showed no signs of relaxing he gently spoke her name, “Swan?” Her leg stilled and she looked up, tears tracking down her cheeks. “Swan, what’s wrong?”
As he waited for her response, Killian wracked his memory--what had happened over the course of the last few days? He’d seen her in the diner each morning when she picked up her coffee and there had been no hint of whatever was on her mind. He’d run into her at the library when Henry was doing research for a school project and he was reading up on this realm’s history, but she’d been perfectly fine and that was only yesterday. They’d even discussed finding volunteer work for Felix as he was starting to grate on Granny’s nerves, Swan mentioning it may be best if the boy also enrolled in school. What could have changed so much since yesterday? He searched her eyes and waited, hoping she would reveal the problem in due time.
“I yelled at them,” she murmured at last, dropping her eyes back to the floor.
“Pardon? At whom?” He’d seen Emma yell at a fair number of people, himself chief among them, and didn’t recall her reacting in this way before.
“My parents,” she clarified, “I yelled at Snow White and Prince Charming of all people, and I know I hurt them...she was crying when I left the loft, but I was just...I was so angry with them that I couldn’t, I mean, I can’t be there right now.” She sniffed, and Killian saw her shoulders start to shake. He took a risk, trying his hand at comfort when he slipped an arm around her shoulders and to his surprise she willingly leaned into him. Silence fell between them. He knew there was far more to the story, but wanted to let her move at her own pace and tell it in her way rather than pry it out of her.
She wiped her eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” she started, “I don’t know what I was doing, I just had to get out and you were the only person I thought might answer the door this late.”
“Always available to help a lady in distress, Swan,” he tried a light jest and was rewarded with poke to his ribs. “Oww--just going to wake a man up and bruise him in his own room?” He pulled back to smile at her and she immediately scooted away, a blush blossoming on her cheeks. It was then he realized they’d never shared a touch that gentle and intimate. Yes, they had kissed-- and gods what a kiss it was --but moments before he’d been granted permission to hold her. It was just the two of them in the quiet hours of the night, and she had spent these vulnerable moments cradled against his bare chest. He cleared his throat and asked softly, “What was it that upset you so? Is there something I can do to help?”
She shook her head, tucking her legs under her as she chewed her bottom lip. With a huff, she continued. “They asked if I wanted to have family dinner, and that’s kind of...new, but I went with it. So Regina dropped Henry at the loft and I thought it was going to be--anyway, it wasn’t what I thought. Neal showed up ten minutes later.” She was picking at the quilt on the bed and wouldn’t meet Killian’s eyes, probably for the best given the sneer he couldn’t quite hide. “I didn’t want to make a scene in front of Henry, so I just went along with things at dinner. I figured I could deal with a couple of hours, plus the kid is a hell of a buffer and good at keeping everyone talking, but I know he didn’t show up the other day when you and Henry went sailing. I know when Henry talks Neal only half listens.” She paused for a long while, and Killian crossed the room, offering her the flask he pulled from the pocket of his greatcoat.
She took a swig and rolled her shoulders, visibly trying to relax before turning back to face him. After a soft word of thanks, she continued. “When Henry left, Neal stuck around. My parents offered him a nightcap and asked if he’d like to stay over .” It didn’t take the experience of Dr. Hopper to see she was disturbed by this. “And I lost it. I am so sick of their meddling, and their bizarrely perfect vision of him that I completely snapped. I spit out the whole story--”
Killian sat up straighter at this, aware she’d built up momentum and certain he was about to have another piece of the puzzle that was Emma Swan click into place.
“How he’d preyed on a goddamn homeless teenager, offering her shelter when he knew she didn’t have any of her own. How he knocked up a fucking seventeen year old and left her to rot in jail for his crimes, never bothering to admit his own guilt, never checking in to learn he’d fathered a child,” her tears flowed freely and her eyes blazed like emerald fire. “I told them the truth. That he was a predator, and I was too young and stupid to know better, and that I didn’t have the luxury of having anyone to warn me about people like him, of having anyone who cared enough to see the situation for what it was.”
Her breathing hitched and Killian instinctively reached for her, pulling her into a tight embrace and stroking her hair as she lost the final shreds of her composure. She sobbed against him and he murmured to her small comforts, that it would be all right and she didn’t have to be alone. After a while, her sobs diminished, lessening to sniffles and gasping breaths. He rubbed slow circles on her back and she finished her tale, tone empty and defeated, “I told them exactly what I finally realized: that I was abused by the man they keep inviting into our family, and that I cannot be in that place if they really think I’m supposed to patch things up with him and act like none of this happened, like it didn’t matter that he used me and threw me away.”
His heart broke for her, eyes stinging with unshed tears as he listened to the culmination of her loss and pain. “I don’t know how to face them again,” she mumbled against Killian’s chest, sagging against him in complete exhaustion. He assured her she needn’t think of that now, that what she needed was rest. And he offered to share the space with her. She nodded quietly, taking the offered shirt and pants and leaving to change in the adjoining bathroom.
Killian lay back, propped up on a pillow while his mind processed all she’d told him. He knew without a doubt her parents would mend this relationship, though it may well take time. He knew as well that whatever he’d promised Neal, that oath had been needless. In fact, the larger problem Killian now faced was how to make it through the next twenty-four hours without gutting Neal with his hook. The man had taken advantage of Emma, had framed her for his crime, and had abandoned her. It seemed Bae had become his father after all, and that did not bode well for him in Killian’s eyes.
His violent contemplations were interrupted by a bashful looking Emma, clad all in his own black attire and softly padding across the small room. “I’ll take the side by the door, Swan. Old habits, you know,” he nodded toward the cutlass by the bed and his hook which once again lay atop the nightstand. She smiled sheepishly as she slid under the covers next to him, offering a soft word of thanks and curling up with her back to him. He clicked off the light, desperately hoping she couldn’t hear the pounding of his heart as Killian tried like hell to fall back asleep.
Thanks for reading! Tagging the usual suspects: @kmomof4, @teamhook, @gingerpolyglot, @hollyethecurious, @caught-in-the-filter, @lonelyspectator12, @donteattheappleshook
#cs fan fic#captain swan#oathkeeper#killian jones#emma swan#henry mills#captain swan fanfic#karly tries to write
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In my 10+ years of teaching at the college level, I’ve met a lot of students.
Recently, a colleague and I shared how professors we’ve both known have often referred to the “top 1%” of students they’ve taught in their careers. I quickly did a bit of rough math in my head, and it turns out that I have likely taught at least 1,500 students in my own career. This excludes the many students I’ve taught in test prep programs, after school programs, and summer programs. Add those, and I could probably at least double the total number of students I’ve taught to 3,000.
Using the “top 1%” metaphor, this means that a teacher who has taught for 10 years has about 15-30 students that come to mind when they think of “the best” students they’ve worked with.
The question, then, becomes: How do you, as a student, make it into that top 1%?
Making it into a teacher’s top 1% isn’t just for the sake of playing teacher’s pet. It’s practical. As a student, it benefits you to not simply “go through the motions” of school, being just another name or number on a roll sheet. Of course, having a good relationship with your teachers benefits you in that you will have better communication with them, which enhances your ability to learn while in their classes.
But, it can also benefit you long after their classes are over. If you’ve had great relationships with your teachers—even perhaps making it into their top 1%—they will be more likely to write you excellent letters of recommendation, which are vital to your success in the college admissions process.
So, with this in mind, below is a list of 6 great ways to stand out as a student so that teachers will give you strong recommendation letters.
1. BE RELIABLE
Many of the best teachers admire students who don’t necessarily follow the rules. But, it’s important to clarify that this only applies to being an intellectual rule-breaker and thinking outside of the box. What teachers don’t appreciate are students who deliberately disobey rules that are established for the sake of helping their classes run smoothly.
This may seem like it goes without saying. But one of the simplest ways to be a great student is just to be reliable. You can do this by always completing your work, arriving to class on time, and showing up every day prepared and ready to participate.
It’s not so much that students stand out for being reliable; it’s that students stand out for being unreliable—in other words, for all the wrong reasons. So, take the first best step toward securing a strong recommendation letter this way.
2. BE A TEAM PLAYER 🤝
Most of the best classrooms (virtual or otherwise) function like a sports team, where the teacher leads or guides (like a coach) and all of the students also have a role (like players). This stands in contrast to traditional (and largely outdated) classroom models where the teacher takes the only active role and the students are merely passive observers.
Good teachers relish students who are excellent team players—who listen actively, participate by making meaningful contributions to discussions, and generally exude a positive energy.
In my own experience, I’ve found that classes tend to function like the organic and often unpredictable flow of a basketball game. Some of the best moments in my classes have occurred when my game plan suddenly (and wonderfully) shifted because a student raised a compelling idea in discussion that we then pursued. I think of such students as my best teammates, giving me assists as I try to make a play.
But being a great team player in class doesn’t just involve your interactions with your teacher. It also involves how you interact with your other teammates, or classmates. Some of the strongest students I’ve worked with stand out in my memory not just because of how they treated their classmates, but also because of how their classmates responded to them.
