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clumsiestgiantess · 1 year ago

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Day 14: Linger

Some fucked up shit (whump) I wrote several years ago, re-written for your viewing pleasure.

(For those of you who don’t like torture scenarios, you can skip this one; idk what younger me was on when I wrote this)

Hailey

My parents are fighting again. At least, I like to think of them that way — parents instead of total strangers. It's been harder and harder to see them shouting like this. I can hear their screaming all the way from my room on the top floor. It's been hard on my brother too, I think. He hides it better than I do. I just want things to be normal again.

Sighing, I slunk downstairs and slipped outside before anyone noticed me. Taking a deep long breath, I gently closed the door, peering into the dark. Walking out to the edge of our yard- sorry, table, I sat down on its edge. Four years of living on a surface raised several whole feet in the air and thinner than you is definitely not for everyone; I'm ok with it though. I don't fall off too often anymore.

My family and I; we’re all dolls. Yes, literally. I’ve been like this as long as I can remember, passed from hand to hand, attic to garage sale. The girls in this house — they used to play with us all the time. It was amazing! The world of plastic would fall away into something real and true. Life was only worth living for those moments. But the older human grew up, and the younger one was bought a brand new dollhouse, unlike this ancient one. Soon after our abandonment, my parents — the older dolls — started arguing nonstop.

Sometimes I'll imagine what life would be like if I lived on my own, but then I wouldn't have a life. Literally. My whole reason for existing is to be played with. I wouldn't be miserably listening to a never ending argument, but I'd be miserably sitting in the dark, alone, by myself with nothing to live for. So that's not really an option. The pent-up stress and depression that comes with being rejected took its toll on everyone in different ways. I come out here to sit at the edge of our table and wait for one of the humans to come down. Maybe, just maybe, they’d remember us. Even if they don’t want us around, surely they’d pass us along to another human that does.

Just then, the basement lights snapped on. Yelping in surprise, I slipped off the ledge and braced myself for the hard ground below. As a doll, I can go from flesh to plastic pretty much instantly, so I can't get hurt from this kind of thing. Every once and a while I forget that as plastic, I’m immune to the fall. Even without pain, the drop is still plenty terrifying. I'm not supposed to be seen by humans — not without being plastic — so I scrambled away from the open floor and hid behind one of the table legs. Apparently, humans don’t like it when we’re flesh like them.

When I was younger, I vaguely remember all of us trying to live life alive, like humans do. When an actual human found us, they got so scared they passed out. My oldest sister tried once more to interact with them, but she didn’t come back. I tried to ask what my parents meant by that, but they didn’t give an answer other than she was never coming home. Now I know that they’d tried to ‘exorcise’ her — a gruesome process humans inflict on dolls like us to stop us from living. I didn’t even know we could die until then. None of us show our living selves anymore. As long as we’re complacent, nothing bad happens.

The girl who’d come downstairs so suddenly was the older one. She ran right past me to the door with her dog in tow, so I took the opportunity to get climbing. She never comes down to play with us anymore, so I know I have some time before anyone notices me where I didn’t belong.

My first few attempts to scale the table failed pretty miserably. I kept sliding back down the slippery wooden columns which served as table legs. Finally, I'd managed to climb halfway up the vertical surface when the door to the yard opened, letting in a hyperactive puppy with the girl right behind it. After running a few laps around the basement, the fluffy bullet settled down on the couch while the human pulled out her phone and sat down beside it.

Inch by inch, I slowly began hauling myself up the table again, refusing to go back down. It had taken me so long to get where I was. In hindsight, that wasn't one of my best ideas. The dog spotted me moving less than a few seconds later, and began barking as loud as it could at the table leg I was currently climbing. Instantly, I was back on the floor again. "Hey!" the human yelled annoyedly, marching over to her dog. "What in the world are you barking at?! Is your ball under there?" Before I could even think about running, she'd stuck her head under the table and spotted me. I was way too quick for her to catch me alive, though.

