#feel free to ignore or just like in solidarity i just need to put this somewhere

[ziorite]

hey guys what do you do when your best friend of eight years is slowly abandoning you for a boyfriend that’s been historically manipulative and an asshole to you because you actually speak up when he does shitty things? and you love her but it doesn’t feel like love and you don’t even remember what made you want to be friends anymore and you don’t feel at ease around her because you’re afraid to say the wrong thing or talk too much. and it’s been so long and you’ve changed so much that it feels like all your edges scrape against each other where they used to fit nice and snug. and she doesn’t want to be touched but it hurts so much when she cringes away from you and she says that she’s in your corner and that you’re her best friend but it feels like you’re a younger sibling or naive cousin that she has to humor. and you’re terrified of not being good enough or bad enough or cool enough or funny enough because it doesn’t even seem like she cares about you anymore or like she wants you around? just asking for a friend you know :))

[psychotrenny]

This summary post will be the last post on Aaron Bushnell unless something else comes up. I've been talking a lot about it recently because I've been quite frustrated with the consensus opinion that has emerged among digitally active Western progressives, even those who claim to be materialists.

At this point I don't have any problem with the man himself; even as willing member of the US military the fact he eventually came to terms with the cruelty he was responsible for and felt the need to do something drastic about it puts him far above your average imperialist. And whatever you can say about his actions it cannot be denied that he had good intentions that he acted upon with deep courage and conviction. Nor do I have any problem (nor a right to do so) with the Palestinian response, both at home and in the diaspora. As a brutally oppressed people facing a genocide that most of the world is either complicit or actively involved in, it's fair enough for them to gratefully accept any form of solidarity and support they feel is genuine and valuable. Aaron Bushnell is ultimately as much a martyr as anyone; he died in the name of Palestine in the hopes that one day it would be free

My problems is the response by large numbers of Western Progressives who've seen fit to valourise this man in a way far out of proportion with the actual impact of his actions. Self-immolation has never been a very effective political tactic, especially when compared to it's immense costs. Even if it was a useful tactic, the efficacy of it has barely registered as a point of discussion. There's been such an intense focus on praising the personal moral qualities he displayed with the actual impacts of his actions being largely ignored. Like he's being held up as this sort of ultimate hero despite not actually achieving all that much, while the material achievements (and sacrifices) of Palestinian resistance fighters receive a fraction of the attention. Like for a lot of people it seems as though they needed some sort of dead white hero to latch onto, a 21st century John Brown, and it's just discomforting how much praise and attention he's getting compared to all the millions of martyred people in Palestine. The fact is that I've seen far more adulation for Bushnell from people who were already (ostensibly) pro-Palestine than from those who were "converted" by his action so to speak

The fact that Bushnell committed an ultimately pacifistic act probably helps; for a lot of liberals it's much more comforting to praise the passive resistance that holds it's moral high ground than to deal with the apparent messiness of those who commit violence against others in the name of liberation. Like when Western Progressives do talk about Palestinians they offer far more sympathy and attention the helpless innocents than they do to any actual resistance fighters. And this sort of thing is bad enough on it's own but it also reflects the way that the Western Left consistently prefers their heroes to be dead and morally pure* even at the cost of defeat and usually find some way to disown those who live long enough to exercise any power. Like for all those who were more moved Aaron Bushnell's sacrifice than by the sufferings and struggles of the millions in Palestine itself, I can't help but be skeptical about how much their support means. So many Westerners seem incapable of supporting Palestinians on terms other than their pity for a faceless suffering mass

*ideally non-violent, if not then violent through noble revolution as opposed to authoritarian oppression

[genderqueerdykes]

do u have any advice for being trans and just dealing with the,, unadulterated queer rage that comes with just seeing,, everything that’s been happening?

ooooo boy. kinda

admittedly i'm very angry every day, it's impossible to quell the anger. that's honestly why i do what i do- i put a lot of my time and effort into helping people get access to resources and get the help that they need because now more than ever we need solidarity and knowledge more than anything

if you're able to, work with your local trans and/or queer community especially, see what you can do to help people you can directly affect. if you are disabled or homeless or struggle with getting out and helping in person i understand, that's not always doable.

some people find success in helping pass along resources online. you can organize chats and facebook groups and things of the like for local queers and help pass along information about informed consent clinics, planned parenthood, local endocrinologists and sex reassignment surgeons, gender affirming care resources, etc. even as so much as sending a few emails with resources to someone can change their life

i am very scatter brained so admittedly i'm not great at figuring out how to affect the legal side of things yet. i do not work well with authority figures and i can't figure out how to stay civil and sane while thinking about the disgusting tyranny we are now living under. my best advice is to try to get people to safety and resources. i don't really know much about contacting senators. if anyone does feel free to pitch in, but this is where i struggle. see if you can organize a protest if possible, that may be a good place to start

anyway, if none of those things are your cup of tea, just be yourself unabashedly. i wear drag every single time i leave my home now. i wear wigs and makeup and garish outfits and let people know i am not cis at every opportunity. i cover myself in trans flags and pronoun pins and am very uncaring of whatever assholes may try to fuck with me. sometimes being brave and being yourself helps others, too

i hope like, any of that helped. i am also very angry right now and i understand, there is a fire under my ass that i cannot ignore, this is absurd. thanks for reaching out, take care, i hope you feel better soon

[periprose]

https://www.tumblr.com/periprose/738633982543036416

respectfully, this is very ignorant of you, just because you don't see what that kind of support has done, it doesn't mean that it's useless, as someone who has family that's affected by the current events it means a lot that people are spreading awareness and talking about to this day, and with what south africa is currently doing, it's proof that it is indeed helpful, posting about what's going on, is one of the many ways to show solidarity for the injustice palestinians are facing, even the smallest action can go a long way.

Long response under the cut:

Anon you are talking to a south Asian woman whose family was directly affected by genocide in Sri Lanka. Think about who you’re talking to. It’s also extremely weird of you to say that I’m somehow ignorant of support. I see “support,” I’m saying that I don’t think it is the extent of true support as people think it is.

I think awareness has a use to an extent but I’m allowed to think it’s useless when overall I’ve seen the lack of help it’s done for certain communities. At some point it just becomes sensationalist, doomed stuff for western audiences to sympathize with and not anything more. I am proud of people making efforts for Palestine, but the vast majority of people out there will use this as an attempt to show solidarity and nothing more. I’ve seen this happen with Sri Lankan politics online, with very intricate Tamil issues becoming nothing more than hashtags and content for people to make trend and then forget about again.

And people posting just for the sake of posting drowns out the posts which we should actually listen to. Not every person with a blog needs to state “free Palestine” when that should already be obvious. It comes across as patronizing, a sad way to sum up the real geo-political issue at hand, especially when most of these people would not put their money where their mouth is, and only say these things to fit in with a trend. Like where is the actual help?

See BLM or Breonna Taylor. Forgive me for being cynical of western politics I guess.

Also I can put what I think is relevant on my blog. If you took my post as being unsupportive of Palestine, I am sorry for that. I just don’t see how my fanfiction blog is going to help anyone if I just make a post stating how I support freeing Palestine. I know it’s a privilege to have a blog for fun, but that does not mean I’m ignoring the genocide at hand. You don’t know what I do IRL or what news I’m keeping up with. And a lot of those posts are guilt tripping people, because then people will reblog and feel as if they made a difference. That original post I reblogged detailed great ways to actually help people IRL instead of internet activism. Awareness is not worth as much as you think.

My dad went through extreme poverty in Sri Lanka, and the aftermath of a genocide on our people. Please do not think I don’t know what I’m talking about or that I’m very spoiled and ignorant like you’re trying to say. He himself thinks the internet is all a bunch of talk, helpful in spreading info, but not helpful in making changes. At the end of the day he agrees it’s about money, whether that’s donating or boycotts, and I agree with him because I know what he went through.

I also have personally made efforts to help Palestine in my own personal life and I hope you have too, because that’s what significantly counts to me, not whatever our digital footprints are. People can think different about this, if you think lesser of me for thinking internet activism doesn’t do much, then just unfollow or get off my blog.

[ghoulfr13nd]

hi!! op i care you too 🥺🥺 im making us a friendship bracelet as we speak it shall have a ton of music notes!! 🎶 fgsdjk

aspect playlists are really so much fun! it combines classpect analysis and music! the best of two worlds! :D me and my friend made a shared playlist for every aspect and that was a blast! (and as it turns out we have the most music in rage aspect even though neither of us are rage we just listen to rage-y vibes a lot fsdgh) also pls tell me what's your classpect i need to know! 👀

omg im glad you had fun but also so sorry for the parking incident (honestly, felt that, i scraped my car in front of others too i know how you feel ;v; i shake ur hand in solidarity 🤝) and ooooh! hope you also had fun on other concerts too seems like you did! and you know? i actually havent considered earplugs! maybe it'd be good to test it, especially since in 2025 Billie Ellish will be on the tour and will visit my country (where a chance like that doesn't happen often! :O )

oh my god excuse me while i let myself to go on a little longer rant here gfjksdfh you mentioned Matt and Kim being a required listen to know you, and well, if i'd have to point to any band that would be the same for me Rammstein would probably be the one, it has so many memories attached to it and it's Up There in my fave bands ranking! fgsdjf for recommendations though: Links 2 3 4, Sonne , Amerika, Moskau and Rosenrot are my absolute faves! :D (<- i'm holding myself from recommending like 20 songs here fgdjfksa) oh also! Rammstein is a german band so if you'd be curious about their lyrics there are probably translations somewhere! of course it's not necessary to enjoy their music but i think they're totally worth looking into in free time, they add a lot, i love their lyrics! gdfjsdf (i mean Equilibrium is german too but honestly i listen to them mostly for the vibes and they also sing in english so- shrug fgdfsd) speaking of! for Equilibrium I'd reccomend Met, Karawane and Tornado! :D pls let me know what you'll think im curious!

have a good day/night!

music anon 🎶

alright music anon 🎶 the wait is over — thank you for being patient!!

i haven’t made any of my own aspect playlists in the time since we spoke last but i’m keeping it on my to-do list!! i would love to hear some of the songs you chose for yours, and i’ve had a great idea that i’ll circle back around to!

i LOVE talking classpects though! i put a lot of effort into choosing mine back in the day, and identified as Witch of Void for a long time. however, I wasn’t sure if I identified with that anymore, so I wanted to re-take the quiz before I answered you. I got Maid of Breath or Maid of Light this time, and both seem very fitting, but I’m not sure how strongly I feel about either.

(If you’re curious — for YEARS I have sworn by this quiz combined with this classpect analysis. I ignore the non-canon classpects on the quiz, though, personally. If I went by that, I’d be a Star of Blaze, which sounds pretty cool but I don’t know what any of that means, so…)

Also you MUST tell me your’s!!!! I at one point made all of my friends, including the non-homestuck ones, to figure out their classpects, I am so serious about it. its my favorite personality test that I am perhaps a little intense about. uh. anyway.

SHAKING YOUR HAND IN SOLIDARITY YOU GET ME !!!!!!!!!!!! this is also re: your other ask but i love that we are both bpd scratched-car twins. what a pair, us.

I HOPE YOU GET TO GO SEE BILLIE!!!! And that it isn’t overwhelming for you! For me, seeing artists I love, live, is a very personal thing. Being able to sing and cheer and dance with the rest of the crowd is a spiritual thing for me. Especially if it’s one of my gender-playlist artists! I’m only half-joking when I say I think I just need to see every band on it live and then I’ll finally evolve into my final form.

And on that note, that brings us to your required listening. Music anon, I have taken this so seriously. I’m holding these songs in my hands. I want to do right by you.

So. First impressions. I have to admit to you, anon, German is so foreign to me that I could not help but find it a little silly at first. That being said, the longer I listen to it, the more I ease into the sounds. I did this initial listen-through at work, when I first got your ask (which I received a full 23 hours after you sent it! I checked!). The sounds are fun!

However, I didn’t want this to be the entirety of my experience with them. Which comes to the part that took me so long to get around to — looking up the translated lyrics, and re-listening to all the songs with a little more context. This was an important step to me! I want to understand what you love about them!

My favorites from Rammstein were Links 2 3 4 and Sonne, and Karawane was my favorite from Equilibrium. Links 2 3 4 was the first one I listened to and the one I thought “german sounds so strange” about, but I really enjoyed it my second go around!!

Do you have any particular thoughts about the songs you chose? I’d love to hear what you’re thinkin!

Also, to circle back around to the idea I had — I know you were hesitant about sharing actual playlists with me, but how about sending me lists of the songs and letting me put the playlist together myself? I actually already started one with the songs you recommended!! Let me know what you think, and don’t be afraid to tell me no if you’re not into it.

I hope you have a very good day/night as well, anon!!

[grlsavior]

@leagueofdccm ; rick : where did you find this? three hundred & ninety prompts ; accepting.

     𝘀𝗵𝗲  𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀  𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁  𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲  𝘀𝗵𝗲  𝘄𝗮𝘀  𝗶𝗻  𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗲  𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿  𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸  𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲  𝗮𝗻𝗱  𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱  𝗵𝗲𝗿,     if  anything  she  actively  tried  to  avoid  him  because  she  just  didn't  know  exactly  how  to  deal  with  him  or  what  he  might  say.     but  this  time  she  knew  she  actually  was  in  trouble,  not  just  from  the  look  on  his  face,  the  fact  no  one  else  was  around  and  the  item  laying  on  the  table  between  them     -     her  dad's  baseball  bat.     yeah,  she  was  in  big  trouble  this  time  and  there  was  nothing  she  could  do  to  talk  herself  out  of  it.     fuck.     tilly  was  frozen,  hazel  eyes  wide  as  she  looked  between  rick  and  the  bat.     what  could  she  say?     was  there  really  anything  that  she  could  say  that  would  make  him  understand?     she  shrugs  her  shoulders,  looking  away  from  him  for  a  moment,     "     i  found  it  where  you  left  it     -     guess  the  better  question  is,  where  do  you  find  it?     'cause  i  didn't  leave  it  here,     "     not  only  was  she  admitting  to  leaving  the  walls  of  alexandria  without  anyone,  which  she  wasn't  supposed  to  do,  and  she  didn't  seen  the  point  of     𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴     that  she  had  taken  it,  found  a  place  to  stash  it  and  it  wasn't  really  for  any  purpose  rather  than  just  having  something  of  her  dad's  somewhat  close  by.     tilly  hadn't  seen  her  dad  since  they  had  been  brought  here  and  whilst  she  got  that  this  wasn't  a     𝗽𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁     for  her,  she  couldn't  help  but  feel  like  she  was  being  punished  for  something  that  she  hadn't  done.     she  was  very  much  aware  of  what  he  had  done,  for  the  pain  he  had  caused,  people  seemed  to  be  constantly  wanting  to     𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱     her  of  that  every  chance  they  got.     tilly  was  doing  her  best  to  handle  everything,  to  take  the  snarky  words,  the  occassional  beating  that  most  people  just  ignored  and  she  just  needed  something  that  might  make  her  feel  a  little     𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿     to  deal  with  it  all.     fuck,  it  wasn't  like  anyone  had  known  she  had  it,  till  rick  found  it  and  clearly  put  two  and  two  together.

     𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘀  𝗳𝗼𝗹𝗱  𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀  𝗵𝗲𝗿  𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀𝘁  𝗮𝘀  𝘀𝗵𝗲  𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱  𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸  𝗮𝘁  𝗵𝗶𝗺,     unsure  of  what  exactly  he  was  expecting  from  her  in  all  of  this  because  right  now,  she  just  felt  like  she  was  free  falling  with  no  one  looking  out  for  her  at  all.     being  in  alexandria  was  her  choice,  she  wanted  to  be  as  close  as  she  could  to  her  dad,  but  she  hated  feeling  like  she  wasn't  doing  anything  and  had  to  deal  with  everyone's  anger  towards  her  dad  herself.     if  he  thought  that  she  was  just  being  accepted  here,  he  was  blind  to  everything  and  he  wasn't  the  person  she  thought  he  was.     she  understood  that  he  had  so  much  to  deal  with,  trying  to  get  the  other  communities  to  work  together  and  not  fall  back  into  solidarity  again.     she  just  felt     𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘁     and  she  didn't  know  what  she  was  supposed  to  be  doing,     "     if  you're  gonna  yell  at  me,  can  you  get  it  over  with?     you're  probably  like  one  of  the  few  people  here  who  hasn't,     "     tilly  could  hear  how  tired  and  defeated  she  sounded  to  herself,  she  was  sure  that  he  hadn't  missed  it,  but  she  just  didn't  know  what  to  do  anymore.     the  war  may  be  over,  but  why  did  she  still  feel  like  she  was     𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴     everyone?     sighing  softly,  she  looked  down  again,  teeth  biting  on  her  lower  lip  as  she  shook  her  head,     "     you're  not  letting  me  see  him,  so  i  just  wanted  something     .     .     .     everyone  else  may  be  wanting  to  act  like  he  doesn't  exist  anymore,  but  i  can't  do  that,     "

[goggles-mcgee]

Canonical Things in my Batman Universe

The Lego Batman Movie, the Keaton Batman, and Clooney Batman movies all exist in this universe purely because Jason and Tim forged Bruce's signature on the documents to allow studios to use him as Batman's secret identity because they wanted to fuck with Bruce and they thought it would be hilarious.

The Justice League has a movie night dedicated to said movies and Bruce loathes it because they all dress up.

Bruce has gone on live TV and said the reason why him and Batman are never seen together is because Bruce is scared of Batman because, holy shit the dude dresses up like a giant ass bat and he is "very scared of bats after that traumatizing experience in the cave I fell down as a boy."

This also applies to Manbat.

Damian volunteers at Gotham Zoo even though he has tried to smuggle put many of the animals.

Damian will also completely ignore the fact that Harley Quinn is just laying in the middle of the hyena exhibit because animal lover solidarity.

The Official Fuck Freud Club would absolutely be a thing in my comic universe. Harley would be seen more like a wine aunt to the boys and she is seen multiple times to be helping out the Batfam if they need it.

Gotham does not celebrate April Fool's because of the Joker.

Joker claims April Fool's is his birthday and has a city wide celebration and that's why people do their best to stay home.

Two-Face has tried multiple times to represent himself in court when he is taken in again after being arrested by the bat. But due to him arguing with himself too many times he has resigned to hiring one of Penguins lawyers.

Joker once robbed a toy store and was absolutely in one of his homicidal moods but when a kid handed him an Uno reverse card instead of any valuables he might have had, Joker laughed so hard he nearly passed out and just gave the kid his bag of money and walked away. But he did throw a molotov cocktail just for some fun.

Gas mask accessories are a thing.

So are customized gas masks.

Bringing clayface to a pottery class is no longer allowed (looking at you Harley)

Riddler, after he actually gets some help and everything and decided he doesn't want to try being a private detective again, opens an escape room company. He loves it. Bruce and the kids are frequent players.

Gothamites have some of the weirdest humor and they have absolutely named every gargoyle in the city.

During a fight a gargoyle gets destroyed. "Y'all they killed our boy Biscuit. May he rest in pieces 🙏"

Bruce Wayne has paid rogues to leave him alone

Buzzfeed: Gotham's 10 Hottest Tragic Orphans and Rehomed Orphans

Buzzfeed is absolutely a fucking thing so y'know the Unsolved channel is there too. What I'm saying is....conspiracy theories. So many conspiracy theories. Especially about Jason's death.

Yes both Harley and Scarecrow know that Bruce is Batman but neither knows the other knows so they think they are alone in dealing with this rich boy riddled with issues who is too brave and stupid for his own good.