Just as the best team players know when to lead and when not to hog the ball so as to let others on the team shine, so too do the best students know when to speak up and step in when their classmates need help, but also when not to dominate the conversation, actively listening instead so as to let their classmates also shine.
3. DEMONSTRATE CURIOSITY 🤔
Students often believe—incorrectly—that the best way to be a team player is simply to be the most “intelligent” student in the room. In reality, raw intelligence is typically not the attribute that good teachers appreciate most in their students. Instead, this attribute is curiosity.
What does it mean to “demonstrate curiosity” as a student? Generally speaking, it means having an open mind. If you encounter course material that is initially off-putting because it seems too difficult, for instance, don’t run the other way out of frustration. Instead, ask yourself: Why might this material be of interest? Why have people devoted their entire lives to its study? What could I learn from it?
4. VISIT OFFICE HOURS 🚪
The best letters of recommendation are written by teachers who really know the student in question. Although there are exceptions to this rule, it’s typically not ideal, then, to request a letter from a teacher who you only studied with for a brief summer session, or who you never actually spoke to in person (say, from an online course).
In my own experience, the recommendation letters I write are better the more I know a student. So, if there is a teacher with whom you feel comfortable, don’t be afraid to open up to them a bit.
Why is this helpful for recommendation letters, exactly? If you are taking several AP courses while also juggling a heavy load of extracurriculars, a resume or transcript will show this at a glance. But if you are taking night classes while also raising a child or taking care of your ailing parents, for instance, the extent of your hard work will not likely appear anywhere on paper.
If you take the time to open up about the particulars of your life to a teacher, however, they can speak to your perseverance and grit in a meaningful recommendation letter to an admissions committee. That added understanding could very well mean the difference between a college acceptance or none.
You may or may not have opportunities to open up to your teachers during class. And you may or may not feel comfortable doing so. So, take advantage of your teachers’ office hours, when you can speak with them one-on-one.
5. TURN IN AN IMPRESSIVE ASSIGNMENT 🥇
When writing recommendation letters, the best teachers will not write generally about the student in question. Rather, they will look for specifics to discuss. After all, specific examples are what help readers visualize and relate to what a writer is describing, ultimately becoming convinced of their claims.
In order to do this, teachers need to be supplied with specifics to write about you. So, if you’ve written an especially impressive paper, completed a particularly dynamic presentation, or organized a uniquely inspiring event, bring this to your teacher’s attention. It will give them something to focus portions of their recommendation letter around, and they can point to these specific examples as evidence of your mastery of a subject, your hard work, your passion, or any of your other exceptional traits.
Ultimately, your teacher’s reflections on these detailed examples will give admissions committees something to remember about you as a candidate, which is crucial considering how many applications colleges receive each year.
6. STAY IN TOUCH
Typically, students don’t require recommendation letters immediately upon completing a course. So, it can be difficult having to reach out to former teachers semesters—or even years—down the road. In this case, it can feel awkward asking them for the favor of writing a letter since you haven’t spoken in some time. You may wonder if they even remember you!
To avoid this, I suggest emailing your teachers not long after a course has ended just to say a friendly hello, to share that you enjoyed their class, and to ask if they might be open to writing you a recommendation letter in the future. Although you might not require the letter immediately, asking in advance in this way is a good idea for a few reasons. It demonstrates that you are taking initiative by being so forward thinking about your future success. It also helps to plant a seed in your teacher’s mind; they will be more likely to remember you when you reach out to officially request a letter one day.
SOME FINAL ADVICE FOR REQUESTING LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION
When requesting a letter of recommendation, it’s always best to ask your teachers well in advance of the deadline so that they have plenty of time to complete the work. This means that you should usually aim for giving them at least 4 weeks and never less than 2 weeks. Remember that while they typically understand that writing such letters comes with the job and are happy to help out their students in this way, teachers are very busy people. So, do what you can to make the task as simple as possible for them.
Beyond giving them ample time to complete their letters, you can also simplify the task for your teachers by giving them a copy of your resume/accomplishments and a few of your strongest assignments as references. Finally, be sure to always ask at least one more individual than is required as a backup in case your original letter writer doesn’t come through or fails to get their letter in on time.
#appblr#studyblr#rec letters#letters of recommendation#college prep#college admissions#high school#go to college
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Orbit | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic
Ayyyy this is for @veraiconcos fic writer palooza! I had a ton of fun working on this, check out their post for more details!
Summary: Since joining the BAU you have easily become one of Spencer’s best friends, and he is terrified he is going to lose you. (Gender neutral reader, platonic soulmates).
Category: Fluff
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR 4x24-5x01.
Word Count: 1830
As with all of my Galaxy Universe fics, the plot for this fic is fully standalone! If you like this relationship, I have a whole bunch of content that you can find in my GALAXY MASTERLIST
Spencer Reid didn’t have to be a genius to know he was sporting some abandonment issues. In his defense, though, he had been left by too many prominent people in his life and he was only 27 years old.
Even though he had only known you for a short while, you had easily secured a spot as one of his favorite people. As much as he enjoyed spending time with you and liked that he could be unapologetically himself, it terrified him that he could be so comfortable with you.
He wanted to shut down and shut you out, not let you see the broken pieces left by his father, Elle, and Gideon, but every time he tried you would do something so unapologetically you that it was impossible to stop feeling like the universe had created the two of you for the sole purpose of knowing the other.
It was the twinkle in your eye when you would remind Morgan that you were authorized to carry a larger gun than he was. It was the way you perched on Spencer’s desk while debating the best way to eat an Oreo. It was the pen you always carried that Spencer suspected was for him because you preferred pencil.
You were the one person Spencer felt most relaxed around, and there was still the looming possibility that you could choose to leave.
It wasn’t until the Anthrax case that Spencer realized how much he was afraid of you leaving. When he woke up in the hospital Morgan was the only one there, and your absence was the first thing he noticed. He should have felt grateful that Morgan had chosen to stay and he felt guilty that he was upset about your absence until you showed up with as many jello cups as you could possibly carry.
“Oh good, you’re awake. Red or green?” Your words had been so casual and comfortable, exactly what Spencer needed as Derek filled him in on how the case had ended. You listened quietly from his other side, spooning sugary gelatin into your mouth.
Spencer wanted to tell you then how much he was afraid of you leaving, but he also didn’t want to speak it into existence. He decided to keep his mouth shut about it, let the secret fester in his soul until he figured out a better way to deal with it.
Then you went to Canada.
At first you were on the streets with Derek and Emily while Spencer stayed at the precinct to go over victimology. You called him right after you were done talking to the locals and on your way to meet back up with Morgan and Prentiss.
“I don’t know, Spence. Something about this feels off,” you told him when he asked how it had gone.
“How so?” he trusted your instincts, if you were able to pinpoint your source of uncertainty it could help him nail down the victimology.
“Everyone out here is being hyper vigilant. Nobody’s wandering off on their own, as far as I can tell. I don’t think this is just some guy who killed 10 people. There’s something bigger going on here, we just have to figure out what.”
As a man of science, Spencer was still working out how you knew the things you did from just a gut feeling. He wasn’t surprised when you were right.
Once the team had a better scope of things at the farm, Hotch assigned you and Spencer to learn as much as you could about Lucas Turner. After coming up empty in the house, it was your idea to check the barn. A comfortable, but serious silence fell between you as you found what you were looking for.
You were looking over his shoulder at the crayon drawing he was holding when Hotch came to check in on your findings.
“Hey Hotch,” you called to your unit chief as he started walking away, “do you ever get the feeling that a case isn’t going to end well?” Spencer wondered what cosmic events had to have occurred to give him the pleasure of knowing someone who mirrored his own thoughts so perfectly.
“Keep looking,” Hotch had said sternly before leaving, “this girl needs us.”
“That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for,” you sighed, turning back to the collection of objects in the barn.
“What did you want him to say?”
“Something validating, I guess. Sure, this girl needs us and I’m not saying we won’t find her, but even if she’s alive there’s still what- a hundred victims already dead? A hundred victims with families and lives. A hundred people…”
You were right, Spencer knew that. If he had learned anything while working with you, it was that your gut feelings usually had some merit to them. If you were feeling like this wasn’t going to end well, it probably wasn’t. He wondered if you would stay with the BAU if you were right, and with that came back the creeping fear he had been trying to avoid.
He didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he hadn’t processed his issues with your abandonment he wasn’t even sure was coming.
You took the Metro home with him, he didn’t have to ask to know that you were too tired to drive and could take the metro back to work once you were better rested.
“Spencer,” you had murmured sleepily from the seat next to him in the almost empty car.
“Hmmm?”
“This might sound really stupid, but do you ever feel like we were meant to be friends?”
Spencer swore his heart skipped a beat. All the mathematical equations in the world couldn’t explain the way you seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.
“There's an old Buddhist saying that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making,” he quipped, “but yes. I do.”