By the time the human got down on her hands and knees, I was already back to being plastic. "Were you barking at this?" she asked the dog as she held me out for it to sniff. Now that I was plastic, the animal seemed to lose all interest in me and went back to lay down on the couch. The girl shook her head and walked back with him, but she'd taken me with her, placing me down on the bookshelf beside the couch. "You are such a strange dog, Cooper," she said, patting the husky puppy as she sat down again.

Ok, I've been sitting here for an HOUR now and the girl, Ellie, if I remember correctly, still hasn't left. She got up a few minutes ago to get her headphones though, and she hasn’t looked up from her phone once. As quietly as I could, I began to slide away from my spot on the bookshelf. Mind you, I'm still five inches tall, so one wrong move and I'm easily seen. I was at the edge of the shelf now, so I hardened my skin to plastic and inched off the ledge, letting myself drop to the ground. I'd begun traversing the floor, sure I could make the short jog to the play table, which had doubled as a dumping ground over the years.

Just a quick jog, only a few seconds between me and the safety of the table. "Holy shit!" I froze, mortified. In my prehipreal vision, Ellie stood up, staring down at me from somewhere too far up for me to see. Before I could even think of running or going plastic, Ellie rushed to a bin nearby, grabbed a fake treasure chest, and closed it around me. The plastic lock clicked shut, and she thundered up the basement stairs yelling urgently. "Mom! Look what I found!" Panic seized my chest, constricting the air out of my lungs. Say something, anything! "NO! Please! Please, you can't tell them!" I yelled, banging on the side of the box. I've just destroyed my life.

Ellie

Running as fast as I could, I slowed as I heard my mom reply. "What is it honey?" Thinking back to the tiny doll, I asked myself: was telling her the best idea? Every time adults found out about something like this in any movie, book, or even real life, they usually messed it up one way or another. Rather than telling her the truth, I said I'd forgotten. "That's alright," she replied, "Tell me if you remember what it was." I ran about halfway down the stairs before she stopped me. "Now that you're upstairs, why don't you help set the table for dinner?" I wasn’t upstairs anymore, but I knew I couldn’t argue. Before I could try to make up a good enough excuse, she had me fishing out spoons and forks from a drawer in the kitchen. I'd left the locked chest on the couch downstairs.

After a seemingly endless dinner, I was called away from the basement again to put away the laundry. Groaning, I trudged down the hall to my room. It wasn't that I was afraid the doll might escape the box; I was more afraid of my sister finding her. Claire, my younger sister, loves catching cool bugs and other various small creatures. I know she’ll absolutely adore the tiny doll from the basement. The problem was, she almost always forgets about the things she takes 'care' of, and leaves them in their containers without… anything. Now that I think about it, I don't think she's ever taken care of something that's lived for more than a month.

Once I was finally done with the laundry, I raced back downstairs. Hesitantly, I crept back to the couch and let out a sigh of relief; the chest was still there. No one had come down before me. As carefully as I could, I flipped open the lid, peering in. The small doll inside jumped in surprise and backed into a corner. "Wow," I breathed, "You... you're alive." Glaring at me, she grumbled under her breath. "You aren’t supposed to know that." I startled. For some reason, I’d been unsure whether she could talk. "What.. Why?" I asked, both confused and alarmed at once.

"Well, it’s.. for safety," she replied, “Humans don’t react well to seeing us alive. I.. don't know exactly what will become of us if we’re found out, but everyone says bad things'll happen if we are." Huffing, she sat back down on the bottom of the chest. After a second or two, she glanced up at me. “So, get it over with already.” My brows furrowed in confusion, wondering what she was insinuating by her last statement. "But I didn't tell anyone,” I said, glancing back at the stairway, “No one knows except me." The doll froze and looked up at me incredulously, "You're a liar. I can hear through this box, and I heard you yelling to your mother.”