Bruce sometimes is just too fucking tired to be intimidating Mr. Batman and just goes full tired dad and somehow that makes the rogues feel worse.

Examples: "Edward Nashton. Sit down and shut the fuck up you will not rob the museum for the fourth time this month." (This was before his whole escape room and it should be noted the speed at which Riddler sat down hearing that.)

King Tut up to his usual brand of bullshit. (I combine the two versions, William Ohama McElroy and Victor Goodman) "I'm not mad William. Just disappointed."

Just one of Joker's goons "Matty you were doing so good. You were back in school. What happened?"

One time Bruce was being held hostage at one of Gotham's charity galas and he asked any of his kids available for some help discreetly. Long story short Batman came to save the day while Bruce managed to get himself free of his restraints, he felt a hand on his shoulder and immediately punched who it was. It was Batman (Dick). This furthered the belief that Bruce is scared of Batman.

[thebibliosphere]

Feel very free to ignore this but yea . I'm starting to think I may have been underestimating how generally ill I am and that I may have something medically significant going on and it would be an understatement to say that its freaking me out a little bit. I grew up with my mom being chronically ill so I got it drilled into me that I basically had to grin and bear shit bc at least it wasnt as bad as hers. Any tips on dealing with this mindfuck lmao

Solidarity, friend. I grew up with a visibly disabled sibling, and it's still a mental slog sometimes to get past the whole "but at least you're not as bad as X" I get from some people just because I'm not as visibly affected.

It took me years to stop internalizing that too. I still struggle with it, sometimes.

Therapy helps a lot. I go to grief counseling. It helps with both acceptance and also managing rapid cycling emotions. This is often something we experience when we first realize Something Is Wrong and we could have been having help this whole time and entirely normal. I also find mindfulness (yes, really) and radical acceptance to be helpful.

Going to put this under a cut because it's long :)

Some people mistake radical acceptance to mean "guess I'll just give up then" when what it actually means is to stop fighting things you cannot change, accept them as reality and focus your energy elsewhere.

For me, that meant giving up on the idea that I'd ever be a healthy, able-bodied person. For the longest time, I was sure if I got the right diagnosis and treatment, I'd eventually be healthy and my suffering would stop. It was my motivation to keep pushing through the medical abuse and gaslighting and, honestly, all that kept me alive sometimes. I needed to name the beast so I could kill it and claim my life back. And then I got diagnosed with two genetic disorders that can't be cured, lol.

Not gonna lie, struggled for a bit with that: both with the idea that I'd been allowed to suffer for decades through medical negligence, and also that now, even knowing the name of what was wrong, I was stuck with it forever. It could be managed, but it couldn't be cured. And that's where radical acceptance can help. Which for me looks like:

"I have (at least) two genetic disorders that cause lifelong problems that cannot be cured. There is literally nothing I can do to change this. This is a fact I cannot fight. But, with treatment and self-care, they can be managed and my quality of life can be improved, which is incredibly important! So that is where I will focus my energy. On improving my quality of life for the person I am, not the person I could have been."

It sounds simple, but internalizing it is another matter.

As for mindfulness, whenever I catch myself in a negative thought spiral of "I should do more because I am not X enough", I force myself to pause and ask: If this were happening to a friend, would I urge them to rest, or would I tell them to keep going even though it's harming them? No? Okay, so why am I not offering myself the same care and compassion?

This can apply to many aspects of life, but mostly I use it to herd myself into being kinder to myself because, goodness knows, someone needs to be kind to this body and it might as well be me.

This is like... not even remotely enough to help with everything you will be experiencing. But I hope it's a helpful start in pointing you in the right direction. Good luck and take care!

[space-oreos]

I.I.W.H.F.W? Full Repost

Summary: 

You know about red strings, but have you heard about golden ones, those with a bond so strong fate could not ignore it. 

Time could not weaken it, love and hatred could not divide it.

Only one’s willingness to accept that it is over, is when their tether to the bond came to an end, sometimes mistakenly leaving the other bound to them without notice.

You didn’t know? 

Good, you weren’t supposed too.

Because you were one of the first to witness it.

Digital Library (Other stuff)

If you wanna read it in parts

Wanings :  Things briefly mentioned/alluded to; blood, death, guns, kidnapping(?), War(Age of Ultorn), Feel free to name any if I missed them

Words : A lot, like a lot in one sitting my opinion

I thought I’d do this because clicking all those links have to be annoying. This is the whole thing in one post. Don’t expect much, this isn’t good. Like actually. If you’re on your phone it might take a few seconds, my apologies :/

Isn’t it weird how fate works? People say one can always change the future under the assumption that it is unwritten, but what if that was how life was intended to play out?

“This is a Manhattan bound B train, stand clear of the open doors please”

Does changing the past actually change the present? Or was the change already written in time?

Right, Left, Right

Was our breath taken from us by the grasp of death, or were we simply fulfilling a narrative? 

Leave the seat for the grandma, stand

But is that what life is? Just a bunch of untold stories? 

Don’t stare, look down

No, it has to be more than that.

Right?

“This is Central Park. As you exit please be careful of the gap between the platform and the train. Transfer available to the A and 1 train, along with selected bus services”

Walk

18 minutes, that is how long it should take me to get to Stark’s tower on foot according to online resources, but I’ve taken the same path many times to know that is simply not true.

Crowded sidewalk, 3 extra minutes.

Stop at the crossing 

Have to stop at a crosswalk? 20 seconds, not bad.

Move

Walking across the crosswalk? 5 seconds.

The added time is why I rise before I wish to be woken. A cruel reality really, why put to work the ones that wish to be unbothered?

I shouldn’t be complaining though, I guess, I do get a paycheck.

Pay

Food stop, if lucky, an additional 4 minutes. This one took 3. Then again, I only ordered a coffee and waffles.

Walk 

Press the 40th floor button 

Is there really a goal in life? Or do people feel the need to give it meaning?

There are people in here, make room. Now wait

Why does life have to be beneficial for someone to be meaningful? Doesn’t that just counteract the point? 

I guess people are just scared of the thought of unimportance in life, of being trivial. But is it not the trivial thoughts that fill us with life? The whisper of feelings that let us know that we are in fact not only alive, but living.

The doors open, walk out

Unimportance; is it the prospect that scares people? Or the implication that no one cares?

Turn right

I guess that begs the question, why do we need others’ approval to feel important, in fact why do we need to feel important? Can we just not bask in the feeling of being alive without the sway of others feelings?

Left, Conference room B6

Then again, humans are sociable creatures, our actions loosely based on others.

In this society, we are not allowed to just bask. If one man takes the podium then many will feel the need to follow suit. Even if they don’t need to. 

Oh you’re low on food? May I ask what they gave you? An apple? Well;

If you get an apple, I get an apple.

If you get a plum, I get a plum.

That is only fair.

So caught up in fairness that the greed of false self solidarity takes over and we forget that one was once the devil’s fruit. What was once looked to with disdain many start wanting if benefits are reaped. I guess we really may derive from Adam and Eve.

An office chair, sit 

Then again, we live in a society where everyone is deemed important, whether convicted, on trial, or innocent. Which is confusing, because if everyone is important, held to the same power, doesn’t that mean that everyone is as trivial? Importance is indicative of significant worth or consequence, but if everyone has it, is it significant?

Look down at your phone, wait

I was always told that love is important as a child, I still am told actually. 

That once you find your match you would be more than content. Whether that match is made by the heavens or its god I do not know. But they are supposed to make you happy, make you feel loved, stay there when things get hard. The thing that people love to say is that they are supposed to love you at your worst.

That once, or if, you find your soulmate, the one tied by the famous red string of fate, everything would fall into place.

That if you did find them, you would be deemed one of the lucky ones. 

Before modern technology and communications, people solely found their soulmates by luck, the red string connecting them not seen by many, as eyes are windows to the soul. Fate would be dramatic enough that you could only see the string once your line of vision touched.

To scientists, it was and still is an anomaly. As to how a blind man can be guided by simply following a string he can only see given by fate, no one knows.

It seems the soul is not restricted to the physicalities of this world.

Once photos and selfies became a thing, the strings started becoming more common, “perfect” matches started popping up. You no longer had to search for the string but rather be guided to the other end. 

Loving someone was no longer seen as a privilege but rather a prospect given by fate. A common goal in peoples’ life, to find the one.

I guess that’s why I’ve been thinking of importance lately. One of my co-workers found her soulmate, she found him on tinder, the only reason she knew he was the one was because of the string.

 “I mean, I didn’t even think I was going to find anyone! Isn’t that crazy, I mean look, he’s perfect!”

She looked so happy.

“I messaged him, he’s coming from another state so we can meet in person for the first time! But I mean who wouldn’t! We are soulmates!”

So excited.

“I can’t wait!”

I’m happy for her, I truly am.

“I mean I was just looking for a date! I didn’t think I’d find the one!”

But for me to say I was not completely and utterly confused would be wrong. 

Foot steps, drowned out talking; stand

My boss, Tony Stark. 

Personal assistant turned wife, soulemate; Pepper Pots.

“Ok well! If I could get all your attention, yes, yes, up on me please.”

He grabbed a marker and started writing on the white board in front of the lab.

Sit

“Sorry for the short notice but as you all know, the Avengers had a fight with a bunch of robots, beat their assess, might I add, and saved the world!” “But in the process of that we left a capital city in ruins, which is why you, the great people that my brilliant self hired, are going to come up with a plan to aid it”

“I know some of you may be old employees from when we were still making arsenal for the mitillia, and I fired you, but forget that. I’m giving you a second chance, use what you know about mechanical engineering and etc, brainstorm ideas with those brilliant minds of yours, and help Slovakia”  

I am not made up of those who were fired, as I have been working here for 6 years, but Stark requested some people lead each group and with 6 years of experience under my belt, I apparently seemed the most promising.

“So, now that my speech is done, anyone have any suggestions”

People went one after the other, finding flaws in each plan.

“Okay, so those don’t work, anyone else”

Raise your hand

I raised my hand.

“Yes you, go”

“We could reconstruct or construct public transit, that way after Slovakia would not have to depend on the funds of Stark industries. In the beginning we could donate resources, provide aid. But after, like our finance team said, only doing that would help  individuals and not the city as a whole, by making it possible for them to start transferring goods again they could eventually make their own profit and rebuild their economy?”

“Yes!Yes! Did you hear that Peps, I think I’d like to give you a raise! Well obviously after this whole plan works out, hahaha”

I smiled at that. 

After more planning, thought, and approval on my suggestion, we got to work.

—---

I’m one of the main people in charge of reconstructing the railroads. My team and I have made multiple maps at this point, correcting them, and processing the funds.

The only problem was, the ground we were making plans for, either did not exist or was too disfigured for safe travel. 

We were given a map with the estimated damage, but each plan got rejected as the land we were planning to build on either held surviving victims  or the rubble was yet to be cleaned out, the rubble we could fix, but if we did not know which points of land were accessible, how were we supposed to know where to start, end. The second thoughts at the start, started getting louder as we progressed into the week;

Monday

Map ejected, railroads went over temporary housing camps.

Tuesday

Start from scratch, start again.

Wednesday

Land no longer available. Map ejected.

Today was Friday, I voiced my thoughts to my boss.

“I don’t think this plan will work if we do not know the current conditions of the land, and where people are currently occupying it. I don’t want a plan to accidentally go through, us working on it for months, for a problem to come up because we were given inaccurate information on the ladder, I think we need to reconsider how we are going to do this, if we are going to do this at all.”

He was looking at his screen, preoccupied with a picture of his wife and daughter on the screen, his eyes looking to something else as well.

I’m standing next to his sitting form.

I didn’t mean to look, but I did. On the right side of his screen, there was a notification. 

“4 more bodies found in the debris, 2 adults, 2 children, presumed to be the missing Tòthová family of four. Residents are devastated. There will be an event  held for the family next Monday, a truly tragic story” TheGlobesMostRecentNews.com 

He dismissed me.

Open the door

Maybe that’s why I’ve been thinking about greed lately, about how people hold everyone to an importance, how everyone needs a label. 

Take off your clothes

The battle in Slovakia was after the incident in New York.

Get in the shower

After New York got invaded by aliens, there was so much damage and reconstructing that needed to be done that the people of New York started moving to different places, the ones that decided to stay cursing the Avengers for bringing war upon them.

So it’s not surprising that when Tony Stark, the renounced playboy billionaire decided to step in and help Slovakia, the Avengers got even more backlash, some even wanting them to sign the Slavokian accords.

They didn’t need to though, as it immediately was ruled unconstitutional under the bill of rights, the Supreme Court unwillingly taking the Avengers side when the court had decided on the decision, as long as they were on American soil, they were safe.

How does that play out as greed one may ask? After the incident in New York, Stark industries funded the clean up groups, hired people to fix what the battle had damaged, the Avengers even participating in search parties and feeding the ones that needed to be fed.

Yet, there are still angry mobs screaming about how they barely helped them.

How they were traitors, helping foreign countries before helping their own, the ones cursing their names are the same ones asking for help.

Exit the shower

Funny thing is, there is still funding for the ones affected by the New York battle, they weren’t asking for equal treatment, they were asking for more.

Now I’m not one to say acts of selfishness are necessarily a bad thing, being necessarily selfish is what makes people human. But if your act of selfishness is to fulfill self entitlement at the expense of taking the attention away from helping others in need, are you not just being cruel?

Their greed is not only filled by anger though, but also by sorrow, is that an excuse for one’s actions? No. But do I understand the resentment, yes.  

Dry off your hair

I would know, I was living in New York when it happened.

I was living with my grandmother. 

Sleep

—---------

I’m in Mr.Stark’s office, he is standing in front of me, he seems happier than before.

“So, I’ve thought about what you said, and you are so correct. How are you supposed to make plans to help people if you are unaware of the damage?”

He started making a cocktail, offering me one, I refused.

“So I thought, huh why don’t I send you and your team out to Slovakia? I mean there would be safety precautions seeing as, heh people hate us, but you would get a scope of the land and the things you would need to adjust. All I need is for you and your team to agree on it, I’ll pay and everything, what do you say?” 

A trip to Slovakia, the place that is currently in economic shambles, the place currently having a debate war over the Avengers, the one of the governments that wanted them to agree with the proposed slovakian accords. 

Is he crazy?

Say yes 

“Yes, I’d be happy to help, you may want to ask everyone on the team for their agreement though, and if you don’t mind me asking. What would the safety precautions be?”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink.

“I’m glad you agree, and I’d happily answer that”

He touched his watch, notifying something? Someone, I don’t know.

He pointed behind me.

Footsteps, turn

Three people filed in, all every occupant of New York and Slovakia now new by name; 

Get up

Clint Barton,

Shake their hand

Wanda Maximoff,

Make eye contact

Natasha Romanoff.

  _____________________

Mr. Stark gave everyone a week to prepare for the Slovakia reconstruction railroad project, otherwise known as the S.R.R. project. He gave us time to clear schedules, say goodbye, as we would be leaving for 2 months.

I was ready on the first night.

I didn’t have anyone to say goodbye to.

Well, no one close enough, anyways.

I rubbed the ring on my finger, I took the children’s story book off my nightstand.

Mr.Stark explained that the three Avengers would be with my main team, as we are going to the ones assessing the damages.

Wanda Maximoff was there so she could guide us through the area, give us a scope on what the society looked like, and for the language barrier due to the older generations.

Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff would be there each as the head of their own group made out of shield agents for security.

My team consist of;

Maria Spoke - Telecommunications

Jamie Aristeidis - Telecommunications 

Julia White - Drafter 

Daniel Brooks - Drafter

Harleen Barlow - Accounting Specialist 

Alex Hammond -  Accounting Specialist(assistant)

Neil Bowman - Expenses Manager 

Jacob Shillingford - Electrician 

Eliza Blake - Electrician 

Stephen Alvarez - Plumer

Riley Willard - Plumer

Adrian Lewis - Mechanical engineering

Vicktor Hart - Mechanical engineering

Me - Electromechanical Engineering

That’s 28 people in total taking into account that the shield teams each consist of 6 people not including their respective head leaders.

Those are the people I will be with everyday, then there are the people Mr.Stark hired as extra and backup support.

Why is this important?

They say it’s good to get to know your team, that it creates a healthy environment, that’s probably why I’m at a bar right now.

“How do you guys feel about the project, good idea by the way!”

Maria said while looking at me.

Adrian Lewis turned to me.

“Yeah great idea! Probably the only reason why we’re not still stuck in the conference room!”

He said while patting my back.

I already knew most of them, the only new employees were the drafters, plumbers, and the expense managers. Though they were only transfers from known companies or old employees he fired once people found out he was Iron Man. Stark wanted to make sure that everyone was reliable for this project.

Smile, thank them

“Thank you.”

Riley turned to the group.

“So, you guys know who you’re rooming with?”

Because so many people lost housing, the residents around them and the hospitality businesses are letting them stay free of charge, presumably. Meaning that we will have little living space when we are there, it will also change frequently seeing as we do have to follow the railroads.

“We get to choose? I thought it was separated by occupation?”

“Wait no, isn’t it gender?”

“Where are we staying?”

They bickered over our short-term living conditions for the rest of the night.

__________________

I am on a private plane to Slovakia. My team, on a public one with all first-class tickets.

“So, I guess you’re wondering why you’re here, and why I’m on a plane to Slovakia when I just could have flown in a suit, trust me, I’m questioning it too.”

Mr.Stark said to me like we were the only ones occupying the space, we weren’t.

“But anyway, you’re here so we can go over the plans, and so you can explain everything to the people currently on board”

I turned. I saw two new faces.

Bruce Banner, had seven Phds, one of those being nuclear physics, he’s here presumably with his own team to help the injured and the ill.

Maria Hill, here to direct the shield agents outside of protecting us and to also conduct search and rescue teams in the areas we would stop in.

Everyone else I was already acquainted with.

As I looked I could not help but notice that Agent Romanoff’s eyes kept drifting to the Doctor. The former also shifted in his seat and looked at his hands  like he was uncomfortable. The others in the room clearly knew something I didn’t, but they decided not to pay notice, and on that notion, neither did I.

Getting off the plane, someone grabbed my wrist.

Wanda. She smiled as I turned to her and she gently put my wrist down.

“I just wanted to say thank you, for agreeing to be in this project and for the plan. It means alot”

“You don’t have to thank me, if given the opportunity I would help anyone in need.”

She smiled at that.

Smile back

We got to the hotel, when the question of roommates arose, we were informed that we would each be sharing a room with a shield agent. 

I got Natasha Romanoff.

She was quiet, but so was I. There was no introduction, as that already happened a week ago, there was just silence, not awkward at least for me, but it was there.

Then she spoke.

“I’m guessing it was hard saying goodbye? How’d they handle it?”

I looked at her confused, she raised her eyebrow and  pointed to her right index finger.

Oh

“Oh, I haven’t found my soulmate yet, this is just a ring from my grandmother. Have you found yours?”

She looked down, almost like she was ashamed, maybe she was, I do not know.

“Yeah, I have”

Guessing it was hard to say goodbye? Huh

“Was the goodbye hard?”

She laughed, for something to be associated with joy hers sounded vacaint of the emotion.

“No, the hello was.”

What? 

Sometimes people find their soulmate too late, these unlucky folk not needing the windows to the soul to reveal the string, death being cruel enough to rub it in their face that their string now has a loose end. The string leading those few to someone’s last breath.

I’ve only heard stories about it, about how the string not red but gray appears, how most people who have them are led to hospitals, houses, grieving families. Some not getting to know who was on the other end.