“So you think we’re soulmates?” you smirked.
“Assuming one perfect soulmate exists for every person on the planet and you’re in the same age range as your soulmate, there’s still 500 million potential candidates. Mathematically speaking, of course.”
Your eyes sparked at the debate, though your eyelids were still heavy “I thought there was 500 years of prep work behind it though. 500 years is long enough to filter through 500 million. That’s one million a year.”
“If I wasn’t convinced we were soulmates before, your math skills have sealed the deal.”
“Of course they have. I’m smarter than I look,” you boasted.
“Is intelligence something you can determine by appearance?”
“You tell me, genius. I think you look pretty smart.”
“You know, (y/n), I think you’re just as smart as I am,” he told you honestly. You furrowed your brow in confusion.
“Are you kidding? I failed high school Algebra twice.”
“Academic achievement isn’t the only way to measure intelligence,” he reminded you, “the way your brain works is exceptional.”
“Not right now, it isn’t. I feel like mush. Do cases stop hitting this hard once you’ve been doing this for a while?”
“No, my brain feels like mush too.”
“Go home and get some sleep, ok?” you instructed when it was your stop. Spencer waved as you walked away.
He saw you again sooner than he thought, insomnia not allowing him to sleep so he was the first to receive JJ’s call. He took the Metro to your apartment, knocking on the door until you answered. He was surprised at how quickly you were ready to go, knocking your elbow into his as you left your building to go back into work.
“Old habits, I guess,” you shrugged when he brought it up. It ended up being the most casual interaction of your day, another whirlwind of a case happening with the whole team running on not much sleep.
While Spencer stayed with Dr. Barton to go over medical charts, you went to the school with Morgan and JJ to protect Jeffrey. It was irrational, he knew, but he couldn’t help but wish you were still with him to work on building the profile.
He didn’t want to admit it (he wanted the team to focus on the gunned down unsub and Dr. Barton), but he was glad you were the first one by his side when you finally made it back to the doctor’s house. You stayed with him, even when he told the team about Hotch. In fact, you didn’t leave his side the entire ambulance ride and his time at the hospital.
JJ came into his hospital room a few times to update the two of you on Hotch’s situation, and every time he expected you to leave with her but you didn’t. When he was released from the hospital you drove him home, helping him up to his apartment. Once he was settled, you busied yourself making his home more accessible for the injured man.
Spencer felt sort of awkward as you hummed to yourself, and rightly so. You hadn’t spent much time outside of work together and now he was stuck on his couch with limited mobility. All things considered though, he really didn’t want you to go. He didn’t want you to leave his apartment, he didn’t want you to leave the BAU, and he didn’t want you to leave his life like so many other people that he cared about had.
In a stroke of genius, he realized that he had to tell you. He had to open up the possibility for you to stay to figure out if you were going to leave.
“(y/n)?” he called to you as you finished up putting away his clean dishes in the kitchen.
“What’s up?”
“If I asked you to stay, would you?”
There was a moment of silence that Spencer quickly realized was you moving through his small apartment to grab your bag before you happily joined him on the couch, sitting down carefully as to not jostle his leg.
“Of course I would, did you think I was leaving?”
Spencer blushed, “I don’t know… people who I care about have a tendency to leave.” He watched your features soften.
“Spencer,” you started, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you.”
You didn’t need to clarify further, you both knew the weight your words held and it relieved the tension Spencer had been sporting since the beginning of your friendship like a weighted blanket relieves anxiety.
“Do you want to watch this movie I got from the library about alien abductions in Alaska? I’ve heard it’s super creepy and I didn’t really want to watch it alone anyways.”
Spencer grinned at your suggestion, “there was actually a study that showed that people who claimed to be abducted by aliens were predisposed to sleep paralysis and hypnosis. Should we order some food? When was the last time you ate?”
#vicficwriterchallenge#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#platonic imagine#platonic soulmates
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| snakes | Suna Rintarou
»»——⍟——««
song | Trust Fund Baby - Why Don’t We
pairing | Suna Rintarou x Reader
words | 1.8k
warning(s) | The reader has undertones of someone who’s sort of mean and sadistic? The story also relates the reader to a snake. I like snakes. I think they’re cool. But if you’re scared of snakes and you’re uncomfortable with the idea of being referenced to a snake,,, don’t read, I guess?
author’s note | I rewrote this five fricking times and I still hate it but I’m not writing this again so have this
»»——⍟——««
Confidence.
He could feel it radiating off you in waves. Your presence diffused into the gym, alerting every person in the room of your arrival. Attention was drawn to you like moths were drawn to the light, every pair of eyes magnetised to your form by the gym door.
Kita instantly rushed over to greet you politely, the details of your conversation too far away to be heard. For a brief moment, Suna registered just how well the two of you looked together.
L/N Y/N, the representative and top student of his class, the newly-elected second-year secretary of the student council. No one doubted that you would take the president position in your third year, not with the ‘perfect student’ image you had going on.
Kita Shinsuke, also top in grades, captain of the volleyball club, well-liked by the staff and students alike due to his politeness and nature.
The two of you looked like a perfect imitation of what a modern royalty would be like. A combination of grace, elegance, and a face that was hardly fazed by anything. Something similar to bitterness ate away in the bottom of Suna’s heart as he turned away, muttering about putting more practice into his blocks.
“What was she looking for you for?” He overheard Aran asking.
“Oh, she’s filling in some missing information for our club. She came over to clarify some details.” Kita answered easily.
Suna wasn’t really surprised when a couple third years, belonging to the student council committee- Showed up on the doorsteps of your shared class, asking to see you. Later on, he learned that the entire council body had brought up your name when asked which second-year should be elected as the secretary. You were well-known, even among the third years, as someone who possessed high intellect and organisation abilities, so it wasn’t a shock that your name was the one that nearly everyone suggested.
If only they knew.
If only they knew that you weren’t completely that ‘perfect student’ act that you’d put up.
If only they knew just how cunning, sly, and sarcastic you really were.
»»——⍟——««
If Suna had to describe you in one word, it would be snake.
You were the definition of elegance, grace, and beauty. Every movement you made was meticulously calculated and not a single joule of energy was wasted or passed off as inefficiently used. There was never a hair out of place, and your skirt was never creased, no matter how long you had been sitting at your seat.
Of course, Suna hadn’t always thought of you as a snake. It was only after that one fine summer day in his first year that his perception of you took a 180 turn, revealing to him what you truly were like.
He had been on his way home, bag slung over his shoulder, when he caught the slight noise that seemed like a whimper. Never one to leave his nose out of someone else’s business, Suna slunk around, careful to stick to the shadows until the shocking sight befell his eyes.
“So, you’re the one who’s been bullying [your brother’s name]?” The voice that dripped from your lips was distasteful, as if the junior high student that you had cornered in the alley was a filthy peasant compared to your royal status. “You don’t look very fierce now, do you?”
If sarcasm was an art, then you’d probably be a DaVinci-level expert. He would even go as far as calling you a prodigy. And if there was a championship for the world’s most sarcastic human being, he would instantly sign you up. There was no doubt that you’d take home the no.1 trophy in that category (not that you weren’t already taking home trophies in other competitions, of course, he overheard that you recently dominated an advanced maths competition).
“I— I’m sorry!” The student shivered under your piercing gaze. “I— I won’t touch him again, I promise—!”
The laugh you responded with was overly sweet, combined with something from a Disney movie villain. If the movie also, by chance, happened to have ‘horror’ as its’ genre. Your eyes carried a maniacal threat that Suna believed wholeheartedly that you were capable of carrying out. “Bold of you to assume I’d even let you do it again.” You whispered, just loud enough for Suna to catch your words.
The junior high student scrambled off, too busy getting away to notice Suna by the entrance of the alley. He slipped away before you reappeared at the beginning of the alley, having fixed your hair and flattened your skirt.
You looked like a snake that had just finished a very satisfying meal. Suna could hardly believe that he had just heard you— the pride and joy of every teacher, the ‘perfect student’— spitting insults and threats at 200 words per minute, all while maintaining a ‘polite’ and ‘sweet’ tone.
He was a little breathless after the whole ordeal. He could barely imagine what you would say to him if you’d caught him listening— But damn, part of him wanted to find out if he could withstand your literature-form venom. Truly, you were a snake— A creature that could hold its’ elegance even as your tore your prey apart (verbally).
Suna always liked snakes.
»»——⍟——««
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with L/N, Kita.” Aran teased, Suna overhearing as he stepped into the locker room for morning practice. Freezing in his tracks, the middle blocker curved right round the bend, staying out of sight. “There’s been a lot of rumours about how nice the two of you look together.”
The volleyball captain only hummed in response, which, for some reason, pissed the hell out of Suna.
“Come on, tell me something.” The other third-year complained. “She’s really pretty, I’d totally see why you’d go for her.”