"Did you hear me tell her about you?" I quipped. I could see she was about to say something snide in return but stopped, "... no. That doesn't mean anything, though. You still could've told them while I was sitting down here." Leaning back, I tried to think of a way to convince her I wasn't lying. "If I told someone, don't you think I would've brought them down here to convince them?" That silenced her for a while. "So, you didn't tell anyone?" she finally asked, shock spilling into her voice. I shook my head. Getting back up from the floor of the box, she grumbled as she started climbing over the side of the chest. "Even if you told no one, you still know. To me, that's one human too ma- AAH!" As she tried to climb up, her elbow knocked into the lid and it came crashing back down. Trapping her inside it again. "Are you alright?" I asked, lifting it gently back up.

"Just get me out of this thing," the doll sighed. “If you’re not going to trap me, I’m leaving. Like I was saying, you shouldn't know about me." As I listened to her talk on and on about how dangerous it was for her, I tilted the box so she could hop out. "If you know, someone else is bound to find out about me eventually.” I watched her with silent awe. She isn’t even plastic, though I know for a fact that she was when I used to play with her.

When I used to play with her. What a strange thing to do to someone very clearly alive. She’s.. a doll, that’s the point of her, but a living doll…. As the thought sunk in, I realized how most people would be frightened at that phrase. Flashes of horror movies danced in my head and I began having second thoughts about trapping her. Maybe it is better if I let the doll have what she wants. I cleared my throat, causing the little thing to jump at the sound. She’d scaled down the side of the couch where I’d placed the chest, and watched me warily from the floor. The distance between us didn’t feel like much, yet she looked so much smaller.

“Are all of you alive?” I asked, trying to stop the tendrils of fear in the back of my mind from slipping into my voice. The doll turned away from me purposefully, “I can’t tell you that.” Yes. Yes they are. “Is everything alive?” A sneer drifted onto her face. “Of course not! That would be impossible to hide! I don’t think anything is alive besides us.” The doll cringed a moment later, realizing her slip-up. Slowly, she turned back around to glance at me, trying to catch whether I’d recognized her mistake. "Alright, I guess I'll be upstairs then," I quickly headed towards the staircase as horror movies again plagued my thoughts. "Ok, just… please don't tell anyone," the doll stressed. When I turned to leave I replied, "I don't think anyone will believe me anyway,” before quickly dashing up the stairs to safety.

I've been staring at the ceiling of my room for the past half hour now, trying to make sense of what I just discovered. Was it better to leave the doll alone, or would it be better to trap her again? If my sister found her and mistreated her like everything else she owns, she might invoke whatever paranormal wrath the dolls might have. I debated it over and over in my head all through the night and into the next day. I'd just finished breakfast when a crashing sound echoed through the house. What was that?" I called in exasperation, expecting Cooper to have accidentally knocked something else over again. "It sounds like it came from downstairs," I heard my sister reply. The basement? Oh no. The doll.

I raced out of the kitchen and scrambled for the basement door. "I'll get it! No one move; I'll check it out!" Not waiting for a reply, I raced down the stairs and froze at the bottom. One of the other playhouses, a windmill with two small floors, had fallen off the table and smashed on the floor below. At least it wasn’t some possessed doll ritual.

"Everything's fine!" I called to my family, "Something just fell off a shelf, that's all!" I stepped forward to assess the damage when I noticed a string attached to a broken piece of the windmill. Pulling it off of the balcony, I realized there was a kind of grapple at the end. Strange. I followed the string with my finger, tugging it along through the cracked plastic pieces to find what the other end was attached to. Splinters of cracked plastic parted, revealing the doll from last night. I found her beneath the rubble, unconscious.

Hailey

My life is literally over. I thought I might be able to salvage it, but as I walked into the dollhouse it became painfully apparent that I was done for. Everyone knew what had happened. Of course they did; the dining room had a clear view of the couch. I'd been warned explicitly by everyone in this place that if anyone screwed up, they'd pay for it. One mistake would affect everyone, not just the doll who was to blame. My so-called 'parents' locked me in my room, blocking the way out with a heavy shelf. The only reason I'm not still stuck in there is my crafty escape plan I'd devised on day one of the fierce arguments. Thankfully, I made it out with my climbing grapple and my freedom.