“I’m sorry to hear that, my condolences”

She looks at me with a tilted head, squinted eyes in confusion, then, realization hits.

“Oh, no, no. They’re not dead, they came with us”

Oh, well, that was unexpected

We stare at each other, not knowing what to say. Well, I don’t at least, she apparently does.

“Are you excited to find yours?”

No

“No.”

Why’d you say that, you should’ve lied

“Oh, why?”

Don’t say it

“I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Idiot

We stared at each other, this time one of us clearly equipped with a mask.

“Oh.”

She walked out of the room.

Idiot, why would you say that? 

After the discovery of soulmates, and so many people being able to find them. Society embraced it. 

Ending up with the one fate handed to you seemed perfect, a fairy tale weaving its way into reality. The only ones who didn’t end up with their soulmate looked at with pity, isn’t it shameful that one can’t be loved to the best of  love’s ability?

If it were written in the stars, it had to be right, right?

Those who didn’t believe in soulmates were looked at with disdain. Why tinker with strings of fate when it gave you something that everyone wanted? 

There were debates, conflicts, why not be with the one that was handed to you? 

This was seen as a moral conflict, one that affected someone’s place in social groups.

It was ironic, seeing as divorce rates went down, but infidelity didn’t, neither did abuse rates. People still dated who they wanted, but if they weren’t the one, you were not expected to stay together. 

My opinion was not a popular one, those who did have it were few, and those who did have it, lied. Looks like Agent Romanoff was one of those who I didn’t share the opinion with, quite the opposite, actually.

I don’t know why I didn’t lie.

Maybe it was because of the vulnerability of the situation.

I learned that what was exchanged that night was a rare anomaly. Agent Romanoff rarely opened up to people, only talking in turn and to make reports.

Few knew anything past her title.

She was civil, only seen openly expressing things with Agent Barton and Mr.Stark, occasionally Agent Hill.

She was cold with me.

After what was said, we didn’t exchange many words, not that we had spoken much to begin with.

As the project progressed, Wanda Maximoff and I exchanged thoughts more, I learned she found her soulmate, Vision. She had a brother, Pietro, that died in the war, and that they were orphans. I also learned we had a 3 year age difference, her being younger at 24.

When she told me who Vision was, I was confused to say the least on how a robotic man could have a soul, she laughed at that, saying people asked that constantly and he did have one despite not being a fully genetic human.

Maria Hill spoke her thoughts too, on how she found her soulmate, them being on the opposing side of a mission that Maria was tasked with.

For something deemed written, fate truly was unpredictable.

______________________

Talking, rushing, footsteps

The noises woke me from my sleep. The shadows from under the door notified me that someone was standing outside of it.

The empty room told me that Agent Romanoff was no longer in bed.

The sound of keys and the turning of a knob told me that someone was entering.

I was met with a wounded Agent Romanoff, shooing off Agent Barton in her quest to get into the room. 

“Nat you should really go get the clean up”

“I’ll clean it up myself, don’t you have your own wounds to worry about?”

“I’m not the one that’s gushing blood right now”

“It’s not gushing, Barton, now go”

“Okay, okay”

Agent Barton left.

Agent Romanoff closed the door and proceeded to lock it, sighing as she leaned her weight on it while clutching her torso, medkit in her other hand.

You’re staring 

“What.”

You’re bleeding, that’s what 

“Nothing.” 

“Then stop staring.”

I looked down to my hands that were in my lap, whether my face is hot from getting caught or because she told me to stop, I don’t know. I could hear her walk to the chair in the corner of the room, opening the med kit. She struggled to apply pressure to her wound and to also unwrap all of the needed supplies. 

Help her, idiot, what are you doing staying in bed 

I got up, either she was ignoring the sound of the bed creaking, or she didn’t notice, I have no idea. But she did seem surprised when I grabbed the antibiotic cream from her and opened it. She looked at me with a question etched onto her face, instead of providing an answer, I opened the gauze and handed her the one of the medical scissors, there were five in each med kit.

She just stared at me.

She has a cut above her eyebrow

“Stop staring, and start cutting the material around your wound, I can’t exactly help you if the wounded area is covered”

She broke out of her haze, she started cutting.

Once she stopped, I knelt down by her torso, applying the cream, getting out the gauze pads and packing it to her wound, having her hold it there so I could apply medical tape to make it stick.

“Why didn’t you just go to the medical team? I’m sure they wouldn’t feel bothered treating you”

She looked down

“No one was available, and the fastest one that would be available for a next patient would have been Dr.Banner.”

“So? He seems like a nice man? Aren’t you both Avengers anyway. What’s the problem?”

She didn’t answer.

I looked up.

“He’s my soulmate”

Oh? 

There was a knock on the door, we both looked. I turned to her with a question, she looked at me and nodded. It was him.

I washed my hands off in the bathroom. Once I opened the door Agent Barton and the man mentioned both walked in and made a beeline for Agent Romanoff.

“Whoa, you did a better job than I thought”

“Shut up Barton, and I didn’t do it, they did”

I may have not been facing them but I could feel their heads turn, their eyes were on me. I turned.

“Oh, nice, how’d you learn to uh”  He pointed up and down at the bandaged wound.

“Mr.Stark required us to take lessons before we started the trip, a safety precaution and what not.”

“Oh nice, so I’m guessing you’re fine, Nat?”

“Yes Clint, like I said before, perfectly fine”

Dr.Banner was standing a few paces away from the two, playing with his middle finger, I’m assuming in hopes of speeding up this conversation.

“So uh, if I’m not needed anymore, I’ll be going.”

He looked at the two for an answer.

“You can leave.”

Agent Romanoff answered, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

He left.

Clint’s phone rang.

“Oh it’s Laura, I gotta take this”

He shut the door while walking out.

It was silent, for a little bit, until I decided to walk towards Agent Romanoff again. This time I guess I was a little more confident, because I went to grab her face. She intercepted me with a hand on my wrist.

“What are you doing?”

I forgot to ask, shoot

“You have a cut on your face.”

I said while holding up the antibiotic cream and butterfly wound closures.

She tilted her head, yet again. A motion I noticed she does when she’s either questioning something or opposing one’s opinion.

“Would you allow me to clean it? Agent Romanoff?”

She dropped her hand, still looking at me.

“Yeah.”

I worked on her wound while we sat in the quiet that came with the night. We stayed there, in silence, for the first time since we talked. It felt, well right, like we both weren’t misplaced with someone we didn’t know. Which was wrong of course, because we were. 

“Thank you.”

I looked down, she wasn’t looking at me, for we were far too close, instead she settled for the walls in front of us. 

“You’re welcome, Agent Romanoff.”

She tilted her head again, but didn’t ask her question. I simply waited, then it came. 

“Why are you helping me? I mean you could have just sent me to medic, I also could have asked Bruce.”

I stopped my actions, I gazed at her, she looked right back.

“You didn’t seem comfortable, and you’re also hurt, why wouldn’t I help?”

I looked back at the wound, placing the final butterfly closure on it. I felt her gaze on me. I should have paid no mind, for I’ve been caught looking far too many times tonight. But in the moment, I decided to look back.

_____________________________

I was looking over railroad layouts with the drafters; Julie and Daniel, making sure that the layouts looked correct, and the plumbers; Stephen and Riley. Making sure that the tracks don’t interfere with any major pipelines, we wouldn’t want the tracks to be deconstructed if a pipeline needed to be accessed.

While looking, I saw a little boy trying to hide behind a ruined car.

He had a scrape on his head and looked unkempt.

I know the rules, I could recite them. One of those rules being, don’t leave the secured area. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did. 

I made my way to the little boy once the briefing was over.

What could go wrong?

“Hey bud, you okay?”

We are around people, I mean a little out but people are still around

“Help”

“What?”

“Help”

He started walking away without a second thought, I looked back. If I went to get help, I may lose him. I followed. His pace kept getting faster, looking back just to make sure I was still there. We passed a few abandoned buildings before he stopped.

Then he turned, he looked conflicted, “ ľútov .” 

Shit

I didn’t know Slovak, but I’ve been here long enough to know what that means. Wanda says it whenever the older generations come and protest about what happened, or when people have to wait in order to get help. I’ve even heard Agent Romanoff say it when they try to calm the not so calm protests.

I reached for my radio-transmitter.

Shit, I must have left it at the job site

A group of men filed out of the building.

Well, I guess this is the worst that can happen, huh

“Don’t worry, amreický, we just want you for Stark’s money, he’s a hero right? He’ll come for you”

Run

I walked backwards, turning, I ran into an abandoned building,  gun-shots fired, I fell.

Well good thing vests were a requirement

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna shoot them?!”

Forgot about helmets though

“They’re wearing a vest, they’re fine!” 

Fuck that hurt

I covered my head.

The hell do I do now

Their voices got closer as they argued about shooting me, and how much they were gonna split.

As they got closer, more bullets were let loose.

Well that’s weird, I’m still alive, huh, nice 

“This is S.H.I.E.L.D, put your weapons down or we will open fire”

Maria

“Shit man they shot me!”

Yeah you have a gun, jerk

“Get down, hands behind your back”

I look toward the commotion, Maria and Agent Barton were standing over the men who were all on their backs, weapons in their hands. Agents in the back had the little boy too. 

“Get up.”

I looked up.

Agent Romanoff 

She looked mad, no not looked. She was mad.

 __________________________________

“What the hell were you thinking!? Going against the rules really!”

I was sitting on a cot, Agent Romanoff was in front of me inspecting my injuries.

“I thought he needed help, you didn’t hurt them badly did you?”

She did a double take, looking at me like I had asked something stupid, maybe I did.

“I shot one of them”

That was you?

“Not badly though, right?”

“That’s not the point, you could have died, especially if we didn’t come to see what the commotion was”

“But I didn’t”

She huffed out of annoyance.

“Okay well you could have, if his aim was shit, you could have. I was placed here to protect you guys, let’s not get in the way of me doing a successful job because you decided to get in the way. Okay?” 

I looked at the scabbing wound on her forehead.

“Okay.”

I could be imagining it, but the tension from her body looked like it relaxed a little at that.

“Can we make sure he’s okay?”

She tilted her head and squinted.

I answered the unasked question.

“The little boy, I mean.”

Agent Romanoff took me to see the little boy, he’s about 6 years old, apparently not related to any of the men that were a part of the incident that happened earlier. He came up to me, tears in his eyes, hugging my ankle.

 “ ľútov ”  “ ľútov ”  “ ľútov ” he kept repeating.

I hugged him back, he may not understand me, but hopefully he’ll get what I’m saying without the use of words.

“It’s ok, you’re fine, I’m okay. Are you?”

Agent Romanoff made eye contact with me as I did this, she looked at me with a something I could not decipher, but whatever it was, was clearly there.

After that, we met with Maria, I informed her on what happened, we also met with Wanda and introduced her to the little boy, after they were talking she said he got separated from his family during the war.

He was then put in a hospital to assess any injuries, and to wait for any updates on his family.

 I’m glad he’s okay

“Oh my gosh, I heard what happened! Are you okay”

“That bruise looks nasty, did you get it checked?”

“Does it still hurt?”

“Do you need anything? Aspirin?”

“Can you tell us the details?”

“Why don’t we have helmets?”

They turned to me on the last question.

Why don’t we 

“They’re not required”

Agent Romanoff raised her eyebrows at that, I shrugged at that, questioning the decision myself.

My team asked so many questions in the course of the day after the incident, I didn’t know if my head hurt from the constant questions or because of the fact that I had a huge bruise on it.

They all meant well though, I appreciate them for that.

But to say I felt amazing when I got to the room and laid on the bed would be an underestimate.

The doors opening 

I looked, Agent Romanoff entered, closing the door, with a helmet in her hands.

“Get up.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Please.”

I sat up, “Yes?”

She placed the helmet on my head and dropped a signed letter on the nightstand from Mr.Stark, updating the work requirements. Out of the many words bolded, one caught my eye; Helmets.

______________________

It has been 4 days since the incident and currently I am looking over the railroad layouts and specs for trains that Mr.Stark wants us to make with the aid of his technology. 

I looked at my watch on my right wrist.

11:20 p.m , Shit

I got up, cleaning up my workspace, getting ready to sleep.

I’ve been looking at these all day. Stark wants the trains to be electric, and since electric locomotives work on electricity, the engine required electricity. Unlike diesel trains that already had fueling facilities here, the new electric trains did not.

Our team had to agree whether we wanted the trains to have onboard batteries, an electrical line, or a third rail.

We agreed on a bottom-contact third rail, harder for people to easily step on, and harder for debris to get on, now I was just marking the spots where there should be railroad breaks for people to cross. I would need the drafters to look into this later as well.

Agent Romanoff entered the room, she didn’t look physically tired, but her eyes spoke wonders.

She reminds me of a wilted flower

“You’re still working?”

Tried, in need of water, in this case sleep

I looked at her. She was still fully dressed in her S.H.I.E.L.D attire. 

But oh so beautiful, 

My movements stuttered, my breathing paused.

Wait, what?

I dismissed the thought from out of my head. It was true though, she did harbor beauty, so why was I questioning it? Instead of interrogating myself further, I answered with a question.

“Not any more, and weren’t you also?”

“No, just couldn’t sleep”

Why? Did something happen?

“Something on your mind?”

Going back into my movements. I opened my case, putting paperwork in there. She must have seen something because she didn’t answer when I asked, instead when I turned I saw her  looking at me with childlike amusement.

“I like your book”

I paused looking down. It was a children’s book. I was contemplating whether to take it or not when I was packing, the only thing besides my ring I was hesitant about losing. It was 52 pages long and besides my ring, possibly the longest object I’ve had in my possession.

I looked back up.

“Thank you.”

She sat on her bed, back to the wall and body relaxing with comfort, I rarely see her like this.

She nodded to the book, eyebrows raised.

“What’s it about?”

“A boy and a girl, growing to love one another even though they weren’t soulmates.”

She cocked her head at that.

Don’t do it 

I don’t know why I did it, but I did. 

“Would you like me to read it to you?”

Her face changed emotion, and she looked at me differently yet again. Not in a way of asking a question this time. Instead like she was trying to decipher an already known answer. 

She muttered.

“Go for it.”

She fell asleep whilst reading 20 pages in.

Good, you need rest

I still finished reading her the book, the ending was my favorite.

————————————————————————————————–

It’s been 7 days, we have made a tremendous amount of progress, and my team wanted to celebrate. As a celebration, we went to a hospital not only to lift others spirits but so we could see first hand who we were helping, we also went to supply food.

There were no drinks but people got drunk off the laughter, the area seemed too crowded for something that was to be held outside but there seemed to be enough room for just about anyone, no one taking up too much space.

For a place filled with sorrow days beforehand there was much joy. Everyone was here, Agent Romanoff was smiling, Maria was laughing,Wanda and Clint telling stories.

It felt joyful.

Stop staring at her 

Then Agent Romanoff’s expression changed, I felt that mine did as well.

What’s wrong?

She was looking at an area filled with children. Dr.Banner was occupying it with a smile on his face as well, but his eyes and his smile were directed to different things.

She’s looking at me

The smile to the children, his eyes to her. I don’t know why, well more like I don’t want to admit why, but when I saw them leave, not in the same direction but in the same implied meeting spot, I felt my chest constrict.

I should leave, I think I’m getting sick

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head in for the night.”

I left.

__________________________________

Once I got to the room, I couldn’t sleep, I paced. Thoughts plagued not only with guilt but realization, that I had fallen captive to my own feelings.

No, that can’t be right

Shes’ found her soulmate, this couldn’t happen.

Nothing has happened

Am I really part of the greedy few that will choose to openly love the taken?

No, you’re not

They are only soulmates though, they aren’t together.

That doesn’t matter

Why am I even thinking about this? Like love is a choice. It’s not, but for me to openly show or acknowledge it is. Yes, that’s it.

I refuse to believe that I have started to fall

I was not going to fall

The door opened, Agent Romanoff came in.

I stopped pacing, in turn finding my previously untouched bed very interesting.

It was silent, she brought a feeling. It was not comfort nor excitement, but a mixture of both and more, it was foreign, it was her. A feeling I would not act on.

“You’re in early”

I turned, she had something in her hands, a styrofoam box, and a water bottle.

“I didn’t feel like staying any longer, you?”

She walked towards me.

“I thought I’d check on you”

“You didn’t eat anything at the party”

She handed me the box, full of food, and the water.

Don’t say it 

“How would you know? You didn’t stay long enough to watch me leave.” 

Maybe my tone was too harsh, maybe the question was a bit accusatory, but whatever it was, it was misplaced. I knew this when she paused, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion, she gave an awkward smile, and she left the room.

I’m sorry

I ate out of guilt.

Why did I say that?

That night, when she had returned, we did not exchange any words. For the first time in a while, the silence was only civil. 

But when we were getting ready for bed, I guess my guilt gave out.

“I’m sorry, about earlier.”

Agent Romanoff looked at me, for someone receiving an apology, she looked like she herself was apologetic.

“It’s fine, it has been a long night. Also, you’re right, I didn’t watch you leave, sorry.”

I didn’t know what to say at that. For someone who can evidently coerce words out of me without knowing it, she truly left me confounded and speechless.

Why was she apologizing

I guess the question was riddled on my face because she changed the topic. She pointed to my case that was currently on the floor, my children’s book on full display.

I looked at her yet again, and I guess she has gotten as good as I have when it came to reading one’s expression because she answered before I spoke.

“I fell asleep before we could finish, read it to me?”

I would love too

“Sure.”

________________________

Confusion, that was all that was written on her face when we finished the book.

“That doesn’t sound right?”

How would you know?

“What do you mean? Have you heard the story before?”

She looked down, contemplating whether to admit to something? What would she be contemplating though? She looked up.

“I was interested in the story, you seemed intrigued by it. I found the same book and read it myself because I was falling in and out of sleep when you were reading, and I couldn’t help but notice the ending was different. Why?”

Oh

I almost got defensive at the question, knowing very well where this topic could lead. It had multiple different outcomes, and none of them I favored. But how she looked, how she sounded when she asked me, how could I be cruel when a question was asked out of innocence and curiosity? What would I be shielding, the truth?

I flipped open the last 20 pages, and I showed her.

Her eyes creased, with understanding and amusement.

“You wrote your own ending?”

I smiled at her amused tone and spoke.

“That I did.”

She turned to me fully now but before she could ask, I answered.

“When I was younger, I used to always love coming to New York because there I had my grandmother. My parents and I weren’t close, still aren’t, that doesn’t mean that we are on bad terms though. They would give me books as a child, whenever they would drop me off at her house, and we would read, all day.”

At the memory, my voice wavered, eyes watered. I looked to Agent Romanoff, who does not know the whole story yet, she was grieving with me. 

Eyes casted down I gripped onto a chair for support, for if I didn’t, I fear I’d go to her.

“But there was a book I constantly kept coming back to, rereading the lines even though I knew them by heart. I looked to it with disdain and yet kept coming back. My grandmother would laugh as I would complain about it and tell me we could read another story if I wanted to, I never wanted to. Then one day, while we were getting close to the end,”

I held up the still opened book.

“32 pages in, she changed the narrative, letting me add on bits and pieces. Still flipping the book even though she had her own story, our own story. I like the alternative ending so much, I ripped out the remaining 20 pages of the book and had her rewrite them as I drew the pictures.”

I let out a watery laugh, it was like the first time we talked, one’s emotions not in fit to the situation, because instead of grief I felt joy.

“We ended up rereading the book more times than the days that I was there.”

When I looked back up, I saw that she was smiling with me, like she was enjoying the memory herself.