Something about the situation made Suna’s blood boil. He bit back his rising anger, setting aside the cause for the moment. Why was he getting so riled up? He never cared much about things in general, anyway, so... So why was the image of you and Kita, matching polite smiles on your lips— Why did it make him so furious he had to physically resist the urge to punch a wall?
“The two of you do look nice together, though.” Aran continued as Suna pushed down the urge to strangle his upperclass-man. “Gives me the vibes of—”
Before Aran could finish his sentence, the dark-haired middle blocker marched into the locker room, apologising for how loudly he had slammed the door open. “Sorry.” He drawled lazily, restraining the lava-hot anger in his blood. “I pushed too hard.”
»»——⍟——««
You didn’t even blink, much less jump when Suna appeared abruptly by your desk. Instead, you simply set down your pencil and gave him a warm smile. “Can I help you with something?”
Ever the helpful class president, Suna bit back to himself. No, no, he wanted you to like him. Not get a bad impression of him. “Do you... Think you could help me with the physics homework?”
“It’s due tomorrow.” You said slowly, both of you aware that the assignment was well over forty pages. “Have you... Tried it?”
“Yes.” He answered. “I’ve got a few questions I need help with. Are you free to stay back today?”
This raised a tentative eyebrow from you. “Don’t you have volleyball practice?”
Dammit, why did you have to have such a good memory.
“Academics are more important than the club sometimes.” He shrugged. “I’ve got permission to skip.” No, he didn’t.
“Alright then. I’ll meet you in the library after school.”
»»——⍟——««
He watched you through hooded eyes as you reviewed his work. So you did know how to let loose, Suna murmured to himself in amusement, eyeing your untucked blouse and the beige sweater you’d thrown on in a defence against the library’s air-conditioning.
“You’ve got most of the parts down, which bits do you need help with?”
The rest of the time was spent going over the questions, your patience filling the silence along with his occasional ‘ohs’. Your handwriting flooded through his homework in neat rows, providing an easy-to-follow, step-by-step guide on how to work through the questions, for revision purposes.
“So.”
You broke the silence, the two of you walking side by side, leaving the school together because he offered to buy you some food as a payment for the tutoring.
“Are you going to tell me why you faked confusion and asked me to tutor you?”
He winced. How could he forget that you were always straight to the point?
“What do you mean?” The look on your face clearly said ‘feigning ignorance, eh?’.
“I’m going to be frank with you,” You deadpanned. “You’re among the best at physics in our class. Some of the questions you asked me to help you through were ones that had been discussed in classes, and I know that you are listening even though you have your head on the table.”
Alright, so he had under-predicted exactly how observant and attentive you were.
“Then why did you agree to help me?”
“You saw me that day, didn’t you?”
He stopped walking. “Which day?”
“That day. In our first year. When I threatened that junior high kid in the alley.” You stopped too, to turn your expressionless gaze on him. “You’ve looked at me differently since that day. I heard someone else’s breathing at the alley, but I didn’t see anyone so I figured they’d ran. I guessed it was you.”
“... Yeah.”
“You don’t seem to mind.”
“Mind what?”
“The fact that this...” You gestured to yourself. “Is a lie. This whole ‘perfect student’ image is an act that I put up to please my parents. I’m actually someone who has really mean thoughts. I could be a really toxic friend. I’m also probably a sadist.”
Suna blinked quietly at you, running your words through his head a couple more times for good measure. “You remind me of a snake.”
In that one sentence, you realised that if there was one person in the world that was going to be fine with your personality the way it was, that person would probably be Suna Rintarou. The two of you continued your walk to the takoyaki shop Suna offered to buy you food from, continuing meaningless chatter on the journey.
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“I like snakes.”
“That’s cool. Me too.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I think they’re pretty cool. They’re like spiders, except they’re not insects. I don’t like insects very much.”
“Hmm. I like snakes cause I think they’re really elegant. And pretty.” He paused for a moment. “Like you.”
»»——⍟——««
taglist. @mrs-kuroojinguji @procrastination-lady @miel-meraki @shoyosun @aka-a-shii @shibayamasbae @churochuu @seijohlogy @dearsukuna @whootwhoot
Haikyuu!! gen taglist. @owlywrites @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @our-tall-slytherin-queen
#suna rintarou#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fluff#what even is this#fluff?#suna rintarō#suna#suna x reader#inarizaki#inarizaki x reader#cady writesss «#cadowly's songfic december
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The Pull (106/?)
Summary: The Ragnulf’s are one of the oldest lines of werewolves known. A gift from ancient times was gifted to them. Though not all of the line will experience it. There are some who will experience a Pull. This Pull leads them to their true mate, a soulmate. The problem is, just because the wolf finds their true mate does not mean that they are the same for that person.
Author: @lettersofwrittencollective
Pairing: Stiles x Hale!Cousin OC (Reader)
Word count: 2336
Warnings: i think this is just angst at this point? But also not really??
Additional A/N: If you see *** at any point this means that there is a POV and /or location change (like a scene change in a show) and this is a thing that is going to be going on going forward, okay thanks!
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Derek had taken the group of you to the loft, letting you get cleaned up. You were grateful that he’d done so because it meant that you were able to get out of the gasoline drenched clothing .
Derek had pulled you to the side while Scott and the pack tried to decide what to do about the now apparently everywhere Deadpool and informed you that he was reaching out to Aaric and your dad.
“And what exactly do you think that’s going to accomplish?” you growl at Derek, “You’re here, Peter’s here...Stiles’ Dad is-”
“It’s going to keep you alive!” Derek cuts you off, hissing at you, “It’s going to keep the others alive,” Derek points out, your growling having absolutely no effect on him. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you were almost lit on fire earlier.”
You’re about to bite back at Derek that this was entirely not his call. These weren’t your family's lands to protect and for you to call in your father would be an insult that Scott might not understand now… but the rest of the supernatural world would… and eventually, so would he… This was Scott’s home but before you could say anything else, Scott’s telling all of you, “Kira found Brett,”
“Wait, Kira’s back?” you question and he nods his head. You’re happy to hear she’s here and honestly can’t wait till you get to see her. Malia, thankfully, brings everyone back on track. “Well is he okay?”
“They’re fine,” Scott answers, “But we’ve got to go.”
Malia nods her head and immediately makes her way out of the loft. You’re about to follow but the pups voice catches your attention and makes you stop.
“More assassins?” he’s asking and you can hear the waver in his voice. When Scott confirms that there might be a lot more, he clarifies, “and they’re different than the ones who just tried to set us on fire?”
“Pup,” you call out as you take a step towards him and Liam’s eyes turn to you. They’re glassy and worried and if the sight of them alone hadn’t been enough to break your heart, Liam’s next words do.
With a shake of his head, he tells you, “I’m not like you guys and I don’t mean I’m not strong or I’m never gonna learn how to be in control I mean everything else. You guys… you all try to protect everyone. Have you been doing that the whole time?”
You don’t answer him because if you’re being honest, this isn’t how you were at home. It’s not that you didn’t have troubles at home… it was that you had a pack that could protect your home. There were people in your pack that were designated to take care of the kinds of problems you’d been running into since coming to Beacon Hills. What Scott… what Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Derek... and Ali… What they’ve been doing since before you met them was insane if you thought about it.
“How are you all still alive?” the pups voice breaks you out of your thoughts.
“Not all of are,” Scott answers, making your breath catch in your throat and you know that he’s thinking of Alli and of Aiden… and how they haven’t gotten through the last few years without losses. You haven’t gotten out without losses.
If Aaric hadn’t been there… well things could have been worse. You turn to look at Derek who’s giving you a very pointed look and you realize that if you don’t tell your dad and Aaric and Ro… if you don’t ask for help… any more deaths are on your hands.
Nodding your head, you hear Scott offer to take Liam home when you get a text from Lydia telling you ta call her immediately.
***
“I’m completely and totally fine,” Stiles points out to Melissa as he tries to step past her.
“Uh-uh-uh.” Melissa tells him as she steps back into the doorway and puts her hands up, stopping him in his tracks, “You completely and totally have a concussion, Stiles. Lie back down. The doctor said you're not leaving without a CT scan.
“We still haven’t paid for the last one,” he points out.
Melissa’s face scrunches in confusion and she shakes her head, “Yes you have.”
“What? No, we haven’t,” Stiles counters but before he can counter there’s another voice. One that makes his heart soar.
“It’s been taken care of… either way you’re staying here Sti,” Natasha’s voice grumbles at him as she walks up behind Melissa.
“But what about-”
“Your dad’s got Meredith at the station,” she tells him as Melissa moves slightly so that Tasha can step into the room, kissing him softly, his arms immediately wrapping themselves around her, before she continues, “He said it could take some time to get her to talk and Lydia has promised that as soon as she does talk, she’ll call us.”
“Well finally,” Melissa’s voice pulls his attention and he sees the woman he considers a mother smiling at the two of them with a hand on her hip and a knowing smile stretched across her lips. She turns her attention directly to Stiles and points out, “So even if I let you go, what would you do?”
He wants to argue but knows he’s not gonna get away with it. Sighing, he agrees, “Okay fine. But can you do me one little favor?”