I planned to live on my own. It’s really the only option now. I won’t really miss the old house or the dolls there, but I wasn't expecting them to actually stay true to their word. I kind of assumed that the threats to imprison me were fictions purely to scare me away from the idea of escape. All night, I trekked across the massive basement floor, not daring to stop for anything until I reached the place I was headed. I was going to live in the two story windmill on the shelf by the stairs. It was less used than the dollhouse, and basically inaccessible to any of the others without a grapple like mine.

It was already early morning by the time I reached the stairs. The distance between the dollhouse and the other end of the room didn’t look nearly as far from my window. However, my legs ached from the journey. When I finally got to the shelf, I used my grapple to scale each section. It was easier going scaling each individual section rather than trying to climb the whole thing, even if it took a longer time. Almost at the top, I threw up the hook and latched the end of it to a balcony at the top of the windmill. Just as I'd begun hoisting myself along, I heard a faint creak. My line slid and I froze, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Fearfully, I looked up. I was just in time to witness the top of the windmill snap off the building. Screaming, I desperately grasped at my line, but it was no use. The whole thing had fallen with me. I managed to become plastic before I hit the floor, but I barely had time to blink before the entire building fell on top of me.

Mommy and Daddy are fighting. I don't like it, so I turn instead to my pretty little world of make-believe. My dollies have such a nice life; if only my life were like theirs. A big house, big adventures, and best of all, a big loving family. I notice the sky getting dark. Placing the dolls in their beds, I rush to the window. A single star shines in the early night sky. "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight," I recite at my window ledge, "I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight." I suck in a deep breath, and with it I utter: "I want to live like a dollie, my whole family and me."

I woke up with a start, flinching upright in a panic. What was that? No, I… Shit. I know what that was. That was me. The real me. Before I was like this. How could I have forgotten? "I'm.. not a doll," I whispered to myself, "I never was."

"What?" I flinched at the new voice. It was the girl, Ellie. She was bending over me, concerned and way too close for comfort. I quickly scrambled backward to get away, only to nearly fall over into the sink behind me. That's when I realized Ellie had taken me to the bathroom. She'd woken me up by splashing water on my face. "Could you, you know, move back a little?" I asked, feeling very crowded by her looming presence above me. "Oh, sure, of course," Ellie easily put a bit more space between us. "I just didn't catch what you said before."

The realization came rushing back, hitting me full force like a kickball to the gut. So that was the reason I didn’t remember how I ended up in someone’s living room. That’s why we tried acting human before we recognized how dangerous it was. But it’s impossible.. how did we end up as playthings?

"I- I'm a person," I said with a shudder. "I remember now. It came to me in a memory when I got knocked out.” My solemn voice bounced loudly off the walls of the small bathroom. This.. girl, she can’t be more than 16. I’m.. I think I’m 20? I was way younger than her when I made that wish — more like her sister’s age. How had I grown up? How had I grown up like this? The human- the girl- the teenage girl technically younger than me- loomed over me like a giant. Because she’s a human, my mind replied smoothly. But.. so am I.

“It's.. I.. I think I cursed myself to be this way,” I stuttered, avoiding eye contact, “Both me and my family." Ellie withdrew further back, eyes growing wide. "I knew it," she whispered in fear, "This is how horror movies start; a cursed doll and their unsuspecting first victim." Ellie stumbled out of the bathroom, looking at me in newfound horror. "No, I-!" I tried to explain, but she cut me off. "I should've told everyone about you! Maybe if they knew, they would lock you away somewhere, and you wouldn't be here now — about to kill me." I blanched, watching her backpedal towards the stairs. "Wait, no, I don't want to hurt you! What are you talking about? Where are you going!?" I yelled, panicking as she reached the bottom step. Ellie dashed upstairs before she heard anything else I said.

This is bad, really bad. I have to stop her. Now. Hardening to plasticity, I jumped from the bathroom counter and took off at a run. Being stupid little doll size, I couldn't get very far. She was long gone by the time I made it to the stairs. I cried out in anguish. Each stair was a few inches — or maybe a centimeter — taller than me. Having no other way to get to Ellie, I started climbing. The family upstairs was nowhere to be found by the time I reached the ground floor, which took ages. Ellie wasn't there. Thankfully, I know where her room is, though. I've been on this floor once or twice when Ellie decided to bring us up here to play. It was often during some sort of vacation scenario where the story required a dramatic change in scenery.