She then softly spoke.

“When did she pass? If you don’t mind me asking”

I didn’t want to tell her, because I didn’t want to plague her with guilt. She seemed so diligent in caring for the ones that were affected by the battle you could tell she felt that some of the losses were her fault. They weren’t, at least to me. But the way she spoke so softly like she was recalling her own grief, her own loss, how could I not answer? 

“Three years ago.”

Her eyebrows scrunched. You could tell she was putting together the pieces, making sense of the timeline. The words she said next were rushed, she said them like she committed a crime, like she witnessed a horror.

“I’m sorry-”

I stopped her before she could say anything further.

“Don’t be, it wasn’t your fault. It never was, nor will it be.”

At that she looked at me. Her face a look of confusion and mine understanding. I can’t convince someone to forgive themselves, one can only do that. But I can tell them what I feel. I can show them. 

I took a hold of her hand across from mine, staring at how they intertwined.

“This is not something you have to bear guilt for. Nor do I want you too.”

We stayed like that for a while. Our breathing ragged and heavy from the emotions spilled moments before.

Agent Romanoff rubbed my knuckles. At the movement I looked up. We both gave a soft smile and she spoke softly once again, but this time I enjoyed the sound. She didn’t sound hurt.

“I enjoyed your ending.”

“Did you really? For someone who is adamant on following fate, I didn’t expect you to.”

I was teasing her, she knew it. For all she did when I said that was smile wider.

“Thank you, Agent Romanoff, the ending was my favorite.”

“Call me Natalia - or Natasha, whichever one you prefer.”

That’s new

She looks nervous now.

I didn’t question it, like she didn’t question me when my breath hitched.

“Okay, Natalia, thank you.”

Later that night, I was unable to sleep. So instead, I worked. I was looking over the layouts and some new specs, Agent Romanoff- I mean Natalia was still up. She was on a couch, this hotel being a little more spacious than the last one.

Her eyes were following something only she could see, I looked at her forehead, the wound fully healed.

Good

I heard Dr.Banner and a few of my colleagues pass the door, her eyes following.

Oh

Then she glanced at me.

“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?”

That was random

“Why the question? Do you miss him?”

Say no, please

“No, but I feel as if I am missing out on something that is a given”

Huh

What I asked next surprised me.

“Why did you not work anyways? You know, with both of you believing and all”

She stilled at that. Did I ask a bad question?

Yes, you idiot

She didn’t seem to think so, because she answered.

“We just didn’t work. I met him, thankful I had a soulmate. He met me enamored. At the start I thought we were playing all the right cards, checking all the boxes. Got his number? Check. Go on a first date? Check? Kiss? Did that. We were doing what couples were supposed to do. But I could never check off “I love you.” You could tell we both felt trapped. Either from the string or based on the fact we both felt like monsters that the environment around us created, we understood each other in that way. I guess. We shared interests, but interest alone was not enough. I thought if I kept trying, we would work, fate gave me someone to love, and they were supposed to love me right back. It was what my child self would have wanted, my perfect ending. It was being handed right to me, all I had to do was act and feel the part.”

She paused, smiling like she was reminiscing on a humorous mistake. Shaking her head slowly. 

“But I could never, I felt like an imposter to my own story. Then he flew off. Literally”

She smirked for a second, looking at me, and I could not help but join.    

“No goodbye, barley a hello. Then everything we supposedly had was gone.”

She tilted her head, like she was questioning something, like she was questioning herself.

“It was weird though, because I never felt like I lost anything. I was of course frustrated that everything didn’t fall into place, but everything still felt the same before we met. It was like I was moving just in accordance and not on feelings.”

“He, of course, felt the same. But he wants to try again. Claiming he loves me. Now? Now I don’t know what to feel, or what I feel about it. But I do know that I feel guilty for not using fate’s leverage for a happy ending. You know how many people don’t get that?”

You shouldn’t feel guilty for other people’s misfortunes 

She wasn’t looking at me now while she spoke, instead she settled on looking at the old unused box tv. I had nothing to say, for what would I say? Would I give my condolences on something she clearly was guilt driven to want?

Does she still want me to answer? Should I be honest?

At the silence she looked at me. I don’t think I could lie if I wanted.

“Your turn. Answer my question, and be honest.”

Oh, okay then

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen.

“I just think our society’s interpretation of it is systematic.”

“Systematic?”

She raised her eyebrows, her tone amused, but asking for more than just that. So I turned, and went on.

“Soulmates are a systematic love, by thinking that there is someone out there built for you, you not only are under the notion that love is someone, and not something, but that the love may undeniably work because it was meant to. That you should put effort into it because they are the one. But what about fates deemed others?”

I looked at her, she shrugged.

“Is it based on your belief that you will meet your soulmate one day that your dedication to the one you chose to love wavers?”

I looked down.

This is the part where you stop

“Are people simply each other’s past time, due to the fact that they have not found the one? And if so, why do they think that would make they’re companionship with they’re so-called “soulmate” special?” 

You’re talking too much 

“Don’t you think if  love is simply treated as a comfort, a task, as well as a self indulged burden, that this is all it is? What makes you think it will change when you find them? Are you simply putting more effort because fate told you too?”  

Now what you’re saying, is too much

“Thus saying love should not only be a person’s physical touch nor body as many like to say, but the act in which you both chose to do, memories in which you both indulge in and patterns in one in which you both seek.

Love should not be entangled by fate, but fate and love should both be entangled by you.”

Okay now, Stop talking 

She kept looking at me. Listening, absorbing my words. Wanting more, I didn’t stop.

“And if you do love someone out of the factual belief that it is fate, or even a pass time. Then it is not love, it is self indulgence in others feelings for you, the security that you are supposed to be together, because fate deemed you as such, treated like a burden because we cannot unknot the given, love now has been treated like a cell. Our love now prisoners of fate.”

Stop

I didn’t.

“I was taught that love should not be perfect, nor should it be cruel, it should be paved by the people that it is built by, it should feel like it belongs to you.”

“It should not feel automatically built, for how are you supposed to operate a machine if you do not understand the parts?”

I pointed to specs of the trains that Stark wanted to build. 

I looked at her, yet again. She looked at me, with a tilted head, and a question in her eyes, this time I could not answer, for I did not know what she wanted answered. Instead, I asked a question.

She’s not saying anything. Don’t

“Don’t you think it’s a bit hypocritical for people to be following fate, but straying from the path once their patience wears thin?”

I asked another.

“How is it if the love is chosen by you and not by fate it is seen as wrong? How is it love if you do not choose it?”

Finally, I answered the root of her question.

“I don’t believe in soulmates, because loving someone is a choice that someone else is letting you have the privilege to do, not because prewritten fate deems you as a match.” 

We stayed there, staring.

“Expressing love should be a choice, not a fulfillment.”

She sat there, not saying anything. She looks like she’s contemplating.

But, what? 

She got up and left the room.

I guess this is the worst that can happen,

Get up

I didn’t get up. But I did watch her leave.

What would I be chasing anyways? 

For some reason, my head did not answer that question, the feeling in my chest did, and I don’t even know what that feeling is.

Get up

Shit. I got up, I walked, searched, I didn’t find her.

___________________________

Natalia had been acting different these past few days, not distant, but different. Instead of being beside me she would be paces behind. 

Not exchanging words but instead we were exchanging glances. 

I don’t know what the change was about, she didn’t look mad, her stares didn’t hold any resentment, so this couldn’t be about what I said, could it?

No, why would your words matter to her?

No, it couldn’t be about what I said. 

Why do you care anyway?

I don’t.

Liar 

I am a liar, but I am no fool. Right?

Wrong

I knew why I cared, and I am not willing to face it. What is the point of admitting to something that now one else knew? I would just be stuck with my thoughts and the feeling of self-served pity once fate dealt out the outcome, I knew was likely to happen.

So, if I knew the consequences, if I knew the outcome.

Why was I contemplating it?

Maybe I am foolish. People think that fools are those who act silly, those with wild thoughts and proposed ideas that are beyond the reach of humans. But if one truly believes in what he says, can he truly be a fool? Are we not just his opposing audience? What separates a fool and a self-driven person? Perspective?

What separates a fool and one who is not properly educated? Our awareness?

Fools are those who act even when they know what they are doing is wrong, when others oppose, they do not care to listen, those who carry out the act knowing fully well they may not believe it.

So yes, I guess I am a fool.

Yes, you are

Because I know fully well, one cannot fall if they had already fallen.

She’s not here

I had already fallen.

That doesn’t matter, go to your bed 

I was, have been, in love, well not in love. 

I think you need them to recuperate feelings for that.

Get under the covers 

But I do indeed love. 

Flip the pillow, it’s too warm

This wasn’t infatuation, no. This was not a scratch I wanted to itch and then forget once I had my fill. I did not need to love them, I did not need their existence by my side, nor did I need to feel their touch, no.

Now close your eyes

I wanted to.

I wanted to love them.

I wanted to love her.

Sleep

I tried to sleep, but then.

What the fuck

_____________________________

Yellow?

No, it’s a bit too dark to be yellow, 

Gold?

Is it glowing? No, nothing in the room’s lit up by it, right?

I sat up, tried grabbing for it.

Weird, it slipped through my fingers

Is this a hoax? I looked around the empty room, no it can’t be. No one’s here.

Wait

Is it moving? My eyes followed the line? String? I have no idea. It went through the wall, moving every which way. 

I went up to follow it, but.

The door swung open,

Natalia?

My eyes widened, realization hit. I no longer had to follow the string. 

She looks freaked out, she is freaked out

“Are you okay?” I asked. 

Do you see this too?

She looked at me, confused, “I was just about to ask you that.”

Do you know what this is?

“I’m fine, not hurt.”

Don’t freak out, she may not know

“Okay, well then, I’m just going to go finish documentations of the victims we found with Clint.”

I looked over her shoulder, Agent Barton was there with his bow, looking alarmed.

“Okay then, well, I’m going to sleep. Goodnight Natalia, Agent Barton”

You don’t know? 

“Goodnight.”

I heard Agent Barton question the name I used, but I heed no mind because, she couldn’t see it.

I didn’t sleep, couldn’t sleep, because what the hell was that? I searched my mind in hopes of an answer. Avoided looking at the moving string that would sometimes come into view if my eyes were not focused on the ceiling.

A soulmate string?

No, they’re all red

I looked at it, still golden.

It would have appeared the first time we met if we were soulmates.

I flopped on my bed, an exasperated sigh leaving my lips. What does this mean? Have I done something to upset fate?

I look to it once again, now I know who it was following, and that person was making their way to the room.

No, would fate be that cruel?

Maybe, but I don’t want to stay up late enough to find out. Natalia opened the door, I closed my eyes.

Tomorrow, find out tomorrow

I’ll have to wait.

My team was on lunch break. My hands flew across a keyboard. A private browser, clearly in use for what I was searching was far too important to share with anyone else.

“Gold Strings”

No, not for sewing.

“Different colored soulmate strings”

No, all these articles were about gray ones.

“How being colorblind may affect how you see your string”

Wait what? That’s new, am I - no, no you’re not. Idiot, focus. 

“Late soulmate string?”

Again, more articles about gray ones.

“Golden soulmate string?”

This had to work.

Or not, sewing, crochet strings, knitting strings, engagement sites, a restaurant? Really? What the hell was I going to - 

“Hey.”

Shit

Before I closed the tab, I caught a glimpse of a headline.

“Women claiming to see yellow string, even wrote a book about it. Critics and residents deem her crazy.”  TheGolbesMostRecentNews.com 

“Hi, Wanda.”

Smile, she seems worried 

“Your thoughts are always loud, but you seem to be thinking more than usual.”

I forgot she could read minds

“You listen to my thoughts?”

We talked so often about other things that the thought of her having powers skimmed my mind 

“No, but I can feel the commotion behind it, like how you can feel the silence in the night, I would also never do that to you without asking first.”

I know, I just wanted to make sure

“I didn’t think you would.”

She looked at me and her eyes drifted to the computer, she looked confused to what I was quarreling with, as now it was just the default wallpaper that came with all the computers.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

Shit, Maria 

Wanda and Maria looked at one another, then backed to me. Wanda waiting for an answer and Maria waiting to be informed.

Should I trust them?

Wanda’s your friend, Maria as well, all though we could be closer 

I could trust them right?  

You don’t know how they feel about soulmates though

What was I supposed to do? Lie? With them both looking at me with concern, that didn’t seem right.

“Is this about what happened?” Maria spoke, softly.

What? What happened?

I look at each of them confused.

“You know, about the incident, you don’t have to be afraid to talk about it.” Maria said, while looking at me.

“We’re always here for you, most people have emotional trauma after things like that, would you like to talk about it?.” Wanda looked at me too now, concern and sincerity on her face.

I felt guilty, but now it looks like I don’t have to lie. I shrugged and shook my head. It was true. I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to read that article.

_________________

The article was written 20 years ago, a couple in their 50’s claiming that they saw “yellow” strings. Most of the claims were from the woman, who had written a book about their experience. Most of the reactions were backlash.

“How could you be so cruel to come up with a lie like that?”

“I bet they’re just doing it for money”

“Hahaha if we get to pick colors I want mine to be a brown, because this is bullshit”

I looked, the books were off the shelves, no company had them and no one was able to sell as it became popular within the book society to burn them once they read through it, seeing it as an act of defiance for the written lies and the fool of an author.

The couple faced so much backlash that they moved states, according to the article.

I know that this is morally wrong, but I looked. I asked Agent Barton for a favor.

“Hey Agent Barton”

“Hi, and you can call me Clint , I mean you are Nat’s friend, right?”

I suppose so 

“Yeah… I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I would like you to track down these two civilians.”

I handed him the names, last public location, and photos I found of them. He looked at me, concern etched on his face.

“You do know you don’t have any authority or authorization to do this, right?”

I smiled.

“Which is exactly why I’m asking you, think of it as pay back for helping your best friend?”

He raised his eyebrows.

I lied

“Also, Natalia asked me to ask you, mumbling about dealing with an annoying Dr.Banner?”

 And I’m glad I did, because at that he caved 

Which is why I, one of the leaders of the S.R.R. project, am currently on a plane to Spain.

 The articles got that wrong, they didn’t move out of state, they moved out of the country. 

Honestly, I’m surprised that worked

To pull this off I made sure Natalia was in the room before I left. 

I told everyone I would be working late on the job site.

They found this normal as I have been planning this for days, so I changed my schedule to fit the narrative instead of doing my work in the hours of the day, I did them at night. 

Normally Natalia would “stay up” with me, and by stay up she means physically be there but she was mostly asleep, but tonight she and Agent Barton had to go over some things regarding supply.

So instead Maria offered to stay with me. I lied, saying I was heading in. I thought about lying, saying I had a family emergency, but then I would need an escort all the way back to America, and I was not going to America. 

Also, I’m pretty sure that you also need family, well family you are close too, anyway, for that idea to work.

Is it bad that I’m relieved that I didn’t have to lie to Natalia?

Nope

Could have I even lied to Natalia?

No

Guess I’ll never have to figure that out.

Normally, lying to people I deem as friends would fill me with guilt, but I was far too curious to let my emotions take a hold of me now, and I was far too scared, because what would this mean for Natalia. What would this mean for my unknown soulmate?

I have no idea

I looked at my phone. 

12:20 a.m.

The flight should take around 2 hours and 15 minutes, it was a one way trip. That’s 4 hours and 30 minutes in total. I have to get back to the work site before 6:00. That gives me a 3 hour and 25 minute opening to find the woman I was looking for.

I could do this 

_____________________

I could not do this. I have been stuck in Zaragoza for 30 minutes. With how long it took me to get from where I am from the airport, that was too long. If I kept this up, I would be flying back with nothing but a noticeable loss of around $900 from my paycheck, and that’s if I make it to the next flight, if I don’t, I can say my goodbyes to, well, everything.

2 hours and 55 minutes 

I looked down at the updated files. There were two locations.

Weird, why are they only under one name? Weren’t they Married?

I guess I shouldn’t judge, I mean, one I have no time for it, and two. Maybe this Mary Flores liked her space.

I guess we’re going to an Elders home, they had to be there, right?

Wrong, I asked the receptionist who replied solemnly that she had no idea where the residents went.

It’s still dark out, where could they have gone

She did say though, that she was happy that family was finally starting to visit them, apparently there had been no visitors ever since they resided here. 

I didn’t have the heart to correct her that I in fact, was not part of those related.

She did give me a weird look every time I said “them” though, and an even weirder look when I brought up Mary Flores.

I didn’t have any time to question her though, I was down 24 minutes.

2 hours and 31 minutes 

I stopped when I saw the next location. A museum? Okay then. Let’s hope I find the exhibit I’m looking for.

Damn, is this the place?

This so-called museum was seated in between an alleyway with various stores to its left and a connected wall to its right, the doors were big, but they were withered from rainwater, the walls a shade lighter than they were supposed to be due to sun exposure. The inside was hidden as all the windows were covered with a sheet of material, and those that weren’t covered were boarded up because glass was broken.  

2 hours and 11 minutes

Despite my better judgment or lack thereof, I got out of the rental car I had been using and made my way up the three steps that lead to the door.  

I knocked. 

No one answered. I could always break inside.

No

Did I really just come here to leave empty handed? I knocked again.

Again

And again, and again. I was getting frustrated, I wanted to know, please.

What if they don’t know

I stopped. They may not know though. Like many people speculated, they could have just done it for attention. It could be a hoax, and I could be knocking on a deranged couple’s door.

But what are the chances they see the same thing you do 

They said it was yellow, mine’s in fact gold. I’ve checked again and again, and no one can see the same thing I do. You can’t see the individuality of one’s love.

At that I stepped back.

2 hours and 6 minutes 

I started walking back to the car, as I did, I noticed something. My car was the only one in the lot. Meaning, that they probably weren’t here. 

Idiot

I waited.

1 hour and 50 minutes 

I was starting to give up, once that 50 turns to 30. I’ll have to start going back if I want to make my flight. 

My hope was drained but my persistence was not, and I’m glad it wasn’t because a car pulled up.

It was a sun-bleached blue truck, obviously old, the fenders rusted, and it made an ungodly sound. Then came out a man, movements that looked stiff from age is what compelled me to get out of my car and help him when he started carrying paint gallons. 

“Here, may I help you?”

He looked hesitant, but I guess the strain from the weight was too much for him because he nodded to the car and responded, “There’s more in the back.”

As I went to grab the paint situated in a box, I could not help but notice the color labels on top; “Emperor’s Red silk”, “Well water Blue”, “Sleepy Green”, “Princess Pink”, “Wealthy Purple”, “Royal Blue”.

Weird

I may not be an artist, or an interior designer, but this seemed like a lot of colors for an alleyway shop.  

Then I turned, and I in fact was right, because he was not entering any shop. He was on his way to the front steps of the museum.

____________________

I looked down at the box of paint yet again, under the color labels was a name, a surname, Flores.

The paint was quickly forgotten, instead I found my feet rushing me to the entrance of the building.

I’m ecstatic, finally I would get some answers. My excitement seen through my expression and the tone of my voice when I stated, “You’re Mr.Flores! Mary Flores husband! May I ask some questions regarding her book? The strings? Where is she?!”

He apparently did not share my excitement, for when her name left my lips he turned, anger apparent on his face, trying to shoo me out. “No, you may not, and you’re no longer welcomed here! Leave with your questions, I no longer want your help!”

Before he could push me out the door, I held it to a stop, him struggling to close it, me desperate for answers.

No! no!

“No, please. I just want answers!”

“I said no, now leave!” He gave another push, closing me out a little. The only thing I see fully now is his head.