“Anything,” Melissa immediately answers and he asks her for a tape player.
“Tape player?” he hears Tasha ask as Melissa clarifies, “ Like cassettes?”
“Yes. Tapes,” Stiles confirms with a nod of his head and Melissa tells him she’ll see what she can do before heading out, closing the door behind her.
“Why do you need a cassette player?” Tasha asks as he feels her hands come up on either side of his neck. Biting back a groan, he glances down and sees her face scrunched in concentration.
“Lobita,” he groans, the nickname falling from his lips almost like second nature, and is rewarded with her sparkling lavender eyes snapping up to his, “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you’re okay,” she answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“That I’m okay?” he clarifies and she nods her head at him.
“Lydia said that Brunski was an ass... Apparently, he punched you?”
“He did,” he confirms for her.
Her hand comes up to cup the side of his face and Stiles can feel himself practically melt into her. Her thumb is trailing along his skin soothingly before he smiles and turns to kiss the inside of her palm.
“What happened with Jax?” he asks her and he can feel her stiffen against him. He can feel himself begin to worry that maybe, just maybe, she had changed her mind but then- she had kissed him when she came in.
Natasha pulled away from him slightly, but only her body, keeping her arms wrapped around him an he watched as she bit at her lip for a moment.
“Alright, good news is that Jax gets it, apparently he expected it,” she begins and Stiles is about to ask why she seems so worried but she moves a hand to his lips, “But I have to tell you something.”
You tell him about
***
Lydia’s at the station waiting for Noah to finish the interview with Meredith. She’s not entirely sure what she expects to happen or how she expects the evening to go but the reality is that they need answers.
Biting at her nails, she begins to do the math.
Really, they’re a bunch of kids that are going up a bunch of assassins. She wonders if, perhaps, she should talk to Natasha about reaching out to her dad. Surely the Ragnulf’s would be willing to help them… right?
She see’s Noah walking out of his office and immediately makes her way over, “What did she say?”
“Hard to tell…” he answers, “There were words. I’m not sure there were actual sentences.”
“Nothing…” Lydia sighs in frustration .
“I think we need a psychologist,” he hears Sheriff mutters, “Or a medium.”
Lydia’s tempted to laugh because really, what has her world become? Instead, she just scoffs, “Is she even competent enough to be charged with anything?”
“Hey!” she hears Noah scold her, “If Meredith is The Benefactor, then that means she was competent enough to trick Kate into opening the Hale Vault, competent enough to blackmail Brunski into helping her, and competent enough to create a hit list and pay out money for it’s completion - demanding proof. Girls practically a criminal mastermind.”
Pulling her phone out, she calls Natasha who answers pretty instantly, “Whats up Lyds?”
“Nothing… she’s.. She’s not talking,” Lydia answers the brunette.
“She’s not giving you anything? Not even a reason?” Natasha’s voice comes through the phone.
Stiles’ chuckle comes through the phone before he speaks up, “Dad’s only gonna be interested in the ‘why’ if it tells him the ‘how.’”
“You mean how to stop it?” Lydia clarifies and she watches Sheriff nod his head.
He must realize that Natasha and Stiles can’t see him because he points out, “Exactly and after what happened to Tasha, Scott and the others… this thing’s still going. The payments could be automatic. And as long as the killers are getting paid, and paid very well, that list is gonna keep getting smaller.”
“So we don’t need to just stop the Dead Pool…” Natasha begins before Stiles finishes, “We gotta stop the money.”
***
Scott parks his bike before he jumps off and is rushing in to the clinic. Kira must hear him because a moment later she’s at the reception area.
Scott can feel the relief at having her in front of him, safe. Pulling her into his arms he kisses her for all that he’s worth. Pulling away from her, he cups her face and moves a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “Is your mom…”
“Safe,” she answers, instantly, “Healing.”
“What about you?” he asks and Kira gives him a questioning look, confusion evident in her face and her scent so he clarifies, “Are you okay?”
“Right now? Very…” Kira replies before she’s pressing her lips to his again and Scotts grateful to have her here. To have her in his arms but a moment later, he remembers why he’s here and he forces himself to focus on that, “Did you find him? Did you find Brett?”
“Actually… I think I found all of them,” she tells him as she leads him to teh back of the office. As they near it, she calls out, “Satomi, this is who I was telling you about.”
“I know who Scott McCall is,” Satomi answers as he and Kira enter the back room. The other Alpha’s eyes heavy on him.
For the first time since he’s been faced with another Alpha, he feels liek the hairs on the back of his neck want to stand up and he feels like a part of him is somehow… more alert.
“Are we safe here?” a voice asks and Scott glances around, realizing that he’s actually surrounded by a multitude of other wolves. Most of the beta’s from the scent of it. Somehow he knows that none of them are warriors.
“We’re gonna need help,” he realizes, “A lot of help”
***
Throwing the guardsman into the door, they wait for half a beat before stepping into the old shipping house.
Argents got his gun ready and when he feels a body behind him he hits them with the butt of his gun, by the sound of it he connects with the head which means they’ll be out cold.
He hears Alarics low growl before the man beside him has moved to a wall. The man seems to be inspectiing it for half a second before he slams hsi hand through it, effectively smashing the wall and pulling out two more men.
He’s grabbed each of the men by their necks and is lifting them so that their feet are dangling in the air as they seem to scratch atAlaric’s hands.
“Alaric,” Chris calls out as he sees the older man moving his arms apart. He can hear the other man scoff as he slames the two bodies into each other, knocking them both out.
“They’ll be fine,” Alaric points out, “A headache like a bitch but they’re not dead.”
Chuckling softly, Argent shakes his head before making his way over to one of the doors.
Getting here had been a bitch in and of itself, the place was damn near impenetrable. At least it would have been if it hadn’t been for Alaric’s skills and his combined. They had gotten in and now they just had to find the damn thing,
Opening the sliding door, he nodded his head, “Found it.”
Row and row upon different plans lined the place. Most of it was wolfsbane but there was also Lilies, Sago Palm, Narcissus Bulbs, Azalea, Oleander, Cyclamen, Yew, Amaryllis and many others that he knew could be used to harm supernatural creatures
“Some of these are lethal,” Alarics voice spoke up and Argent nodded his head.
“You know if we get rid of this, “ Argent points out, “More’ll just pop up. Security will be tighter.”
“Don’t matter,” Alaric answers him with an affirmative humm, “We’ll take those out too. The Albini haven’t scared us before and we won’t start now. Grab the wolfsbane.”
Argent makes his way towards the plant.
The Ragnulfs had a plan. Apparently there was an idea for possibly using the plant to find a way to either innoculate against it or engineer some kind of… some kind of way to fight it.
Grabbing the yellow plant he tucks it away so they can get it back to the Ragnulf compound.
He’s going to ask to hold onto some… there are, after all, even some wolves the Ragnulfs will hunt down and he’s sure they won't deny him fault him for it.
-
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The Pull Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @teen--marvel @kiwihoee @thegirlwhoimagined @bolaurel @missindecision @stixnstripesworld
@bolaurel
#Teen Wolf rewrite#teen wolf x oc#stiles Stilinski#stiles#stasha#stiles x natasha#stiles x original female character#stiles stilinksi x original female character#written as an insert#second POV
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I Need You
Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader
Summary: The relationship through the years
Requested: No
Warnings: Swearing, just a lot of fluff, mentions of anxiety
A/N: This is probably the longest fic I’ve ever written I got a bit carried away so I apologise - sorry if any of the times/ages are wrong! Just go with it! I’m kinda exhausted writing this so I was trying to do the kinda basic maths in my head and it just gave me a headache but please excuse any issues with age that there may be! Also I’m actually really happy with this one and it made me hella soft writing it so I hope you enjoy! Please remember to like, comment, reblog, send asks and just let me know what you thought of it!
~~ 2008, Age 12 ~~
Y/N’s face was scrunched up with nerves as she waited for the bus to arrive. The previous two days her mother had driven her to school, Y/N too nervous to get the bus in. But then the boy who lived down the street had asked her during school why she didn’t get the bus to school like he did.
Y/N had shyly admitted to the boy - Michael, that was his name - that she was nervous about it.
“You came!” Michael’s grin was wide when he arrived at the bus stop. Y/N’s lips up into a nervous smile and she nodded mutely. “Here!” He thrust a bottle at her. “My mum gave me two orange juices and told me to give the other to Cal but you can have it instead,” Michael gave her an innocent smile and Y/N took the bottle.
“Thank you,” she said nervously but she clammed up again the moment the bus pulled into the stop.
Michael bounded onto the bus before her, leaving Y/N behind.
“You coming, love?” The bus driver asked, a kind smile on her face. Y/N looked around her, noticing that she was the only child who had yet to get on the bus at her stop and gave an embarrassed, awkward nod of her head.
Her steps were shaky when she stepped onto the bus. She flinched as the door shut behind her.