I shuddered at the memories, taking a moment to rest in the doorway. I’d been played with, and I’d liked it. Now, I feel like vomiting just thinking about someone so big picking me up and forcing me around.

I ran over to the girls' hallway. Luckily, it was a straight shot to Ellie's room. Unluckily, I had to pass Claire's room to get there. I crawled down the hallway, keeping to the side of a wall to avoid attention. For a while, I really thought I would make it through without being caught, but as it turns out, Claire was not in her room. "Oh, wow!" gasped a voice from above. I didn't even have time to process that I'd been spotted before I was snatched up. My vision spun from being yanked to such a dizzying height so suddenly. I desperately tried to free myself from her grasp, but my protests were only met with a tightened grip. The world whirled by at a sickening speed.

Suddenly, I was thrust into a dollhouse. This one was nothing like the one in the basement. Everything was uncomfortably plastic, and it was completely open on one side. Most annoyingly, it was also scaled to the wrong size. Even in this dollhouse I still seemed to be a few feet smaller than normal.

Claire gazed in at me, again getting way too close for comfort. I desperately searched for a way out, but there aren’t even any stairs leading off this floor. "ARE YOU REAL?!" Claire squealed in excitement. I yelped, quickly shoving my hands over my ears. "OH MY GOSH YOU ARE ADORABLE!" She reached for me and I screamed, despite myself. "Please!" I cried, "Please stop yelling. I'm going to go deaf!" Claire whined and snached me out of the dollhouse. She held me close to her face and started petting me. "Aww, I'm so sorry little thing. You're just so cute! Look at how small you are! So tiny!" I could practically feel my dignity slipping away. "No! Stop it! I'm not a doll, I'm a person! Put me down!" I shoved at her fingers, but they didn't budge.

Claire giggled, sending chills down my spine. "I know you're a person, silly! Dolls don't talk!" She only laughed at my feeble attempts to free myself. "You're my very own tiny person. Even better than a doll! We're going to have so much fun together!" My stomach dropped. She knew? She knew I was a person, but she didn't care? Claire placed me back into the dollhouse and shut it. I was too stunned to move. Only when I heard the click of a latch lock did I snap out of my stupor.

"Wait!" I cried, rushing to the window, "Let me out of here! You can't lock me in here!" Claire only giggled and poked her fingers in through the window next to mine. I retreated backwards in alarm, tripping over myself and falling hard on the pink plastic floor. "Yes I can," she said cheerfully, "You're mine now! I can do whatever I want with you!" How can something so sinister be spoken so happily? I threw myself against the window. It was criss-crossed into tiny square sections for decoration, effectively trapping me behind a cruel set of plastic prison bars.

The lights in Claire’s room flicked off, and soon she was asleep. Devastated, I searched the floor one last time for a staircase down, or a non-barred window, but no such luck. There was a bed made entirely of plastic — the covers only a wavy texture on the bed frame. Peering out the side window, I could see the latch that kept the dollhouse shut. I stretched as far as I could, almost getting my shoulder stuck in the window frame, but I was just short of the latch. Retreating to a far corner of the room, I curled up and cried softly. Why, why did I have to figure out that I’m a person now? Doll me would’ve loved being this little girl’s plaything.

Ellie

I was right! I knew it! And now I'm going to be murdered for it. I raced into my room and locked the door, determined to stay safely behind it the rest of the day. I only came out for a few brief moments to grab meals before disappearing into my room again. As I panicked about what to do and how to survive, I searched up ways to get rid of the cursed doll. Of course, the internet offered very little help. Most of the articles I found were clearly fake, and the others were all based on horror movies, which are also fake. Either way, most of the suggestions were awfully dramatic. Many of the passages told me to burn her alive, which seems a bit excessive.