“Please! Please, I see it too!”

He stopped at that, with a look of suspicion he eyed me. I reached my free arm to my back pocket, grabbing the printed article and presented it to him. “I see it too.”

He glanced down at it, his expression somber, then he looked back up, “How do I know you’re not lying, trying to color me a fool?”

He didn’t. What am I supposed to say to that? What I first mistook as purley anger looked like frustrated gloom on his face. I stepped back, defeated.

“You don’t, all you have is my word, and I in all sincerity only came with questions that I myself cannot answer. I do not know why I see this string, all I know is that you were the first on record to have experienced it. You are the only one I can turn to that may have answers, but if you are unwilling to share, well then. I am sorry to disturb.”

He stared at me, I turned defeated, and started walking.

1 hour and 20 minutes 

I had to leave now.

“Wait.”

I turned and looked at him, he huffed and grumbled. But then he opened the door a little more, turned his body, and invited me in.

“Get the paint, then maybe I’ll answer some questions, kid.”

I smiled, I could spare a few minutes.

“Thank you.”

I was seated in an old cushioned lounge chair, in the middle of what was supposed to be an exhibit, my view lit with a table lamp and the little light that seeped inside. There were two sets of stairs connected to the far left and right wall, they connected to an overhead indoor balcony that led to what I assumed, more rooms. They must treat this place as storage though, and not what it was intentionally built for because everything else I could see was covered in old painters plastic, too much dust accumulated on the covered objects for them to be newly covered.

But then why the paint?

I did a once over of the lit area.

And the work platforms?

I don’t know, I haven’t known a lot recently. So instead of wasting my time on a question I could live without answered, I questioned him with the only thing I came for; 

“You said you saw yellow strings, when did it start? How?

He looked at me with conviction. Had I said something wrong? Surely not, he may just anger easily.

“They weren’t yellow”

I contorted my face in confusion

“But the article said”

“Well the article was wrong. They lied, the strings we saw were golden, glowing, and they were beautiful”

I paused, golden.

“When did you and Mrs.Flores start seeing these strings?”

“That’s not her name.”

What?

I gave a nervous, airless, chuckle.

“What do you mean that’s not her name? You are married, are you not?”

I must have said something that bothered him once again, because he casted his eyes to the floor and took a seat of his own.

“We were.”

Were?

He took a deep breath.

“Mary Duran, that’s her name. She was, is the love of my life.”

Was, oh no 

“What happened?” I spoke softly even though I already knew. I’ve heard grief too much in my life for it not to be recognizable.

I guess his grief outweighed his anger, because instead of yelling again, he confessed.

“That book, that stupid book”

He said it like it put a foul taste on his tongue.

The book?

Then his expression changed, he smiled lightly, like he was remembering.

“Mary always wanted others to know about our love, she wanted people to know that it was possible you could love without the string. I told her not to, but my love for her outweighed my doubt and I caved, supporting her as she wrote it. We eloped privately. Bought this building, multiple actually, in hopes of turning it into a learning place so people could understand what our string was, what they could have.”

His smile widened, “She thought we could do anything.” Then, he turned tight lipped.

 “But then. Then the back lash came, we were outcasted from most of our community and family, telling us we were selfish for leaving the other end of our string alone, even if we weren’t with them. Our known soulmates making public statements on how they felt alone even if we barely knew them, the public eating it up. I guess you could say everyone hated us, simply because they didn’t believe love could be different.”

They knew their soulmates?

“Mary, Mary didn’t pay attention to our angry audience, she just laughed it off, telling me they would learn, hoping they would, and if they didn’t? She had me.”

“But me? The pressure got to me, I loved her dearly but I guess I was too scared to express it, because when people came asking me about my wife’s book.”

Oh no

He paused. My body tensed with him.

“I lied, told them she fabricated it. That I was indeed in love with my soulmate, that night my string went away, only leaving my red one, which I followed in hopes of being accepted by others again. But my soulmate, the person that ridiculed me because I failed to love them, ran away with another, I didn’t bother to find them. Is that not ironic?”

“I wanted to go back to Mary, but I couldn’t. I broke our trust, and our string was gone so who was I to think she still loved me? Wanted to still love me. I fled.”

I feel sick

He cleaned his fist.

“Like a coward, I fled, left her everything. But one day, someone came knocking on my door, they handed me a letter, saying they were sorry for my loss and that they were part of a law firm informing me to come collect my assets. The letter was from Mary, she wrote that she still loved me and that her string never went away, but the glowing faded. That she was happy for me and my soulmate, and that it was okay if I no longer loved her. That if I got this letter it means she had passed.” 

“I wept, in confusion, anger, grief. I thought she couldn’t find me because we weren’t connected, not because she wanted me to be happy.”

I feel like I’m gonna throw up

He gave a pained laugh, his eyes watery. Mine were too, for him or for her? I don’t know. I guess my feeling of disgust for what he had done was painted on my face, because he looked away before he carried on.

“Then I realized, my string was the one to dwindle, the one to cease. The strings weren’t a symbol of love coming together but for love to exist, the glow coming from harmonization. When I opened my eyes after I wept, after my fear of loving her had left and been replaced with guilt, after I realized I wanted to love her like I used to and not from memories or in my dreams. The string came back, exactly the same as before, glowing.”

What? Glowing?

My eyes drifted to mine, was it glowing? It did not light up the room? Was it supposed to? How would I know? Did it change since the last time I looked at it?

“It led me to her last place of life, which was here.”

At that I turned back to him. He was smiling now, taking deep breaths.

“I may have comfort knowing she still loves me, but I will forever regret being too fearful to love her back. For letting her know my string no longer existed.” 

Loves?

“Her name is Mary Duran, the woman who taught me to love. Not Mary Flores, the woman I ran from. I do not deserve for her to harbor my last name.”

He turned to me, waiting for a reaction.

I didn’t look at him, my mind still on the last thing he said.

“Loves?”

There wasn’t much context, but I guess he knew what I meant.

“Yes, loves. The body may die but a soul never does, instead choosing when to cease into existence. I know she loves me, because I still see her end of the string move when I tell her I love her too.”

Amazing

I didn’t say anything. Questions answered within the story and the ones that weren’t paled in the weight of the situation.

58 minutes

I should leave.

“Thank you for your time, Mr.Flores.”

I got up, but as I was about to leave, something caught my eye. The colors on the wall, over the time Mr.Flores has started his story and when he had ended, the sky had gotten brighter, light painting it with a sun set.

What I thought were blank walls I knew now were paintings - no, stories. An unfinished woman in red, dancing with a man in blue. These people did not have faces, but they were drawn with so much detail, you could tell the artist knew them. 

I looked farther down the wall, flowers of pink and purple, green leaves and vines enclosing them. Now I knew what the paint was for.

“That’s her.”

I turned, his gaze to the art, “My Mary.”

“It’s beautiful.” I replied.

“She truly is.”

I turned to leave, then my string moved.

Shit

_______________

The door burst open, Mr.Flores screamed. Why hadn’t I noticed sooner?

Idiot, you were distracted by the story 

“This is S.H.I.E.L.D get on the ground! We have the area surrounded!”

Maria

This was just like what had happened before, except unlike last time nothing happened. I was safe. Last time there wasn’t an old man, last time I was hurt, and last time Natalia didn’t rush towards me, at least I don’t think. 

Her hands flew to my face, examining it. I put my hands on top of hers, letting her.

“Are you alright? You don’t look hurt?”

If she didn’t sound so panicked, I would have basked in the feeling of her hands cupping my face, her thumbs rubbing my face.

“I’m fine! I’m fine. Don’t hurt him.”

At that she looked at me and her whole exterior changed, she put down her hands and gave me a look, a questioning, angry look.

“Then what the hell are you doing here?”

I wanted to tell her, I really did, but what if she couldn’t see the string? Would I ruin this friendship? Coworkship? I don’t know exactly where we stand. Insead, I answered her with a plea, the only one I could think of right now as I glanced back at the agent’s cuffing Mr.Flores.

“Natalia, don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything.”

She glanced back, taking in the whole scene before turning to me, her face and eyes stoic to anyone who didn’t know her, very angry for those who did.

“We will discuss this.”

I tilted my neck down, eyes finding the ground.

There’s no way I can avoid that conversation 

She turned and left, telling someone to take me to the car.

The flight back was awkward. Others not knowing why I did what I did. Maria giving me confused, untrustworthy glances, silently asking me why I lied to her. I couldn’t answer, I could only say sorry. 

The whole flight I had my eyes casted to the ground as I stood. We were on a jet. A public plane not useful for active S.H.I.E.L.D agents.

The feeling of embarrassment is probably why I went to Natalia and I’s room so fast after I said my apologies.

Now, now I was staring at the floor, Natalia’s eyes boring into me.

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell you were doing, or are we just gonna stare at random objects the whole day?”

I stayed quiet. She grew frustrated.

“There’s a reason why protection was assigned to you. You could have died!”

She wasn’t yelling, no. She has never yelled at me for as long as we’ve been here, for as frustrated as she grew. Yelling was far too uncomposed for her, but with how much tension was in her voice and frustration she gave off with her tone and body. You would think she was.

I said the only thing I could think of.

“But I didn’t”

She let out a chuckle, like she found the response unbelievable. 

I stood, not wanting to be still under her gaze when she was upset with me.

“Not this again! It doesn’t matter if it was an old man, or a child for that matter! If you’re not gonna tell me why, at least tell me what you were thinking!? Also, really. Lying to Clint!” 

I didn’t want to answer with a lie, so I deflected with a thought.  

“How’d S.H.I.E.L.D even find me? Did you guys track my phone or something? Put a tracker in my bag?”

The question was asked with innocent intention, I truly just wanted to know.

“No but we should have! With you running off like that!”

“Then how’d you find me!”

My voice arose with misplaced malice, covering my built up frustration with the past day’s events. My tone now matching Natalia’s, if I could match her tone, that is.

We were both standing up now.

“What do you not want to be found?”

She extended her hands, moving them face up like the answer to my question was obvious, and it was.

“No, I just wanna know!? I won’t be mad, just tell me. Was S.H.I.E.L.D tracking me?” 

“No!  S.H.I.E.L.D was not tracking you. I followed you after I woke up and you weren’t there!”

What does that mean?

Our voices abruptly stopped, the only sound you could hear was the drowned out commotion of people outside. My eyes skimming over the golden string, the question of if it was glowing still apparent in my mind like the first time I saw it. How was I supposed to know if it was glowing if it had always looked like this?

Surely she can’t mean that? She has Dr.Banner

My eyes met Natalia’s. She looked scared.

She believes in soulmates 

I hated it.

But I want to know, I want you to know

I made up my mind, there was no point in hiding the truth.

“Don’t be scared.” I softly, looking at her. My eyes watering, not from the fear of rejection that I was wrong or because of the possibility I was right. But because I was scared.

I don’t care about getting hurt anymore, about you walking away, I can deal with it, I just want you to know 

I had already come to terms with being a part of the fallen, now it was my turn to be a part of the confessed.

“I see it too.”

Natalia’s eyes widened.

___________________

“You do? What color?”

Relief, happiness, excitement. Words cannot define what I felt when she inadvertently confirmed she too saw what I claim to see. I chuckled on how she asked, wanting to make sure she didn’t interpret my words wrong. Wanting to make sure we’re both talking about the same thing.

“Gold, Natalia. Like yours.”

She gave me a bewildered look, like she wasn’t expecting any of this. Like she was living in a far from reality dream.

“So, what does this mean?”

“That’s why I left, I wanted to know also. Let me tell you?”

We looked at one another, the atmosphere of the argument dissipating. Instead being replaced with wonder.

“Please.”

After I told Natalia of my adventure. She made me vow never to do it again. She also was intrigued with the whole story.

“So, they had one too?”

I nodded. We sat there in silence for a bit, processing everything, enjoying the proximity of one another.

She turned to me.

“When did you first see the string? When it started glowing, right?”

Right

I thought for a bit, “A weekish ago, so yeah. You?”. She looked down a bit, her face flush with what I now know to be embarrassment. “You don’t  have to tell me Natalia.”. She shook her head, “No,no. It’s fine”. “It was after the work celebration at the hospital, after you read me the book.”

She smiled, recalling that night. I did as well.

“I don’t know what changed but something did”

“Would you like to know what changed?”

I asked her, insead of an immediate answer, she turned her eyes to me, studying me, observing me. I let her.

“No, I don’t think it would change anything.”

I smiled at that, whispering.

“Really? You think so?”

I leaned closer to her, her voice mimicking mine.

“Yeah.”

And she leaned right back in towards me, meeting me halfway.

Whoever said a kiss should feel like fireworks must have been driven off of lust, because I felt like I was soaring, floating, and falling all at once, and unlike fireworks, I could do this forever.

After the confessions, Natalia and I left our room. Unfortunately we still had work, and tomorrow would be very important as we had some Slavokian transport administrators coming down to look at what we had been planning. Making sure that the train stopped at locations where all their products could be reached without them having to up their oil prices with their own transportation units.

I was looking over the specs of the trains and the drafts for the mass transit when Maria Spoke came up to me.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy I found you!”

I looked to her with confusion, “Yes?”

“Okay so you know how the Slavokian transport administrators are coming down tomorrow? Well, it looks like they really wanted to see it because they’re coming down, today.”

Well okay then

“Well, I’m happy to hear that?”

I guess

“At what time will they be coming?”

Maria looked past my shoulder, and lowered her voice.

“Right now.”

I turned, and I was met with 4 faces, one red string.

What. The. Fuck

_________________

The woman on the other end of the string stared at me, a smile on her face as I started to shake everyone’s hands out of courtesy. When she shook my hand,  she held on for a little longer. Long enough for me to notice she had a ring on her left index finger, an engagement ring. I detached my outstretched hand as fast as I could and started showing them the layouts. My heart was racing, but not from excitement.

What would Natalia say

The woman shifted closer to me, I moved farther away 

I could just ignore, what was her name? 

I was to distracted with the possible out comes that- 

Look down, her name tag

Julia’s appearance had made, I must have zoned out when everyone said their name, I said mine right? 

I could just ignore, Julia 

No, don’t do that. If it was Natalia, you wouldn’t do that. She could believe in the red string, the nicest thing you could do is be honest with her.

But what would Natalia say?

What would Natalia say?

She has an engagement ring, you’ll be fine she’ll just ignore you

I guess Julia didn’t get the memo, because she kept moving closer to me, and I kept stepping back.

No she won’t we’ve seen this before 

Everything that is coming out of my mouth has been recited, instead of presenting my thoughts to these people, I’m just presenting the plan. My brain full of thoughts far more important to me than transportation.

What do I do 

I don’t know.

You would think someone would cherish the one they claim to love even if others thought they could have better. You would think that the thought they could have better wouldn’t pass their mind if they were happy. Right? Wrong.

We live in a society where people need other people, where getting married, having kids, is not only a memory but an achievement, and that didn’t change when people had the convenience of finding their soulmate faster due to technology. 

People wanted to carry out their lives, and they did. As long as people didn’t know you weren’t soulmates, who were you hurting, right? And that’s true, they were hurting no one. The relationship they had seen as a pastime to others until they found they both found their one, but what would happen if one of them didn’t? There were stories about it, news articles;

“Couple divorces, one claiming they found their soulmate. The other suing claiming to want more money” RedSnews.com

“A 4 person wedding? 2 pairs of soulmates? 1 pair of ex’s? Who would have thought?” ChicagoChainNews.org

“I found my soulmate and my car keyed, victim claims after break-up” New4You.com

“Women outraged after Man claims, “I’ve found my true love” when leaving their 6 year relationship. Although she now claims to have found the one” YourDownTownGosssip.com

“People want to know, Why do people date before finding their soulmate?” TrueLove.org

Nothing’s wrong with wanting to end a relationship, and nothing’s wrong with ending one if you want to, and there is certainly nothing wrong with having more than one. I just find it strange that all these people I read about, hear about, interact with. Treat their relationships like an experience, their current lover just a placeholder. Not the, “It can wait to experience this with you.” But the “I can’t wait to experience you.” Some would say it sounds romantic, lustful. But to me all I hear is someone treating their relationship like a lesson, a learning experience, not a commitment. Can you learn things within your relationship? Yes, always. I just never knew that people didn’t know the difference between a lecture and a life lesson. I was met with this harsh reality when I was younger;

Alice Harper, my then best friend, was telling me about her and her secret boyfriend. My mind was blown, so you can love someone other than your soulmate? Amazed, I voiced my thoughts.

“Do you love him!”

“I mean obviously, yeah”

I was intrigued, for someone who talked about the one all the time, her attitude took a turn. Where did this come from? I had to ask.

“Well, what about your soulmate?”

She looked at me, and snorted.

“What about them? I still can’t wait to find them!”

I was confused at the time, love to me always seen with devotion, and certain promise. I had yet to acknowledge that love could be defined different.

“Oh but I thought you said you loved him, your boyfriend?”

“I do, but you can’t expect me to be with him forever, right?”

I guess she was right, we were still very young. But then she spoke, my confusion dissipated and turned to something along the lines of disgust.

“I mean we’ll probably only be together for a week, and plus this is a great learning experience. How am I supposed to keep my soulmate happy if I don’t know how to do anything?”

“Don’t you think that you should, I don’t know. Not do that? Won’t that hurt his feelings? I heard he wanted to be with you forever.”

And he did, his name was Brain Okley, he was a nice boy, always one willing to help. So when she told me this in hopes of it staying in secrecy I was revolted. I knew at the time that I was not one to say what people did and didn’t deserve, but he did not deserve this.

She laughed.

“Let’s be realistic, we’re in our last year of highschool, going to college. I hardly doubt we’d last anyways”

True. But her intentions mixed with the situation, left me unsettled, uneased. Alice used what she learned like it was information on a page; “You want someone’s number? Smile.” “You want them to do something for you? Cry.” “They’re mad at you? Kiss them, give them a gift.”. One she could recite and read anytime at a problems’ notice, like she wasn’t learning anything, just how to use it. How to implement it in her life.

All this taught me was a simple philosophy, one that we’ve been told for ages; Don’t do things to others if you would not like it done to you. 

I didn’t need the whole story, or an elaborate explanation on how this was a pro to her future for me to know how I felt. A week later I’d comfort a teary eyed Brian. A week later I left a best friend.  

With the same unease coming back to me at the moment, mixed with my thoughts of Natalia and my eyes going to Julia’s ring finger, Julia getting closer. I snapped.

“Get away from me!”

I knew I should have waited after presenting the S.R.R production plan. But me knowing what’s right and me feeling what’s right are two different things. We may be soulmates, but Julia’s still engaged, and I’m currently unavailable.

The group of 4 looked at me. The people surrounding us stopped as well. Maria Spoke turned to me wide eyed. I don’t regret making a scene. 

“Why? What’s your problem?! We are soulmates”

With everyone’s head turning to me now, I was ready to lie, deflect. Do anything so I could deal with this once others weren’t around, but then someone caught my eye, someone I would have noticed if they had not been on the forefront of my mind already.

Natalia 

And I couldn’t.

______________________________________

I excused myself, saying I felt overwhelmed, some thought it was joy, other excitement. Only one person knew it was dread. That person followed.

“Is she your soulmate?”

“Yes, by fate. Yes”

Natalia and I were seated on my bed, facing each other, hands clasped together. I could tell she was thinking hard about what she was going to say next, that she was going to say something that she thought was needed, thought was right. But not what was true to her feelings, not what she wanted to stay. 