It was the typical kind of school bus, the exact same formation as it had been like at her old school at her old home town - the youngest pupils at the front and the eldest at the back.
Y/N was just going into year 7, as was Michael, so she knew that she ought to sit at the front but she didn’t know where.
It was the start of spring term, Y/N having moved house late in the year meaning that she didn’t know anyone other than Michael.
There were some empty seats next to other year 7s but Y/N wasn’t sure whether they’d allow her to sit next to them or not.
“Y/N! Come sit here!” She was relieved to hear Michael’s voice calling to her from one of the three seaters, where he was sat in the middle seat with a friend next to him at the window, an empty seat on the aisle.
Y/N practically fell into the seat next to Michael, giving him a thankful, exhausted smile.
“This is Calum! We’ve known each other since primary school!” Michael introduced.
“Mike said he gave you my orange juice,” Calum said, looking to Y/N with a hurt expression and her eyes widened, her jaw slackening and she was quick to hold out the juice to him, not wanting to make any enemies in her first week. Calum looked at the bottle before his face broke into a wide grin, shaking his head. “I was just joking.”
“Y/N just moved here,” Michael informed Calum who nodded.
“You’re in my History class, right?” He asked and Y/N’s eyes flashed with recognition and she nodded.
“Yeah,” she confirmed timidly.
“You should sit with me!” He told her and Michael frowned.
“Why aren’t you ever that excited to sit next to me?” He accused his best friend and Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her.
~~ 2009, Age 13 ~~
“Everything sucks and I want to die,” Y/N looked at Michael for a moment in silence before nodding.
“This is why we don’t talk too much,” she informed him and Michael scoffed.
“So not the reason,” he grumbled.
“No the reason is that Y/N has other friends,” Y/N couldn’t stop herself from smiling when she heard Calum’s voice and she turned around, watching him take the final few steps towards them in the lunch hall.
“I still sit with you guys on the bus every day,” she pointed out and Michael pointed at her with his fork
“Good - don’t you fucking dare forget your roots,” he said through a mouthful of food, making Y/N wrinkle her nose in disgust and she looked over at Calum to see a similar expression on his face. “I’m the only reason you have friends here,” he insisted, shovelling more food into his mouth,
“I forget why I sat with you today,” Y/N said to him.
“Because you knew I’d be here?” Calum offered with a cheesy grin.
“Because we were your best choice since Sandy’s being a bitch?” Michael offered instead and Y/N stuck her tongue out at her friend. “How mature.”
“Fuck you, Mikey.”
“You were nicer when you were anxious all the time.”
Y/N was friends with Calum and Michael - for the first half of term that Y/N was at the school the boys essentially took her under their wing, showing her around the school and introducing her to new people. But after that Y/N made her own friends, a group that ran in similar circles to Calum and Michael but they weren’t one group.
Despite that, though, they still sat together on the bus every morning and evening and her and Michael still walked to and from the bus stop together. Michael’s mum still provided Y/N and Calum with a bottle of something to drink on the bus in the morning and the three of them did still hang out together, just not as often as they had when Y/N was still a new student.
“Heard you’re planning on trying out for the football team?” Y/N mentioned, looking over at Calum, who had just taken a bite from his sandwich and he nodded, his eyes bright.
“Yeah! Next week!”
“That’s amazing, Cal!”
The fluttering in their chests was inevitable, really.
~~ 2010, Age 14 ~~
Calum looked up, surprised when Y/N slid into the seat next to him on the bus.
“Mike’s ill,” she said awkwardly. “It’s... I’m still okay to sit here, right?”
“Of course it’s okay,” Calum laughed and Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at how adorable he looked when he smiled. “Has he just never been sick since you started here?” He questioned and Y/N shrugged.
“I guess so.”
Silence fell between the two friends for a moment and then Y/N nodded towards Calum’s headphones.
“What’re you listening to?”
“All Time Low,” there was a pause before Calum asked: “want to listen?”
“Is that okay?”
“You’ve not been this nervous around me since we first met,” Calum informed her and Y/N smiled, moving over into Michael’s usual seat, close enough to Calum so that they could listen to the music together.
“I like this album,” she admitted quietly.
“If you didn’t we’d have serious issues.”
Y/N smiled, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
“Thanks for letting me listen,” Y/N said when they pulled into school and Calum shrugged.
“I saw you haven’t have yours for a while.”
“Yeah - the dog chewed them up,” she saw Calum’s eyes light up at the mention of her dog.
“How is Alan?” He asked as the two of them got off the bus.
“Misses you, Cal,” she assured, giggling.
“I miss him,” Calum sighed longingly.
“You can come over any time and see him,” Y/N pointed out. Calum smiled at her and nodded.
“I might take you up on that,” silence fell between them as they walked together towards the school.
Normally by this point in the morning Y/N would have left Calum and Michael to seek out her other friends and the two boys would go to the music room or Calum would have an early morning team meeting for football.
But this morning was different - this morning, neither of them wanted to leave the other.
Without Michael there, it was easier to get wrapped up in one another’s presence.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Calum’s hands were playing nervously with the straps of his bag, refusing to look over at his friend.
“Yeah?”
“Would you maybe wanna see a movie together, or something?”
“We’re going to see one with Mike this weekend,” Y/N pointed out, laughing a little. “You already asked me, Cal.”
“No! No, i mean... one without him?” Calum offered awkwardly, clearly feeling he had gone too far now to go back on his question. “Like... just the two of us?” Y/N stopped in her tracks, staring wide-eyed at Calum.
“Are you... Cal, are you asking me on a date?” He looked up at last to meet her eyes, anxiety dancing in his. Y/N began to feel her own anxiety building up in her stomach, which was strange, she hadn’t felt nervous around Calum since the day that they first met. “Because... Because if you were,” she spoke again when she realised that Calum wasn’t going to clarify what he meant. “I’d... um I’d like that.”
~~ 2011 Age 15 ~~
“So you’ve found a drummer now?” Y/N asked from her seat in the music room, where she was watching Calum, Michael and their friend Luke tuning their instruments.
“Yeah - Michael found him,” Luke confirmed, giving a shy smile to Calum’s girlfriend.
Luke had been introduced to Y/N a few months ago by Michael and Calum as the guitarist in the band they were forming and yet the two of them were still painfully awkward around one another.
Not for Luke’s lack of trying, he was putting a lot of effort into befriending Y/N but she was constantly nervous when it came to talking to new people, even those who had been so highly talked of by her boyfriend and Michael.
“He’s called Ashton,” Michael supplied before looking to Calum with an unimpressed look on his face. “Don’t you tell your girlfriend anything?”
“No,” Calum shrugged, a smirk growing on his face. “All we talk about is how fucking annoying you are,” Calum looked over at his girlfriend when she snorted with laughter, her hands flying to her mouth in shock from the noise she had just made.
Calum bit his lip to stop himself from laughing and shook his head, affection evident in his actions.
“Well when we hang out we just talk about how much she regrets saying yes to your date,” Michael countered, challenging Calum.
Luke looked over at Y/N.
“Are they...?”
“Yeah,” Y/N filled in nodding with a sigh. “They’re always like this.”
“Only because Mike’s bitter that I asked out Y/N before he could,” Calum gloated arrogantly and Luke and Y/N burst out into laughter at the look of disgust on Michael’s face.
“Should I be offended that you’re that against dating me, Mike?” The young boy rolled his eyes.
“Whatever - girls have cooties anyway.”
~~ 2012, Age 16 ~~
Y/N was sat on Calum’s bed, watching him pack.
He was chatting away happily to her, eager to tell her all of his plans for exploring London while he was away. Telling her all about the plans that the band had for their debut album that they were planning on recording since their first single and EP had been such a hit.
His eyes were bright and sparkling with excitement as he continued to go on about all of his plans.
Y/N just watched and listened, nodding her head and making noises of agreement whenever it seemed appropriate.
Calum paused for breath, his cheeks flushed with excitement and he turned to face her, his smile so heartbreakingly wide.
“Isn’t it insane?”
Y/N nodded her head, trying to muster up excitement. Because she was excited. Of course she was excited both for Calum and the rest of the guys.
She had known Calum and Michael since they were all eleven and being in a band, recording albums, touring was all that they had ever dreamed of and now two thirds of that was already coming true and they were only fourteen, fifteen and sixteen.
“I’m really happy for you, Cal,” Y/N confirmed, her voice gentle and a little sad. Calum’s face dropped into a frown and he sat next to her on his bed, his arm resting around her shoulder.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah I just... I’m going to miss you,” she admitted, resting her own head on his shoulder.
“We’re not going to be gone for long,” he promised her.
“Come on, Cal, you have to realise by now that you guys are gonna be big, right?” Calum snorted a laugh at that.
“Yeah, well, we’re never going to forget our number one fan.”
“You can’t, Liz is going with you,” Y/N deadpanned, pride filling her chest when Calum started to laugh.
“It’s going to be weird not having you there,” Calum mused. “Who’s going to tell Michael that he sucks on the daily?”