We stayed like that. I wasn’t going to push her for a response, a reaction. But I did not want to leave her alone. What she said next didn’t shock me, I saw it coming as soon as she decided to put on her mask, to protect her feelings. I would too, if I were her in this situation.

“You should be with her.”

Her face is stoic.

But her eyes are shedding tears 

I knew it was coming, like a fired bullet, you can hear the gun go off but, see it pointed at you. But if you didn’t hurt it didn’t hit you. This hit me.

“Why? Why should I? Do you no longer want me?”

I knew she wanted me, she would have not confessed otherwise. But the thought of her so easily letting me slip past her had me aching in places I didn’t know were capable of feeling this much pain without being physically wounded.

She looked at me like I was crazy, and maybe I was.

“Of course I want you. I want all of you, not this string. I just want you. I want to take you up on your offer to love you. But don’t you think that if your soulmate showed up a day after we confessed that, that means something? Fate may be cruel, no fate is cruel. But I want you to be happy. That girl. Julia,  just announced you were soulmates in front of people you work side by side with. If you reject her, it will have social consequences. Not only that, but what would we say? I don’t want you facing any aspect of rejection for loving me, for me allowing you too. So please.”

I stayed quiet, she did have a point. Everyone knew about her and Dr.Banner’s string. If she and I did get caught before the only one facing social repercussions would have been her, I never thought about that, I was too caught up in the feeling. But I guess she had, and she was ok with that. But now everyone knew about my string, my fate given soulmate, and now the most logical thing for us to do was part paths.

But if life has taught me anything, it was that love held little logic.

I looked at her, she was crying, trying to smile the distress of the situation away even though she was hurting. I wanted to tell her that she had no reason to grieve for something she had not lost, because even if she did reject me, even if she did not confess. She would still have me.

But I knew that she would not try to give up, she thought she was protecting my heart, my future. So instead of confessing and making the action of her rejecting me more unbearable for her, I asked her to do something that she felt she had no freedom to do. I asked her to go against the notion of fate and speak her truth. 

“If you want me then be true to what you want to say.”   

She looked at me, and smiled, crinkling her brow, like she had not the slightest idea of what I meant by that. We both knew she was lying. We both knew that I saw through the facade. 

“Natalia, please. Be honest.”

Like a knife to the skin, I watched her bleed, bleed out her emotions. At that I started crying with her.

“I can’t take that away from you. Your soulmate? Your happy ending? I could never, that’s selfish.Your grandmother would have wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. But if it’s not with me then I’m going to have to live with that. I’m not going to be selfish enough to take it away from you.”

She thought she was selfish, never

Not for that 

“It’s not selfish to want.”

At that I brought her hands to my lips, kissing them, speaking against them.

“Natalia none of those are a given, fate be damned none of those are promised. We aren’t either, our love is not a promise we have sealed. Not something that may go on the promise of forever but it is something that will forever remain in time. My grandmother? Would have told me to take the path that I wanted. She would have told me I had the choice, and  I’m choosing to love you, to show it. Not because I’m under the assumption that we will have a happy ending, and certainly not for you to fill in a spot. I’m doing it because I want to, because I’m choosing to do so.”

I look at her, her hands still entangled with mine.

“Will you choose me too?”     

She looked at me, a small genuine smile playing on her lips, I could not help but follow and smile as well. She leaned her head into mine, foreheads touching.

“Always, forever, as long as you let me.”

Then she whispered words that made me believe in soulmates, if not one given by fate then one found by life itself.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I cannot promise our love will last forever, but I can guarantee that our love is fixed in time. On that notion, on the promise of never being able to go back, but the guarantee that we experienced it; 

I will always be willing to face the consequences   

__________________________

Epilogue

Natalia and I kissed. Then the door swung open.

Shit

“Hey! I heard you found your soulmate! I thought I’d fly over and we could celecbrat-Oh, my, god.”

Tony Stark, my boss. 

Fuck

Natalia got up and explained everything to him, making him swear to keep his mouth shut. Me supporting her in the back, especially when she said he should have knocked. Which he apparently did and we missed it due to…. Well, yeah.

Instead of ridiculing us like I expected, he was in wonder. Asking questions about how we knew. I eventually got to the part about Mr.Flores and he demanded we go take him to see his exhibit. After I rejected my soulmate privately. We did. Natalia scolding me when I accidentally made a wrong turn, “How did you even run away when you can’t follow directions!?”, “You know babe, if you asked I would have come with you”. I almost got into a collision at the nickname. I guess she’s still mad about me sneaking out, huh.

When Stark did meet Mr.Flores, he was intrigued. He also understood why we wanted him to keep everything quiet until further notice, until the project was done, and he did, he kept his word and didn’t utter a single thing about what he saw that day. 

But on the last day, Stark wanted to show us something, and that something was beautiful. Stark decided to invest money in Mr.Flores, helping him with his museum. The once sun-bleached walls were freshly painted, his blue rusted car now and nice red one, and his exhibits, his art. They were all finished.

That day Natalia and I, along with Stark and his family were the first of many to enter the refurbished museum. The Museum of the Golden Strings.

People from around the world came to see it after the Avengers advertised in it. There were still many against the idea, but over time more and more came around.

People started realizing that they didn’t have to listen to “fate”, that they would write their own. More and more people, although still rare, started seeing golden strings. Those that didn’t, didn’t care, because they didn’t need the promise of a tie for them to fall in love. There were still red strings out there, many actually and there always will be. But as long as they weren’t under the notion that they had to be there, that was all that mattered.

I still don’t know if you can rewrite fate, after all you can’t correct the unwritten. All I know is that whether written or not, I chose mine.

I chose her.

[plut00nline]

Fuck it im doing it

My 2020 top 20 movie list

(Disclaimer that most of these weren't made in 2020 but I just watched them this year. These aren't also really in a very particular order but they are lowkey ranked) (i also had to be choosey with the images i out cause of the limit, but yeah dont mind that)

20. The perfection

The plot twist in this movie is *chefs kiss* there was no way for me to predict the ending, bug as far as thrillers goes, it is brilliant. And also, lesbians. It can be a pretty triggering movie for ab*se and general gore, but really I love the pacing and the thrill of it.

19. The shining

Ah yes, a classic horror, and though I may feel iffy about Stanley Kubrick, this movie was pretty good. But I am saying this as a person that didn't read the book. The blood rushing down the hallway was really my favourite visual on the movie. It was a movie that made me felt genuinely scared while watching it, like hiding behind my blanket but also sweating scared, the suspense was pretty thrilling though

18. Doctor Sleep

Man do I love Danny Torrance, and Abra, fuck I love them both. Again, I never read the book, but my ignorance keeps me in bliss. The visuals of this movie are also great, and the emotions this movie puts through? I'm just glad headcanons exist, but really I did enjoy this movie even if it wasn't what I was expecting.

17. Birds of prey

Harley deserved a movie, and the fact that it was directed by a woman makes me love it so much more because we just got to see harley doing the things that she fucking wanted. This movie is wlw solidarity, from Margot robbie to Mary Elizabeth Winstead, women with crossbows? Sign me the fuck up. And from all the DC films I've seen, it's so much brighter, in the visual sense, there's colour! There's character! And not everyone is just brooding in darkness, its the type of movie that would make me actually watch and enjoy DC films.

16. Charlie's angels

Firstly, lesbians. Thank you. But really, its a good action comedy and really I'll jump at the chance to see women kick ass.

15. My octopus teacher

I've never cried over an octopus before, so that was an experience. And even though this is technically not a movie, I still wanted to put it on here cause it was really just a great documentary, especially since it happened in my home country and im very oddly proud of that fact.

14. Knives out

Murder mystery and chris evans go so well together. I have made a longer post, but to sum it up, like most of the movies on this list. The colours and the pacing and just the atmosphere of the movie was spectacular, and even though I couldve guessed the ending, I was still on the edge of my seat for most of it

13. Ready or not

I love this new wave of eat the rich media. Samara weaving is a great actor and I am in love with her and this whole movie. It really was something that I hadn't actually seen before and the fact that the whole curse thing at the end was true was really just wow. Along with eat the rich, I love the feral female energy lately, and the whole white clothing slowly but surely being covered in blood.

12. Geralds game

The line "youre only made of moonlight" lives in my head rent free. This movie, was really an experience and for a movie with only two people in it for the majority, it is really well done. I'll always feel iffy about a man writing a woman's experience (specifically) but I do love the way this movie went, yeah I hated the "Hand" scene, but I still enjoyed the after math of it.

11. The old gaurd

Again, more lesbians, what more could I ask for? The concept for this movie is brilliant, immortal mercenaries is the only trope I want from now on, and found family.

10. Parasite

Again with the eat the rich. This movie was mindblowing, and just, the imagery!! And im glad they didn't dub it in English cause fuck that, I enjoyed it perfectly with subtitles.

9. song of the sea

This movie, this movie! Is so precious and I had that song stuck in my head for days.the name Saoirse is also so oddly pleasing to hear. This story is so beautiful, the music is amazing and it makes me want to be a fae.

8. Scott pilgrim vs the world

This movie really did pass what my expectations for what I thought it was gonna be, the music was amazing, the transitions and editing style was *chefs kiss* and even though I felt like I was in a fever dream the whole time, it'd be a fever dream I'd gladly rewatch.

7. The imitation game

Thank you Alan Turing. This movie recked me, like emotionally, I was a mess when I was done with it, but damn was it good, like I really just felt something while watching it, I mean most.of the movies on this list did, but this one just really hit me in some way.

6. Klaus

At least there are still good Christmas movies being made. Actually, I was a mess for this one too, the second that child got that sleigh thing it was over for my emotions. The whole sirge of turning Santa into this big macho dude really is working out and that's how Santa should always be depicted. I could gush about the animation style of this movie all fucking day, I love it so much (and the shadows!!! Ahh the shadows!) It really is just incredible.

5. I'm thinking of ending things

Hey man, I knew this was gonna fuck me up just by looking at the trailer, but there was absolitley no way to prepare for whatever was about to happen. Even after watching it, I have no idea what happened. But I still found it great, I love movies that give me an existential crisis.

4. Spirited away

All I wanted to do, was eat everything in that movie, even if it would turn me into a pig, holy hells this movie is good. There was just this satisfying appeal to it that I can't quite put into words. Its beautiful like everything studio ghibli movie ever.

3. The Willoughbys

I never knew I needed a found family movie with a bunch of kids that were already family. I've made a longer post about this movie, and I dont think I could really say more, this movie is so fucking touching and I love the direction it went in plot wise.

2. Howl's moving castle

Again, I may not have understood wtf was going on, but I'll be damned if I didn't love every second of it. There is no doubt that this movie is stunning, and I really am a suckered for early 2000's 2d animation, because!!! Look at it!!! Studio Ghibli films always just floor me with how good they look. I really wanna read the book, because I would absolutley love to see a feral Sophie giving howl shit for crying over hair.

1. Us

This movie will always be my no. 1 it is amazing and I love everything jordan peele has done with his movies. Especially for it to have a full black cast, and those black people have darker skin than what is normally shown in media. The feral but also calculated nature of each character is beautiful and nothing can ever make me hate this movie

I hope you enjoyed this incoherent "review" of my favourite movies I watched in 2020, its been a shit show and movies really have been a place of comfort for me. But stay safe and happy new year!

[eggtoasties]

socks of fate

Pairing: Sugawara Koushi/Reader

Rating: G

Summary: Maybe the red string of fate is actually cute patterned socks.

Word Count: 1.8k

AO3 Link: Here

__________________________________________________

Sugawara burrowed further into his jacket against the cold chill of early spring. He walked faster towards the café and relaxed his shoulders once he opened the door and basked in the warm heat. Looking around the coffee shop—light wood with brass fixtures, floor to ceiling windows admitting bright afternoon rays, and an abundance of greenery—he found Daichi and Asahi at a table against the side of the wall.

Catching their attention, Sugawara waved and headed towards them. It had been a while since they had all seen each other—busy with work and adult lives—but, they always made an effort to meet up at least once a month to catch up.

Home-bound, he walked towards his childhood friends. He came up to the table and Daichi and Asahi stood up in response. Asahi spun him around in a bear hug, engulfing Sugawara’s smaller frame. Sugawara pat Asahi’s back and teasingly felt up his biceps through his shirt.

“Still working out, man? You look good,” Sugawara said with a teasing wink which made Asahi blush and stammer.

“Don’t fluster our little man baby,” Daichi said faux-sternly, lightly slapping the back of Sugawara’s head. “It’s good to see you Suga; it feels like it’s been ages.”

Sugawara pulled Daichi into a bone crushing hug, slightly lifting Daichi onto his tiptoes making him chuckle.

“We just got here a few minutes ago, let’s all order,” Asahi said excitedly. “I tried their iced dirty chai with caramel and sweet cream a while back and it was incredible. Daichi blinked at him—he had forgotten Asahi’s sweet tooth. Both feeling bad for the barista, Sugawara and Daichi nodded indulgently to their friend.

The trio went up to the counter and headed back to their table with their drinks. Although it had been a few weeks since Sugawara had talked to his two friends, they fell into easy conversation as if no time had passed between them. They caught up on work, family, friends, random tidbits of gossip, and chattered about nothing in particular.

While absentmindedly listening to Daichi lament about one of his coworkers and Asahi’s gentle consolations, Sugawara looked at his friends seated across from him. It had been years and years since high school. Gone was the round curve of their jaws and the rosy glow of adolescence. Although they were sitting, Sugawara noted the air of confidence that seemed to emanate from the cut of Asahi’s strong shoulders and the pull of authority that orbited around Daichi.

“Hello,” Daichi questioned, waving a hand in front of Sugawara’s face, “are you even listening to me?” he pouted. “I was saying how Hitoshi-san is definitely stealing my lunches and you were too busy spacing out,” he finished with a huff. “Or were you just thinking of Asahi’s arms?” Daichi said, laughing at Asahi’s embarrassment.

Asahi self-consciously crossed his arms over his broad chest and looked away from his snickering friends only to still as something caught his eye. Daichi quieted as he looked past Sugawara as well. Sugawara’s placating trailed off when he realized he had lost their attention and started to turn backwards in his chair.

She was walking towards their table, hips swaying and hands fiddling with the lid of an iced drink. Sugawara turned back, rolling his eyes at their idiocy. He had forgotten that they regressed five years when someone pretty caught their eyes. Trying to start conversation again, he took a plastic knife and tapped it against the side of his cup in mock seriousness. “Gentlemen, if you would be so kind to bring your attention back to me—”

She had walked a little past their table, giving Sugawara what he thought was a dismissive glance—starting with his face and ending at his feet. Rude, he thought to himself, when she suddenly stopped, ice and coffee slushing against the side of the plastic cup, and spun to face Sugawara.

She looked intensely at his honey eyes and he felt his cheeks reddening. From his periphery he saw Daichi tense up and Asahi jump a little at the incoming confrontation. Sugawara smiled nervously and wondered what he possibly could have done to be in the middle of her warpath and immediately tried to apologize.

“Your socks!” she said brightly.

The boys froze in confusion and Sugawara felt the heat rise to his ears. Daichi and Asahi peeked under the table and didn’t even try to hold their laughter in. Sugawara had worn open toed sandals that day. Socks and sandals are a look he constantly insisted to his judgmental friends—birks, he argued, are also comfortable. But, at that moment, he was regretting not going for a more weather appropriate boot. One that would cover the pastel yellow chickens dancing across his ankles. With easter egg hats and baby bunnies. It was a gift from his mom—what monster would deny their mother, Sugawara was internally monologuing.

“A-ah, yeah they were a gift—” he choked out.

“We’re twins!” she shouted gleefully. Setting her drink on their table and reaching down to her boot, she unzipped the side zipper and started one legged hopping in attempts to pull the shoe off. Finally freeing her foot she presented her sock to the table.

They were clearly from the same brand, but instead of the easter motif, her yellow chickens were gathered around a Christmas tree and leaving milk and cookies out for chicken Santa.

Adorable, Sugawara thought.

She wriggled her foot at them before moving to put her boot back on. Teetering a little to the side, about to lose her balance, she let out a little squeak, windmilling her arms to remain upright.

Shooting up from their seats, the boys leapt up to try and catch her, but Sugawara was the first to place one steadying hand to her lower back and another on her shoulder. He ignored the little smirks Daichi and Asahi sent his way as they sat back down.

“Oh my god, thank you,” she said breathlessly. “That would have been so embarrassing,” she muttered to herself. Zipping her boot up and straightening, she looked at the trio and flushed. “Well, thanks for letting me expose my feet to you guys,” she joked while picking her drink back up.

“Thanks again,” she said to Sugawara and walked towards her friends who had been watching and were currently laughing and pointing good naturedly at her.

Dazed, Sugawara looked back towards Daichi and Asahi. Daichi looked incredibly amused and Asahi had placed his elbows on the table, hands cupping his cheeks, looking doe-eyed at Sugawara.

Ignoring them, Sugawara crossed his legs and took a sip of his drink.

“So…” Sugawara drawled, twirling his straw. “Lunch thief?” he said weakly, preparing himself for the onslaught of teasing.

.

As their drinks slowly emptied and seconds and thirds were bought, Sugawara couldn’t help but sneak glances at her. Her back was towards him, but he could see the way she talked animatedly with her hands and nodded vigorously at her friends. He saw the way she threw her head back in laughter and heard it ring across the café.

As the trio’s conversations were dwindling to an end and the sun was lower in the sky, Asahi and Daichi ganged up on Sugawara.

“God, just ask for her number,” Daichi grinned.

“You kept looking at her—I’m pretty sure all her friends noticed too,” Asahi supplied. He dodged as Sugawara’s hand came to swipe at him and Asahi laughed at his friend’s embarrassment.

“C’mon Suga,” Daichi said, “worst case scenario she says no.”

“But who’d ever say no to our Suga baby,” Asahi crooned, exaggeratedly batting his eyelashes.

Huffing, Sugawara complained, “Worst case scenario is that she says no,” crossing his arms as they laughed.

Before they could continue making fun at him, Sugawara delivered swift kicks to Daichi and Asahi’s shins, making them both bang their knees under the table and scowl at him. Running a nervous hand through his hair and trying to look nonchalant, he glared meaningfully at his friends as she started to walk towards him. He tried not to stare while he pretended to make conversation with a disgruntled Daichi and a pouting Asahi, but he tracked her coming closer and closer from the corner of his eye.

“So,” she started, hands in her back pockets swaying slightly on the balls of her feet.

“And that’s why you need to cut down on salt—” he looked at her and felt his pulse in his throat. “Hi,” Sugawara squeaked, sending a kick specifically at Daichi.

“So,” she said again, “I was wondering if we maybe had more in common than just our superior taste in socks,” ending her sentence at a slightly higher pitch. She twirled a strand of hair around her index finger watching Sugawara’s reaction. “Would you wanna get a coffee sometime?” she asked, eyes crinkling down at him. “But if not, totally fine,” she said quickly, “you don’t have to feel obligated because of our, uh, sock solidarity,” she laughed.

Sugawara’s brain stopped and he swore he could feel his heart in his mouth. He felt a surge of relief that he didn’t have to ask her out, and stared at the way her hair fell around her shoulders. He had the urge to run the tips of his fingers across the ends to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Feeling a sharp pain in his shin, he jumped in his chair and shook himself from his stupor. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks as he realized he had been staring in silence, he nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, I’d love to get coffee,” he said quickly, elated at the way she brightened at his response. “H-here,” he fumbled with his phone as he passed it to her. Punching her number in with a grin, she gave his phone back.

“Thanks,” he said softly, staring at the contact information on his screen. “How’s next week Saturday? Twelve-ish?” Sugawara said eagerly, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Sounds good to me,” she said humming to herself. Looking to her right where her friends were unabashedly watching, she laughed. “Text me!” she said, walking away, “see you soon, chicken!” waving at his table.  

Waving back at her in a stupor, Sugawara felt as if his brain had left his body. He hardly heard Asahi’s whoops of encouragement or Daichi’s gentle teasing—he felt his pulse reverberate in his skull. He looked down at his feet and grinned.

As she left the café with one last wave, Sugawara beamed at the two in front of him and shot up from his seat. “Yes!” he shouted, pumping his fists in the air.

Daichi and Asahi leaned into each other and snickered. “Suga, you didn’t do anything,” Daichi said.

In response, Sugawara put his hands behind his head, and stared into the rafters.

“Look at the stupid grin on his face,” Asahi giggled.

Sugawara grinned impossibly harder.

[lotusss-flowerbomb]

Look Back At Me

Florian x reader

Warnings: Smutttttt

A/N: This is my entry for @blackmissfrizzle‘s 2K Follower Celebration & Bad Bitch Challenge!! Look Back At Me by Trina ft. Killa Mike was my song prompt.

Word Count: 2,582

********

"Please leave your message for—" 

You hit end call and tossed your phone onto the bed. This was the third time you'd tried to call Florian and he let his phone go to voicemail. 

Ever since the fight you two had days ago, he'd been ignoring you. No calls, no texts. 

"Fuck him, then," you said to yourself and turned on the TV. 

Seconds later, your phone started vibrating. You wrestled with the covers to find it thinking Florian was calling back. Once you picked it up and saw your best friend's name, you sighed and slid the call button. 

"Hey Bree," you greeted. 

"Biiiiiiitch!! You're not at LUXX?!" She questioned. 

"Obviously not, ma'am, do you hear music in my background?" You sassed. 

"Well, ya boy is posting on his story all up in VIP with Sandro, Masias and some hoes." 

"What?!" You hurried to grab your tablet and went to Instagram. 

Clicking on Florian's story, you watched as he smiled and laughed with his friends. Some chick in a tight green dress sitting closely next to him. 

"Did y'all break up and you didn't tell me?" 

"I mean, we had a fight over something stupid and we haven't been speaking, but a break up is news to me…" 

"Nuh un, don't sound sad. Get dressed. I'll be there to pick you up," she said before hanging up. 

You thought about texting her and telling her that it wasn't worth it, but you weren't gonna sit around with hurt feelings while he partied, so you hopped in the shower to start getting ready. 

********

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when Bree called to tell you that she was pulling into the driveway. You grabbed your clutch, threw your phone inside and headed out. 

"Ooh, you look cute," she said when you got inside of the car. 

"Thanks, boo, so do you," you air kissed her cheek. 

When she pulled up to the club, she gave the valet her keys and the bouncer let you both walk right in. You could hear people grumbling behind you about how they'd been waiting. 

Since everyone there knew who you were, another bouncer escorted you both to the VIP area. 

"We're getting our own section tonight, Leo, giving the boys their space, ya know?" You told him. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, but didn't question it. He sat you in the section right next to Florian's. A bottle of champagne rested in the bucket waiting for you upon arrival. 

Within seconds, Florian and Masias were walking over to the two of you. Bree pretended as if she didn't see them as she popped the bottle to pour the champagne. 

"What are you doing here?" He questioned. 

"Don't worry, I didn't come here to bother you. My friend asked me to come out with her so I did," you shrugged and grabbed your flute. 

"Come here, I need to talk to you." 

"No, that's okay, when I tried talking to you you ignored my calls, remember? Go ahead back over there with your groupies," you dismissed him. 

Florian walked away. He wasn't gonna cause a scene there. If you wanted to be that way then fine. 

"Go back over there with your friend, Masias," Bree said. 

"What if I wanna stay with you?" He smirked. 

"Boy bye!" She waved her hand 

"You've never even given me a chance." 

"Because I know your type and I won't be wasting my time, now go away." 

Masias finally gave up and walked away. You side eyed Bree. You knew that she had a thing for that man and they flirted like two lovesick teens, but tonight she was standing in solidarity with you. 

You waved your server down and asked for more champagne. You figured it'd be safe to stick with that instead of mixing it with hard liquor. 

********

You were on your fourth glass of champagne. You were up dancing to the music and every so often you'd look over just to see Florian staring at you and  made sure to sway your hips perfectly to every beat. 

With the alcohol coursing through your body, you were feeling the vibes and really having fun despite your “ex” being in the section next to you. 

"Ladiieeessss, if you remember this song, I want you to come to the dance floor and show out for me one time!" The DJ announced. 

"If you want it you can get it if you wit it, I'ma hit it flip it rub it dump it smack it look back at I'm an addict—"

"Ooh! That's my shit let's go!" You grabbed Bree's hand and led her down the stairs. 

Florian stood and watched you over the balcony. You and Bree hit the dance floor and rapped along with the words. 

"I got a ass so big like the sun. Hope you got a mile for a dick I wanna run. Slap it in my face, shove it down my throat—" 

A guy walked up behind you and you started grinding on him. Florian's blood immediately started to boil. He knew that you were acting crazy in order to get under his skin. 

"I know how to fuck. I know how to ride. I can spin around and keep the dick still inside. Now ya mouth wide, you lookin real scared. I'ma man eater, head hunter, I'm prepared—" 

You turned around to face the guy and grabbed the back of his head. 

"If you want it, you can get it if you wit it, I'ma hit it, flip it rub it up and smack it look back at it I'm an addict. Look back at me—" 

That set him off. He walked down the stairs slowly and headed towards the dance floor. 

You weren't paying attention to him and hopped up on the platform with the stripper pole as the second verse started. 

"Put this pussy in yo jaws now smack. Like it's Thanksgiving and it ain't coming back—" 

The room was spinning before you could understand what was happening. You yelped and grabbed on to the nearest body, so you wouldn't hit the floor. 

Once you realized it was Florian, you tried to snatch away, but he had such a tight grip on your arm that you weren't going anywhere. 

You had to skip in order to keep up with his quick stride. 

"I have on heels, you need to stop before I fall!" You yelled over the music. 

He didn't turn around, but he did slow down a little. When you got outside, his truck was already waiting at the valet and the attendant had the door open and waiting for you. 

"Get in," he demanded. 

"No, I came with Bree and I'm not gonna leave her," you turned to go back inside, but he grabbed you again. 

He lifted you up and sat you down in the seat, put your seatbelt on and then slammed the door behind him. When he got into the driver's seat, he closed the door so hard you were surprised the windows didn't break. 

The ride home was mostly silent. You rubbed your wrist where he'd been holding on to you. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," he reached over and rubbed the spot gently. 

Your phone started vibrating inside of your clutch. You figured it was probably Bree checking on you, so you answered. 

"Are you okay?!" She yelled the moment you picked up. 

"I'm fine," you shrugged. 

"I was trying to get out there to you, but Masias wouldn't get out of my way," she explained. 

"Don't worry about it. Is he gonna ride home with you? I didn't want to leave you by yourself." 

"Yes, he's riding home with me and his ass isn't even allowed inside. He can wait in the lobby for his Uber!" 

You laughed. You could only imagine how hard she'd just rolled her eyes at that man. 

"Well don't worry about me, I'm fine. You just get home safe and try not to hurt the poor guy." You advised. 

"Okay and Florian, you'd better not hurt my friend or I will come after you!" She hollered. 

"Goodnight, Bree," you laughed and hung up. 

"Does she really think that I would harm you?" He asked. 

"Well, you did just drag me out of a nightclub while your friend kept her barricaded inside," you shrugged. "Also, I don't want to go to your place. Take me home." 

"My place is your home. You're the one who left and went back to your apartment over a petty argument." 

"Petty?!" You screeched. 

"Yes, petty! And then you're in there shaking your ass and being disrespectful." 

"Oh, I'm being disrespectful as if you didn't break up with me??"

He pulled into the driveway and before he could put the truck in park, you were jumping out and walking back towards the road. 

He quickly ran behind you and threw you over his shoulder. 

"Put me down right fucking now, Florian!" You punched his back. 

May as well been hitting a brick wall. 

He set you on your feet once you were inside, but made sure to stand in front of the door, so you couldn't leave. 

"Who said that we broke up?" 

"You not answering my calls and letting your lil bimbo bitch be all over you at LUXX told me everything that I needed to know. But then you get jealous when you see me with another guy? You're full of shit." 

"That's not—" 

"Save it," you cut him off, "I didn't get in the way of you getting fucked tonight, so you shouldn't have gotten in mine." 

You watched his face darken. Of course you didn't mean the words that you'd just so foolishly said, but it was much too late to take them back. 

He walked towards you slowly. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. You backed up until you hit a wall. 

"Shit," you tried to turn and run, but he grabbed you and slammed you back into the wall. 

"You wanna get fucked?" He growled. "What were the lyrics? You got an ass so big like the sun?" He lifted you dress over your ass and palmed it in his big hand. 

He used his other hand to grab yours and guide it to his dick. You could feel him growing hard through his jeans. 

He kicked your legs apart and rubbed his fingers over your pussy. 

"Is this enough dick for that mile ride?" He asked as he slid a finger inside of you. 

You unbuttoned his pants and reached inside to squeeze his cock. He groaned and slid another finger into your core. Working them in and out quickly. It felt so good, you pressed your forehead against his chest. 

He used his free hand to grip your cheeks. 

"Open up," he said. 

You stuck your tongue out as he pulled his fingers from you and stuck them in your mouth. You kept eye contact with him as you sucked on his slick coated fingers. 

Once you were done, he lowered you to your knees. You assisted in pulling his jeans off and freeing his throbbing member. You licked your lips at the sight of him. 

He grabbed your face so you once again opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. He slapped his dick on it and then on your cheek. 

"That’s what the song said, yeah? Slap it in your face? What's next?" 

"Shove it down my throat," you quickly answered. 

He wasted no time sliding into your mouth until he couldn't go anymore. 

You grabbed his ass and pushed him further down. Relaxing your throat, so you could take all of him in. 

Florian threw his head back. A loud groan leaving his lips. He pulled out, because he knew that a second longer would've resulted in him cumming down your throat and he wasn't through with you yet. 

You took a deep breath when he was fully out. Smiling up at him, because you knew why he moved. 

He helped you up and then bent you over the couch. 

"I really don't like the way you were acting. Making that fucker think that he ever had a chance with you," he got down on his knees behind you and sucked your clit into his mouth. 

He licked and sucked on your pussy from the back like a pro. Reminding you of one of the reasons why you put up with his shit. 

You were struggling to stay upright in your high heels and the upcoming orgasm was causing your knees to buckle. 

He turned you around. He wanted to see your face when you came. The way you bit your lip, the way your eyes pinched shut. It was all reserved for him and only him. 

"Look at me," he demanded. "This is my pussy, right?" 

You couldn't answer. Your mouth dropped as a tingling sensation washed over your entire body. You laced your fingers in his short hair as you rocked back and forth over his face. 

He stood and scooped you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he brought you around to lie down on the couch. 

"Answer my question," he said as he trailed kisses from your lips to your throat. "Who does this pussy belong to?" 

"I'm single, remember?" You taunted him. 

"Ooh," he pulled the top of your dress back exposing your nipple. "That's the wrong answer," he said and bit down hard on your nipple. 

Your scream was a mixture of pain and pleasure. 

He turned you on your stomach and grabbed your waist forcing you onto your knees. He slapped your ass twice before thrusting inside of you. 

You screamed and scratched at the couch. He fucked your pussy with no remorse. Undoubtedly making you regret what you'd said to him. 

"Fuck, Florian, you're—" 

"Shut up and take it," he said and grabbed your throat. 

You still tried to run a little, so you laid down flat. Worst idea ever since you were now trapped beneath his large body. His hand pressed into the arch of your back as he fucked you. 

"Look back at me," he turned your head. "Now, whose pussy is this?" He hit you with a hard stroke in between each word. 

"Yours! It's yours baby," you moaned as you felt the waves building once again. 

He gave you a sloppy kiss as his hips started to stutter. 

"Yes, daddy, cum in your pussy," you urged him. 

You tightened around him as you came. Digging your nails into the material of the sofa. That provoked his orgasm and he released ribbons of warm cum inside of you. 

After a few seconds of catching his breath, he pulled out of you and lied down beside you. 

"I'm sorry," he finally broke the silence. "I should have talked to you about our problems instead of ignoring you."

"I forgive you," you reached up to scratch his beard, "just don't let it happen again or I'll knock yo ass out." 

"Oh, really?" He repositioned himself, so that he was in between your thighs. 

You felt him getting hard again and tried to move. 

"Nah, let's see who knocks who out first," he said as he slid into you again. 

You braced yourself. Tonight was gonna be a long night and you were ready for it. 

[notasdriedapricots]

15 for the June prompt list for Liz and Lucas x

Hi, Iris!! Well, it's still June! I made it! With one of these at least. This started out of something I found in the notes on my phone yesterday, and then when I came here to check what was left I remembered this! And it got long because, as we all already know this bitch won't shut up. So sorry, but I started to kinda like it and just kept going. Ah, well, it is what it is.

As always, thank you for sending this! 💗💗

Aprox. 1200 words. (Son of a-)

15. Driving to the airport; from this list.

Lucas threw a side glance at her for the millionth time. For the millionth time he tightened his grip on the wheel as he felt his own heart strangling. She hadn't said a word since breakfast, and it pained him to imagine what was going through her head; through her chest. She stared out the window, her temple resting against the door and her hands clasped between her knees, not moving a muscle to the quiet music playing in the car. Liz, the girl that swayed like seaweed caught in the current to any three notes put together, sat totally still, looking at the passing landscape without seeing it at all.

"Liz?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Uh-um."

"Liz…"

She sighed, her voice calm but impossibly quiet. "We've talked about this. And I told you that you have to go."

They had. And she did. She insisted, threatened to leave him if he pushed his dream aside for her. Said she could never forgive herself if she was the reason he sacrificed that.

"Liz, I don't need it…"

"Bullshit. Your face beaming? The pride in your voice when you talked about it? I treasure that memory, Lucas. Don't you dare tell me you don't want it anymore."

"So you want me to leave?"

"No… But you will leave. You have to. Eventually. And we both know now is the right time." She pushed the computer in his direction before leaving the study, her voice almost getting caught in her throat. "Sign up."

'Bittersweet' was the understatement of the century. He was excited, which made him feel guilty, but also he'd never wanted anything more than to turn the car around, miss the flight, get back to Oxford and spend all day at Marco's terrace drinking coffee with her cuddled against his side. Doctors Without Borders had been his dream for fifteen years, but nine months away from her was a very fucking long time.

A part of him wanted her to be selfish. It wanted her to be happy that he found the idea of leaving her excruciating, to lean on that so that he would stay. But another, bigger part, loved that she hadn't. It loved the horror in her face when he tried to dodge the subject at dinner, and how she'd pulled him away from their friends with a hissing 'What the fuck, Lucas?'. It loved that she loved him enough to put who he'd been and what he'd wanted before meeting her above everything else. And he hated that that same love was going to make her, both of them, miserable until he was back.

Lucas pulled into the airport's parking lot and turned off the engine. He got out of the car, hearing Liz's door open… but not close; he turned to look at her and saw her still in her seat. Walking around to her side, she turned away from him, but not before he caught a glimpse of the trail of tears running down her cheeks. The corners of his eyes started burning too, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he crouched in front of her. She pulled her hands away when he tried to hold them.

"Go get your suitcase," she muttered, holding her breath to keep a sob at bay.

He closed his eyes for a second and then ignored her, reaching for her hands again, twining their fingers this time. She took a shaky breath only to immediately let all the air out in a painful sob. A second later she'd fallen to her knees, her arms around him and her face buried in his chest. He felt like his racing heart was pumping ice shards through is veins. Hugging her as tight and as close as he possibly could, feeling her hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, he was starting to think neither would ever gather the will to let go of the other.

But then he felt her sigh heavily. With a sniffle, she planted a kiss on his chest, on the skin exposed buy the open buttons. And then another on his collarbone. And on his neck. The final one landed on his cheek. She managed to free her arms out of his unyielding embrace and cradled his face, her eyes overflowing with tears and sincerity, painted with a love greater than he could ever feel deserving of.

"I'm so proud of you."

He'd been holding it together up until her words punched the air out of him. "Shut up," he breathed out, closing his eyes again.

"Come on, you won't see me for a year and I don't even get a tear? What an asshole." She let out a shaky laugh.

He smiled. Small, sad, inevitable. "Nine months…"

"… to a year," she added. As usual, she was not letting him fool himself. They both knew it was probably gonna be a year. Maybe more.

Still holding her close with one arm, he brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek, down to her jaw and into her hair. Her hands also moved back to the nape of his neck, firmer this time; she made him look her in the eye again.

"I am so, so proud of you." Her voice was steadier as her nails scraped his skin lightly, just for a moment, emphasizing her words.

He felt his heart swell until it broke. "God, I wish I could take you with me…"

"I will be with you…" She pressed a hand to his chest. "In here."

He had to roll his eyes and contain a smile. "Fuck you."

Liz wiped the few tears that had finally escaped his warm eyes as she laughed. Loud and sparkling, genuine, and he focused all his attention on the sound, knowing that was the last time he'd get to hear her laugh, at least in person, for a long time. They went to speak at the same time.

"I lo-"

Two sets of laughter collided this time. She leaned forward and rested her forehead on his shoulder, chuckling through a new wave of tears. Lucas hugged her tight once more and whispered in her ear.

"I love you, Liz."

She sighed, grabbing at his shirt again. "I love you, Lucas," she murmured against his skin.

After a long moment, he finally stood up, bringing her up with him. He kissed her forehead. "Let's go grab a coffee." He let go of her and grabbed her hand, and she hugged his arm. They walked to the back of the car to get his luggage. "Only two hours until my plane takes off. Then you can go compose a piece about how much you miss me."

She frowned, a tiny but curious smile on her lips. "I've never composed anything."

"Why?" It was clear in his tone that he knew the answer.

It was clear in hers that she knew that he knew. "It's really difficult."

He closed the boot and turned to her. With a finger under her chin, their eyes met. "Well, wouldn't you say what I'm doing is pretty difficult too? What about a little solidarity?" She looked up at him, her eyes silently welling up again. "Come on, write me something."

She swallowed and nodded. "Fine, I'll try. Only so you have a reason to hurry back."

"Liz, I do want to do this but… I'm leaving my heart behind. You know that, right?" He cupped her face again, caressing her cheek with his thumb, and the hand that was still in hers squeezed harder with his last word. "I have every possible reason to come back to you."

[jaskiersvalley]

Just Jaskier

Home. That was what Kaer Morhen was, despite all the agony and anguish it had wrought him and Geralt was oddly keen to show Jaskier. Introduce him to the other witchers and maybe give back a little bit of the kindness and hospitality that Jaskier had always shown him. There was no anxiety from Jaskier’s part, no asking whether they others would like him, whether they would accept him and Geralt felt no need to tell him it was going to be okay. Because even if they others didn’t immediately take to Jaskier (not like Geralt could ever claim to have done so either), Kaer Morhen was big enough that they could minimise contact with the jealous idiots. After all, everybody ended up liking Jaskier, that was just the way things were.

Walking through the keep, Geralt took a deep breath, it smelled like it always had. He was home. They stabled Roach together and Geralt led them towards the kitchen where everyone had a tendency to gather.