“It’s okay, Cal, an ocean isn’t going to stop me from ensuring Mike’s head doesn’t get too big.”
“Well there’s a relief.”
~~ 2013, Age 17 ~~
“That’s amazing!” Y/N congratulated, amazement and pride filling her chest.
The previous two months had been interesting for them to say the least, with Calum in London with the band song writing and collaborating with other, UK-based artists.
Y/N missed him - of course she missed the band as well, the three boys who she had become close with since the band had formed and she had met Luke and Ashton, and Michael who she had seen every day since she was twelve - but she wasn’t ashamed to admit she had missed Calum the most.
It was strange. They were so young and yet, they had spent nearing three years of their lives calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend. Too young to know about love and yet... that was what this was. Love in its purest, most innocent form.
“I can’t quite believe it,” Calum admitted and even with an ocean between them on a crappy phone connection Y/N could hear his smile. See his expression.
“I’m so proud of you.”
“Want a confession?” Calum asked, just a hint of guilt in his voice but amusement being the overlying tone.
“What?”
“I haven’t told my parents yet,” silence fell over the line for a moment before Y/N burst out laughing.
“Cal!”
“I’m sorry!”
“Don’t tell them that you told me first or they’ll be so offended!”
“I promise,” Calum chuckled.
“You’re still coming home next week, right?” Y/N asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two teenagers.
“Yeah,” Calum confirmed. “And on the tour we’ll be playing in Sydney and the One Direction guys promised that they could get you a good ticket.”
“Man... I can’t believe you’re touring with One Direction,” Y/N reiterated and she heard her boyfriend release a long breath on the other side of the line.
“Neither can I,” his voice was a whisper.
“Hate to be that bitch but... I told you you were going to be big.”
“Mum did always say that I should listen to you,” Calum teased, causing Y/N to let out a gentle laugh.
“You can repay me by getting Louis’ autograph.”
Y/N had been joking at the time, but she wasn’t particularly surprised when Calum returned a week later and brought out a prototype shirt for the ‘Take Me Home’ tour which had been signed by all five members of One Direction.
~~ 2014, Age 18 ~~
Y/N’s arms were around Calum the moment he stepped out of the airport gate. Her boyfriend laughed, dropping his bags to the ground and wrapping his arms around her waist, nestling his face into her neck.
“Shit, you’re really here,” she mumbled and Calum’s arms tightened a little. If Y/N didn’t know any better she would have thought he was crying.
“I’m really here,” he confirmed. Y/N went to pull away but Calum wouldn’t let her. “Just give me a second,” he pleaded.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want the fans to see I’m crying,” he admitted bashfully and Y/N laughed.
“Calum Hood? Crying?” She teased and Calum laughed, pulling back but only so that he could kiss her for the first time in months.
“Fuck off,” he mumbled, resting their foreheads heavily together.
“I like the hair by the way,” Y/N added. “Very punk rock.”
“You know what I didn’t miss you,” Calum said decisively, pulling away from her, but the smile on his lips contrasted his words entirely.
“I wasn’t joking! I do like it!” She promised, her hands reaching up to gently comb through the curls. Calum’s face softened and he ducked down to kiss her again.
“I’m so glad I’m home,” he confessed and Y/N laughed a little into his mouth.
“I am too - but I’m sure your family is as well,” she pointed out.
When Calum went to go greet his parents, Joy pulling him into a bone crushing hug, Michael’s arms slipped around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her into his chest.
“Miss me?” He asked and Y/N laughed, turning around to hug her friend.
“It’s so good to see you all again!”
“Is that us included?” Ashton piped up, looking over to Michael and Y/N with raised eyebrows.
“Not you.” Ashton giggled and walked over, wrapping his arms around Y/N and Michael, who were still hugging. Luke was swift to join in. “You guys stink!” Y/N groaned, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
“Bloody rude,” Ashton commented as the three bandmates released her.
Calum reached over and interlaced their fingers, pulling Y/N back to his side.
“You two ready to go for food?” Joy asked, a knowing look sent to the couple. Calum pressed his lips to Y/N’s forehead and nodded.
~~ 2015, Age 19 ~~
“I’ve missed this,” Calum admitted, the two of them walking down the road, their hands linked together, swinging slightly where they hung between them. Y/N’s dog, Alan, was bounding down the road in front of them, knowing the path to the park well, able to quite contentedly lead the way, the couple following him.
“Yeah? You over your rockstar life already?” Y/N teased, squeezing Calum’s hand and he let out a soft laugh at her question, shaking his head.
“You’re really annoying sometimes, you know? Like, honestly, every time I even try and be cute you have to go and ruin it.”
“You trying to be cheesy and cute makes me uncomfortable because you’ve always been a bit of a shit to me,” Y/N told him, a serious expression on her face, which cracked the moment Calum shot her an offended look.
“It’s one hundred percent the other way around,” Calum grumbled.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Y/N scoffed.
“You and Ash have been taking the piss out of me ever since you first got introduced,” Calum claimed.
“Yeah - thanks for introducing us, by the way. I love Ash,” Calum burst out laughing at her tone, tugging on her hand to bring her closer so that he could kiss her temple.
“I’d say ‘you’re welcome’ but I do think that it’s the dumbest move I’ve ever made.”
Silence fell between them again as they followed Alan into the park. The outing made both Y/N and Calum feel somewhat nostalgic - walking Alan together around the park was something that they had done as dates since they got together and before they were together Michael would also join them after school.
Of course, all the band had tagged along at some point or another when Y/N went to walk her family dog but it was Calum’s favourite thing for them to do as a casual date - Y/N was insistent that it was because he preferred Alan to her, to which Calum never responded to other than to laugh.
“I’ve missed this too,” she finally confirmed, gently squeezing his hand again. “Walking Alan’s just not the same without you.”
~~ 2016, Age 20 ~~
“I’m so in love with you,” Calum’s words were whispered into Y/N’s hair. Calum’s arms were wrapped tightly around her, keeping her safe and secure, as close to him as he could physically manage to keep her.
A secret between the two of them. So much of his life now was public, had been since he was sixteen. Y/N and their relationship was the one thing now that felt private, that made him feel safe.
Even his friendship with Michael, the one he had had for as long as he could remember, was in the public eye, no longer with the privacy of inside jokes to hide behind.
He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost Y/N.
And he almost had.
Or at least, he thought he had.
Y/N had flown out to stay with him and the other guys on tour, having just finished university for the year and having the whole summer to do whatever she wanted, until she had to go back for the start of term in late September.
It was the first time she had been with him for anything other than the Australian leg of the tour and the two of them had been looking forward to it, planning it for months.
But it had all come crashing down so quickly.
Y/N wasn’t used to the same lifestyle as Calum anymore. She was used to the paparazzi following them around home occasionally, fans coming up and asking for pictures when they were together but nothing could have prepared her for tour.
Everything was publicised, all the time. Nothing felt private anymore. Y/N had never felt so exposed in her whole life and she despised it.
Y/N had panicked. They had gotten separated in a crowd of fans and Y/N had had a full blown panic attack, which Calum hadn’t seen happen because he was the other side of the crowd, taking photos. Ashton had found her and brought her safely back to the bus, where she had sat shaking with nervous energy, waiting for the boys to return.
Calum was the first through the door to the tour bus, rushing over to his girlfriend, eyes wide with worry as he tried to get a grasp on her mental state.
Y/N had assured him she was fine and Calum hated himself for dragging her into this kind of life, which she had never asked for.
“I love you too, Cal,” Y/N promised, nuzzling closer to him. They had taken themselves off to their bunk early, wanting to recover from the stress of the day. Normally they would at least pretend for a little while that they would be sleeping in separate bunks to avoid the teasing of their friends but they were both unwilling to leave the others side after the previous events.
“But... are you sure this is what you want?” Y/N rolled over so that she was hovering on top of him and if Calum hadn’t been caught up in his own thoughts and fears about their relationship he would be astounded by how gorgeous he thought she looked.
“Cal, I’ve loved you since we were thirteen... I’m not... of course this is what I want,” she settled on, leaning down to kiss him gently. “You’re what I want.”
“But this... this isn’t what you agreed to when we first started going out,” he pointed out, gesturing with his free hand around them at the tour bus and he watched as Y/N just shrugged.
“No - but it’s what I signed up for now, Cal... you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
~~ 2017, Age 21 ~~
“It’s nice that you’re finally taking a break,” Y/N mentioned, watching Calum bustle around his kitchen from her place sat on top of the breakfast bar.
Y/N normally did most of the cooking when they were together - she would joke about the only reason Calum inviting her down to spend her holidays with him was because she would cook for him.
But this morning, Calum had insisted on cooking her breakfast. Y/N had put up little fight and allowed Calum to do as he pleased, deciding on cooking pancakes for the two of them.
“Yeah - it gives us the time to actually properly think about this album, you know?” Y/N nodded in understanding. She knew how hectic the past few years for Calum and the band had been and she knew that they weren’t necessarily with all the songs they released as they could be had they just had a little more time.