“Geralt!” Someone called in joy and there were bodies rising as to greet him as Jaskier stepped into the kitchen one step behind. Immediately, the jovial greetings were silenced and there was a mad scramble for knives, swords and one enlightened buffoon grabbed some garlic.

“What is the meaning of this, Geralt?” The oldest witcher said, a sharp looking carving knife in his hand.

In front of Jaskier, Geralt was frozen, obviously confused by the sudden frosty reception. And the fact that Jaskier was hiding behind his back with a small “meep” didn’t help either. As the silence stretched, Jaskier risked a peek out from over Geralt’s shoulder and took in the knives still pointing at them. Well, him really but Geralt was kind of in the way.

“So this is a bit of a rude greeting,” he risked and the witcher holding the garlic growled.

“Did you bring us live bait for training? An incubus?”

Confused, Geralt peered around, trying to see where an incubus could be hiding. Eventually, his eyes settled on his travel companion. “No, just Jaskier.”

Unfortunately, Jaskier had already taken offence at being labelled an incubus and he sniffed in disdain as he stepped out from behind Geralt. “I prefer succubus, thank you very much. No need to be so sexist, a man can be a succubus too.”

That had Geralt twirling to look at him, wide eyed, gaze flicking over him repeatedly, trying to find the monster in him with a disbelieving “what?” of betrayal. Which was just downright hurtful and awkward.

“What?” Jaskier replied. At least there wasn’t another sword being raised to his throat. Yet. Because that would have hurt more than anything.

It was the old witcher who spoke up. “Yes, well. Lambert, put the garlic down. We’ll be focusing on effective repellents for creatures over this winter for you I think.” The garlic ended up crushed in an angry fist and slammed down onto the table. “And Geralt, why did you bring a, ah, succubus home with you?”

When there wasn’t some intelligent reply Geralt could come up with, Jaskier decided to take matters into his own hand.

“I don’t think he realised? At first I thought he didn’t care but, judging by his reaction, he just had no clue.” Which hurt, just a little bit. It wasn’t like Jaskier made a secret of who he was. “To be fair, I was young when we met, barely coming into my powers.”

“I thought you were just young and horny,” Geralt finally said. Really, he wasn’t wrong and Jaskier hummed in agreement, head nodding along in a “so-so” manner. Because he was young and horny but also really bloody hungry. But, with the kinds of people Geralt encountered, it wasn’t so difficult to seduce and feed off the scum of the earth. While Geralt cleansed the world of monsters, Jaskier went after those Geralt couldn’t, the human monsters.

Sadly, his words weren’t endearing him to the witchers. If anything, they looked a little more murderous. Especially Lambert who was eyeing up the things on the table for what to lob at Jaskier.

All in all, it wasn’t the warm welcome Jaskier had been hoping for. It wasn’t even a cold annoyance of having a non-witcher amongst their midst. If anything, it was a rather hostile and frosty reception. Disappointing all round.

“And how did a succubus think he would spend a winter in an isolated keep?” The old witcher seemed to be the leader of the little group and Jaskier had to hope that if he could win him over, the others would fall in line too.

As for the question, he shrugged. “I’ve got reserves. There were some bandits along the way. Might age a little while I’m here but nothing drastic.” It was true, he had planned on simply fasting over winter. It might cost him a few wrinkles in appearance but that could be rectified when they left in the spring again.

The looks of disbelief were accompanied by a snort of entertainment. Why Jaskier thought a handful of witchers he’d never met before would believe him was questionable. But call it careless optimism, he had so hoped that they would accept him like Geralt.

“Well, Geralt thought this would be okay.”

“Geralt,” the witcher drawled, “who didn’t realise what you were. Who thought he had found a human bard to warm his bed. We’ll work on his monster identifications this winter. Starting from scratch it seems.”

Wrong thing to say and irritation rippled through Jaskier. It was one thing to be wary of him and behave so insultingly but another to besmirch Geralt’s good name.

“I don’t know why you’re so rude, Mr. Witcher,” he seethed. “But Geralt has done nothing wrong. Except been a friend for all these years.” A slight lie, they weren’t always friends but that was beside the point. Geralt was his friend now and that was that counted. “You will not degrade him or put him down like that.”

The witcher with scars across his face an a sharp sword in hand laughed. He actually had the audacity to chuckle. “Shit, Vesemir, you’ve lost your touch old man, if you let some young succubus smack you down like that.”

The witcher, Vesemir, snarled. He pushed past Geralt and had the tip of his carving knife under Jaskier’s chin, glaring down at him. As much as Geralt tried to protest, Lambert was holding him back. Now Jaskier was on his own, facing down a weathered witcher.

“Show me what you really are.”

The demand was rude and Jaskier refused with a snarl. He was happy exactly as his was in his form, always had been. In all honesty, he couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been in his human form. Well before Geralt, that was for sure. The press of sword and a growled “show me” didn’t really encourage him to change. So he steadfastly ignored it.

“I bow to no man,” he seethed, eyes burning with a very human rage. Jaskier and Vesemir stared at each other in a challenge before the carving knife dropped away.

“You may stay. But drain any of my boys and I will personally run you through with all the swords in the armoury.”

It was a fair deal and Jaskier nodded. With Vesemir won over, the others looked a little less wary. Eskel actually nodded at him with a grin and turned to start ribbing Geralt about travelling with a succubus without knowing it. That was rather priceless. Lambert was a little more difficult to win over, he growled and reached for sharp things as soon as Jaskier was nearby. But he never attacked and even shared a table with Jaskier when they all sat down to eat together. So it wasn’t all that bad.

As suspected, fasting over winter had its downside. Jaskier didn’t look or feel as vibrant as the weeks passed. He ended up looking a little sallow, shadows under his eyes and crows feet from where he had laughed and his skin crinkled with mirth.

Sometimes, Jaskier walked in on Geralt arguing. Usually with Vesemir but he also caught hissed conversation with Lambert. It was only Eskel who seemed cheery and supportive. Which was weird, especially when Jaskier heard Geralt exclaim “well, I’m going to do it. You all know about my intentions now and know it’s not his influence. So fuck you all.” A strange thing to say, even more weird was that as soon as Geralt had turned on his heels and spotted Jaskier, he bodily hauled him back to the bedroom.

The sex that followed was one through which Geralt all but begged Jaskier to take what he needed. To feed off him. And that desperation tasted better than anything Jaskier had in a long long time. Freely given was always more refreshing than quietly stolen (from those unawares of who they were bedding) or forcefully drained (as he did with bandits and the like).

When they returned down to the kitchen, Jaskier looked like his usual, youthful self, glowing and crows feet free. And Geralt looked happier too, rolling his eyes at the wink Eskel sent him. Some garlic still went sailing through the air and smacked Jaskier in the forehead but he laughed and threw it back at Lambert, appreciating the weird solidarity they were showing at this newest turn of events.

[yourfinalbow]

hi lol this is totally random but based on a harry potter post you just reblogged and you can completely ignore me if you want, but do you think snape deserved better, or are you a quote unquote "snape apologist"? I'm genuinely curious cuz I've come across a lot of different opinions on severus. Again, feel free to ignore :)

This ended up way longer than it needed to be, and I apologize for that lmao.

Hi! Hmmm I have many mixed opinions on this. First we have to talk about which Snape. Book!Snape is actually kind of an asshole, and not in the fun way. (Way more than I remembered.) But but but Alan Rickman!Snape I like a lot.

And no I'm not mentioning Snape from TCC. That was not Snape and that world was not Harry Potter.

Snape is an interesting character because of how flawed and layered he is.

(Putting a cut because it's so long, and tw for non-detailed mentions/reference to abuse, as well as both trauma and death.)

He wasn't born in a very good household, which I can definitely see as being a reason for why he is who he is. (A reason, not an excuse. Those are two extremely different things.) You look at Sirius, who also came from a horrible household, yet he managed to dig himself out of the mud and make his own path for himself. (Though I have many angsty headcanons for the thoughts he has and being afraid of what he will do and in turn his own mind. WolfStar solidarity. Neither one of them know what they are truly capable of, and both are completely afraid to find out.

Ahem sorry I got a little distracted there.

During the Marauder's era, Snape wasn't a good person in general, but he tried to be nice to Lily. (One of the only exceptions he made.) That being said, (sorry, going on a tangent again), it does not excuse what the Marauders did. As much as they are, in my humble opinion, JK's greatest creation, they should be held accountable for both the prank, and dangling Snape upside down. (Though Remus does make a few good points in their defense later, it's still not an excuse.) Two wrongs never make a right.

Snape doesn't deny Lily's claims at him wanting to join a supremacy group, nor does he say he isn't friends with Death Eaters.

It's clear through the flashbacks we're given that Snape is apathetic in the face of innocent people dying, but once again Lily is the exception.

Dumbledore defends Snape by saying it wasn't his fault that Harry's parents are dead. I actually semi-agree with this. On one hand, he was directly at fault, but on the other hand he had no way of knowing. As a severe Loki apologist, I do not blame Loki for Frigga's death. He may have led the dark elves to her, but he didn't know it was her she was sending them to. That's the comparison I make in my mind, and so I don't completely blame him like other people do. (One could also make the argument that Sirius is to blame. Sirius, who is 100% my favorite character in the entire franchise, gave the secret keeper job to Peter, thinking it would be safer with him. However, he had no ill will or malicious intentions towards Lily, James, and Harry, so I don't blame him.)

All that being said, Snape not only would have been fine with random people dying, he also didn't care whether or not James and Harry lived.

For context:

(Dumbledore is speaking, right after Snape comes to him for help.)

"You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child?" They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore.

He has a strange relationship with Lily. He obviously loves her, but not enough to want to stop Voldemort from killing the two things that bring her the most amount of happiness. It's clear he doesn't care about anyone except for Lily. Which on some level, I can understand why. When people have traumatic childhoods, they tend to hold on to a person that was there for them. Sometimes it can be the hands of the person who caused them pain in the first place, but other times it is another person who was there for him. He holds Lily's opinions of himself higher than anybody else, and he holds Lily above anybody else, and I think this can be attributed to some sort of trauma response, which is why his love for her is so unusual. That doesn't mean I think he should be fine with killing innocent people.

On the topic of trauma, I think joining the Death Eaters was another response to this, as well as a result of what kind of family he had.

Similar to both Harry and Voldemort, Snape much preferred Hogwarts to where he lived, and such the castle became his home more than his house ever was.

The Death Eaters could offer him something he had never been offered before. He belonged to something. In his own, twisted, traumatic mindset, he might have even almost seen the Death Eaters as a family. Not consciously of course, but there was definitely a feeling of belonging they gave him.

And there's something to be said about the fact that many serial killers in real life come from an abusive family. I don't pretend to understand the minds of someone who can do something so vile, but I have watched enough Criminal Minds episodes to know what they long for is control.

So being apart of this supremacy group, even though he was a half-blood himself and undoubtedly didn't entirely share Voldermort's racist beliefs, gave him both control and something he belonged to.

It's not an excuse, but it's a reason.

Alternatively, you can look at it through a quote from the most recent episode of Loki.

"It's part of the illusion. It's a cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

So it's also possible that when he was a kid, he thought being a villain was the only way to prevent others from being one to him.

Ok sorry, back on the chronological track.

So he agrees to change sides and work with Dumbledore. (Who must see just how distraught Snape was over Lily's death, to trust him immediately.)

Snape spends most of Harry's time at Hogwarts humiliating his own students. He particularly calls out Harry and his friends a lot, but I can definitely see this being a defence mechanism. He assumes Harry is James and reverts back to what we talked about earlier. (Becoming the villain so nobody else has a chance.)

But but but, he does a lot of good throughout the books. Snape mutters the countercurse, saving Harry from Quirrell during the Quidditch match. He then actually referees at the next match, preventing anything from happening altogether.

In retrospective, we see that he spends most of the first book helping Dumbledore by protecting the stone, and helping Lily by protecting Harry.

Now I could go through and list the goods and the bads of Snape throughout the entire series, but I have neither the time nor the patience, and I think you get the point.

(Except I would like the mention that Snape becomes a double agent for Dumbledore in book four, and risks his life every single day by constantly betraying Voldermort, and never once does he use this as a way to double cross Dumbledore. This was actually probably really hard on him. You can assume that having to pretend to be a Death Eater means he had to do some despicable things just so he didn't blow his cover. If he really has changed by this time, which I would like to think he has, is a lot of added guilt to live with.)

(I would also mention that he tried to save Sirius in book five, but... *falls on floor dramatically* I don't want to think about it.)

Severus Snape's time comes to the end in book seven. At the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, his death is a valiant act of sacrifice. Protecting the living and defending the honour of the fallen.

So, he has done a lot of bad in his lifetime, but by the time we as readers get to know him, his fundamental set of beliefs have begun to change. Through the eyes of what started as an eleven year old boy, you can definitely see that even after this he wasn't necessarily a good person.

And that's because his good is behind the scenes. He's good on a larger scale. He's chosen the light over darkness, but in his everyday life he's still the scared, traumatized little kid he's always been.

And him being this way has reasons, but these reasons are not excuses.

Sorry anon, this kind of turned into a long winded review of the entire character. I know that's not really what you asked, so I'll sum it up in a final few sentences sentence.

Yes. I wish Snape had gotten to live. Not because I'm necessarily a "Snape apologist", but because I find his character interesting, and seeing his reaction to his sacrifice could have been a really good read. Also Harry coming up and thanking him would have been really touching, and as a cherry on top maybe we could have gotten to read Harry apologizing for his father. Maybe even Snape sharing memories of Lily?! (Sorry that might have gotten a little to fanfic-y.)

That being said, his death being a final sacrifice towards the good of everyone, and a final testimony to his change of heart, was -- and I'll give JK credit just this once -- good storytelling, and a good way to end it.

Also I like movie!Snape because fuck yeah he's just so awesome.

If anyone has anything to add/take away, or they just want to discuss the wonder that was Alan Rickman, let me know! (Ask/Comment/Reblog/Etc.)

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU part 6!

First • Previous • Here • Next

Marinette woke up to the shrill ringing of her hotel room phone. She picked it up and accepted the polite wake up call, then struggled blearily out of bed.

Today was their trip to the botanical gardens, and a free afternoon at one of the larger malls. She’d already had plans to go eat with Chloé and Adrien, but something in her stomach told her it wasn’t going to happen.

Her akuma alarm had gone off as they talked last night, and they’d had to sit and watch on the app as Sabine fought off her first akuma as Ladybug. Marinette had not slept well afterwards, the lingering fear overwhelming.

She did not like feeling as though she were sitting on the sidelines in her own battle.

She’d called her mother a few minutes after the Ladybug tracker had gone dormant, going over the fight with her, and let her know she’d be back that evening to retrieve Tikki.

And now she had to get dressed.

Chloé had set out something she’d directed her to wear, but Marinette disregarded it. Too flashy, more her friend’s style than hers. Instead she picked up one of her dresses, a simple white dress with loose sheer short sleeves, a bateau neckline, a slim but stark black belt around the waist, and a circle skirt that fell just past her knees, the bottom third entirely covered by swirling floral embroidery.

Paired with plain black flats for comfortable walking and shorts underneath for any possible fighting, it was a perfectly simple but classy look for touring gardens and shopping.

Chloé pounded around the door. “We have to go or they’ll leave you again!”

Marinette yelped and grabbed her purse, extra snacks for the kwamis, and ran to the door. She yanked it open. “I thought we leave at nine!”

“We do,” Chloé said, examining her nails. “But this is the fastest way to ensure you’re actually ready on time. Grab your sketchbook, let’s go get breakfast.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and slipped back into the bathroom. “Let me put on my makeup first, as you ordered yesterday, your majesty.”

“Fine,” Chloé drawled. “Nice dress by the way.”

“You put it at the top of my suitcase so I’d find it immediately after refusing to wear that top, don’t lie.”

Marinette carefully applied mascara and lip gloss, but nothing else. Chloé would have to fight her if she wanted anything else extra, possible soulmate meeting or not.

“I know you, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé sneered from where she settled on the bed. She was soundly ignored in favor of Marinette actually gathering up her sketchbook and pencils.

“Alright, breakfast?”

Chloé stood back up with a huff. “Took you long enough.”

“It’s barely been two minutes,” Marinette slipped her key card into her purse and closed the door. “Do you think they’ll have those sad croissants again? I might have to step back into their kitchen myself.”

They did in fact have the sad croissants, which barely deserved the name of Marinette was being honest. But they ate and made it onto the bus before anyone else, and as everyone trickled on, Marinette kept a good headcount.

“Where’s Lila?” She realized when Alya stepped on last, her new best friend nowhere to be seen.

Alya threw her a heavy glare. “Like you need to ask.”

Ah. Marinette drooped a bit. “I’ll go check her room, make sure she knows we’re leaving.”

Mme. Bustier nodded absentmindedly, looking at her clipboard. Alya and a good portion of the class kept up their angry glances at her. Chloé gave her a look.

“This is another ploy and you know it.”

“It’s my responsibility,” Marinette sighed under her breath. And then she got off the bus, checked the dining room and the lobby restrooms, before heading up the stairs to where they were staying on the eighth floor.

Predictably, Lila was not in her room. And equally predictably, the bus was not waiting for her when she returned. She sighed and brought out her phone for directions to the gardens. A text from Chloé confirmed exactly what had happened.

Eight blocks wasn’t bad.

She started out, memorizing the route and the street names so she wouldn’t have her head in her phone while walking through the most crime-ridden city in America.

Gotham wasn’t as beautiful as Paris, she thought, with its airy light and open airspace. But it had its own dark sort of charm, with the way the buildings seemed to swallow the sky and cocoon you. Even in daytime, the darker colors made every spot a shadow, and the gothic architecture didn’t do anything to dissuade you. The whole city was a warning sign to the dangers it held. But Marinette could also see the way people gathered in shop windows, walked holding tightly to each other. Like the akumas in Paris, the climate bred its own sort of solidarity in the people who lived here.

She made a right, and then a left, and kept walking, eyes on every alley despite being in the nicer part of town.

When she finally made it to the gardens, the bus wasn’t there. Checking her phone again revealed that Lila, not done being a bitch for the day, had convinced Mme. Bustier to switch their time slots for the garden and shopping. And the shopping center was in the other direction from the hotel.

Almost twenty blocks away.

She sat down on a bench outside, debating with herself. Try to walk there? Get a taxi? Wait?

“You look a bit lost.”

She raised her head and pulled in a shocked breath.

He was right in front of her.

“Actually,” Marinette said calmly while the inside of her brain set fire to itself, “I don’t think I’m lost at all. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

She held out a challenging hand.

Between the vivid but short memory of running past him and the bad photos online, she’d not quite remembered what he looked like. The dark hair, tanned skin, green eyes- but now she could stare, could take in the angled brows, the slope of his nose, the way his lips were pressed tightly together.

“Damian Wayne,” he said finally, reaching out and taking her hand. The electric current burst to life under his fingers, as instead of a handshake he bent and kissed her hand, like how Adrian used to flirt with her as Chat Noir.

The back of her knuckles where his lips brushed buzzed.

Ah. So it was to be an actual challenge, then.

She stood up as he released her hand, smoothing out the dress before very delicately taking his arm, and she couldn’t help but be pleased at the way his lips twitched against his blank expression. He automatically compensated, extending his arm appropriately for her to take a position at his side. “I don’t want to assume, but I had intended to tour the gardens. Would you join me?”

He secured her hand firmly within the crook of his arm, gentleman-like, and started leading her in. “It would be my pleasure, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

The point of connection was electric, but it slowly died to a low, warm hum between them, bursting momentarily whenever their shoulders brushed or she rearranged her grip as they started to walk.

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