It was also nice for them to be taking some extra time off and to themselves because it meant that she got to see Calum more with him flying himself to her university, her being able to get to LA and it was nice being able to see him so much.
“Okay, so I know it’s early to be asking this,” Calum stated, turning around with two plates of pancakes in hand. He stopped short though when he saw where Y/N was sat. “Can’t you just sit at a chair like a normal person for once in your life?” He sighed and Y/N laughed, moving off of the counter and taking a plate from Calum, pecking his lips.
“Thank you for breakfast,” she responded, sitting at the table. Calum rolled his eyes and sat opposite her.
“As I was saying,” he went back to his previous train of thought, shaking his head a little at his girlfriend’s antics, adoration swimming in his eyes. “I was thinking about us,” Y/N froze. She knew those words were almost never good. Calum picked up on her sudden nerves and reached over the table to grab her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it as he knew always soothed her. “Nothing bad, baby, I promise. Nothing bad,” he prefaced and Y/N nodded, letting out the breath she had been holding.
“If you say it’s nothing bad and now break up with me I’m going to kick your ass, Hood.” She mumbled, listening to Calum start to laugh.
“What I was going to ask is if you want to move in together when you’re done with uni?” Silence fell between them for a moment and Y/N nodded hesitantly.
“I do...”
“Is there a but?” Calum asked, his heart sinking at her expression. Y/N grimaced a little.
“I’m... where would we live? I... I’m not sure I want to live in LA, Cal.”
Calum moved his hand in hers so that they were holding hands more properly and he squeezed it gently.
“Hey, that’s okay - we’ll figure it out, yeah? Reach a compromise?” Y/N nodded again, a nervous smile forming on her face.
“Then yeah - lets do it.” Calum beamed, leaning right across the table so that he could kiss her.
The couple were broken out of their bubble by the sound of Calum’s apartment door opening and gasps of delight coming from his band members, who just regularly invited themselves around.
“Nice! You made pancakes!”
~~ 2018 Age 22 ~~
Y/N shifted from foot to foot in front of Ashton’s house, waiting for him to answer the door.
She had gotten a call from Calum about an hour ago during work, imploring her to come over the moment she was finished because he missed her.
Luke had taken the phone from him pretty quickly and insisted she bring alcohol with her as they were running out at Ashton’s house.
As Luke spoke to her, Y/N could hear Calum complaining in the background, which had made her laugh.
Calum always was a clingy drunk.
“Oh thank fuck you’re here!” Michael exclaimed, reaching out of the door and pulling Y/N inside.
“You good, Mike?”
“Cal’s being complaining about you not being here for hours,” Michael groaned, dragging Y/N behind him into the kitchen.
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the scene in front of her. It had turned into a small party in Ashton’s kitchen. Calum, Luke, Ashton and Michael all had dazed looks in their eyes, their smiles slightly dopy and their laughs just a little too hysterical.
Sierra and Crystal were also in the kitchen, sat at Ashton’s bar with drinks in front of them, watching the band members in amusement.
“It’s literally half past five and they’re hammered,” Y/N stated, joining the two girls, who laughed, nodding their heads in agreement.
“They were smashed after the first video,” Sierra contributed.
“Well... Mike and Luke definitely were,” Crystal mused. “I think Cal and Ash hung on until the second.”
“Y/N!” Calum’s voice broke through the room and Y/N turned around, raising her eyebrows at her boyfriend, who had raised his arms, eyes bright in delight as they fixed on her.
“Cal you’re in the middle of filming!” Y/N pointed out.
“I don’t care! Come here!” He pleaded but Y/N shook her head.
“Not drunk enough for that, babe,” she told her and Calum’s eyes slipped over to Sierra and Crystal, pointing at them seriously.
“Get her drunk so she’ll come on camera - need to show her off,” Calum took another drink and Y/N turned back to the girls.
“Okay at what point do we need to cut them off?”
~~ 2019 Age 23 ~~
“You okay?” Y/N asked when Calum flopped onto the sofa next to her on the tour bus, resting her free hand in his hair as she continued to scroll through her phone.
“Yeah,” Calum sighed, nuzzling closer to her. “Glad you’re here.”
“I promised, didn’t I?” Y/N pointed out, gently running her fingers down his cheek. “Couldn’t let you spend our anniversary alone,” she teased.
“I’m sorry we’re stuck on the bus for it,” he sighed but Y/N just shrugged.
“I don’t mind, Cal - plus, lets be honest, even if we weren’t stuck on the tour bus, the guys would find a way to crash our plans. They always do.”
It was true. Calum and Y/N had never managed to have an anniversary where it was just the two of them. Every year at least one of them would crash it and invite themselves along to whatever it was that the couple were doing. When they moved in together they had been hopeful of spending a quiet anniversary together at their home with just Duke for company.
It had been a vain hope and both Luke and Ashton had invited themselves along to their movie night.
By this stage, Y/N and Calum were pretty much certain that they just did it to annoy them.
This year, Y/N had booked off two weeks from work months in advance so that she could join Calum on tour and Calum when he was looking at the dates for the tour had done his best to ensure that they could spend their anniversary in a hotel rather than on the move so that they could go on a real celebration to a fancy restaurant.
Unfortunately, at the last minute there had been a change in the tour and more dates had been added, meaning that they were spending the night of their anniversary on the tour bus, Calum having spent the day doing promo with the band and the Chainsmokers.
“Yeah I know,” Calum sighed. “Guess I just wished this year had been different,” he admitted. Y/N’s smile softened and she put her phone to the side, ducking down to kiss him.
“Nine years, Cal - that’s quite a while,” she mused and Calum nodded in agreement. “Having any doubts?” She teased and Calum reached his hand up to curl around her neck, ensuring that she remained close enough for him to kiss her again.
“With you? Never.”
~~ 2020 Age 24 (almost) ~~
Calum’s arms wrapped around her from behind, his face nestling into the crook of her neck.
“What’re you doing up?” He mumbled.
“Jet lag,” Y/N sighed, relaxing back into his arms a little bit.
They had only recently flown back home to their LA apartment (Y/N had given in to his pleads for them to move to LA, understanding that it was where Calum needed to be) from spending the time with their families in Australia.
“Could’ve woken me,” he told her and Y/N chuckled lightly.
“I know - but you need sleep, Cal,” she turned around in his arms, wrapping her arms back around him.
“I need good sleep - I only sleep well with you,” he told her, not a hint of untruth in his voice, just telling her what he honestly felt. “Been an issue since we first shared a bed when we were sixteen.”
“Sorry to ruin your sleep like that,” she giggled when she heard Calum’s breath against her neck, laughing.
“What were you doing anyway?”
“Just on Instagram,” Y/N shrugged. “Looking through my tagged.”
“Anything interesting?” Calum asked, practically dragging Y/N over to the chair situated on their balcony, sitting down first and pulling Y/N on top of him in an attempt to keep himself warm.
“Everyone wishing us happy anniversary,” Y/N told him.
“Our anniversary was months ago,” Calum pointed out, blinking his bleary eyes to focus them on her screen.
“I haven’t been on in a while,” she admitted. “Stalked you for a bit as well.” She mused. “Liked the post you put up for our anniversary,” Y/N added and Calum chuckled.
“You really haven’t been on in a while.”
“It was cute,” she told him, turning around and cuddling closer to his chest.
“Thought you were gonna hate me from putting up photos from when we were fourteen.”
“As Mike would say,” Y/N cleared her throat. “I would never forget my fucking roots,” she said, a poor imitation of Michael’s accent sending Calum into fits of laughter.
“That was awful,” he told her as he tried to catch his breath aain.
“It made you laugh,” Y/N shrugged, looking up at him, a softness in her eyes that was reserved purely for him.
Calum felt privileged in the knowledge that it had been for him and only him to see ever since they were fourteen. To know that no one else had ever seen that look directed towards them.
“That’s all I ever really want to do,” she promised.
“I love you so much,” Calum whispered. He took her hand and placed it over his chest. “This beats for you,” he brought the hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to each finger and went back to kiss her ring finger again. “We’ve been together almost ten years and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
“Cal...”
“This isn’t an official proposal,” Calum prefaced, shaking his head. “Not yet - the ring isn’t ready yet,” Y/N’s eyes widened and Calum’s lips perked up at the reaction. “Didn’t you think I was going to propose?”
“I mean, I guess,” Y/N shrugged and Calum kissed her, their lips moving together in a way that was so comforting and normal for them.
“So it’s not an official proposal until I get the ring,” their foreheads were pressed heavily together, breathing into one another’s mouths. “But I just needed - need - you to know that I want to marry you. And...” Calum trailed off, seeming to loose some confidence.
“Whenever you’re ready, Cal,” Y/N vowed, kissing him again. “Whenever you’re ready to ask, I’m ready to say yes.”
Before you go: If you enjoyed this fic and want some more of it, check my blurb masterlist under 5sos blurbs and there you can find any spinoff blurbs I have done for this fic :)
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