Eventually, due to my recent search history and my phone somehow knowing my location, an article appeared in the 'things you might be interested in' tab. At first I ignored it; the text was a ranked list of the most haunted things in the state. However, before I clicked away, a picture caught my eye and my heart stopped. It was a photo of the dollhouse in the basement; discolored and filtered to make it seem more sinister, but definitely the dollhouse. I sucked in a shocked breath of air. There was a paragraph posted below the picture.

#4. The Wilson House

Unlike most of the haunted houses on this list, you can't visit or tour this home… unless you're five inches tall. Late one June night the owners of the house, Mike and Veronica Wilson as well as their children, Victor and Hailey Wilson, were all at home when the seemingly impossible occurred. Their house and car, along with the things and people inside of them, vanished into the night. This awfully strange disappearance left police baffled after picking up on what they thought was a prank phone call about a "missing house". Even stranger still, all that was left of their whereabouts was a dollhouse, confirmed to be a replica of the Wilson home. Today, the replica is lost to time. This leaves horror seekers and mystery solvers with the same question: Was it a kidnaping, alien abduction, or was there something darker at work here?

I stared open-mouthed at my phone, reading and re-reading the paragraph and the entire article to see if there was any more information. The halls were dark by the time I stopped scouring the internet for the Wilson house. According to the few sources, the family had been on the brink of collapse when the house disappeared with both parents, the 17 year old Victor, and the 6 year old Hailey.

Slowly I slunk under my covers, uncertain. The doll said she'd been human once; she'd cursed herself and her family. Between the first article and what she'd said, I’m fairly sure I just stumbled across the truth about who the doll is. The worst part? I really doubt she would have hurt me. There were only a few things I could find about the disappearance, but what I couldn't find was how it had come to be in the tag sale we'd bought it from years ago. My best guess was that someone scraped it off the side of the road, then lost interest in it. Most of the articles were dated a few years after I was born, so it was entirely possible people had forgotten its origins and left it up for sale.

I was up late that night, thinking. Hailey was likely the doll I'd met, though she'd clearly grown somehow since she'd been cursed. She looked older than me, and she was already six the night the house went missing. I wish I could go back downstairs and talk to her, but I don't want to risk waking up my family. She’d been pretty adamant on ensuring the secret of her existence. Now I understand why. Hailey’s probably worried I told everyone, and she's lucky I didn't. All this time that me and my sister have been playing with that dollhouse… they were alive. Not just alive, but actual people too. Though, apparently Hailey had only just realized it today. I have so many questions, and a major apology for jumping to conclusions about her, but they would have to wait until tomorrow.

That morning, as soon as I woke up, I headed to the basement. I searched everywhere for Hailey — the dollhouse, the toy bins, the shelf, even the remains of the windmill, but I found nothing. She’d seemingly vanished. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't find her anywhere. I spent the entire morning scouring the basement, but to no avail. Finally, I gave up the search to eat something. I assumed that Hailey had run away, so I checked the backyard next. I was halfway through my search — and planning to go through the front yard next — when my mom called me away to help her put together a new table for the deck. If Hailey was still here somewhere, I’d find her eventually.

Hailey

I was woken way too early this morning. So early in fact, that I forgot where I was for a moment. That was until the wall next to me was pulled away, and Claire's awful grin fell into view. "Good morning little thing!" she said in a sappy voice, "I'm going to get breakfast and then we can play, ok?" I groaned, but she'd already disappeared out the door. However, Claire left the dollhouse wide open. I quickly seized the chance to escape. Switching to plastic, I jumped down to the floor and raced to the doorway. I barely made it halfway across Claire's room before I collapsed. I cursed my night of little sleep and my horribly tiny figure. If only I weren't so small! I could easily escape this place if I were still human. But that was entirely my fault, wasn't it?

By the time Claire had returned, I'd managed to hide amongst a clutter of stuffed animals by the door. I was far too exhausted to go any further. Once Claire realized I was gone, she rummaged through the entire dollhouse; haphazardly shoving things out as she searched. When she'd emptied the entire thing and still hadn’t found me, Claire quickly became hysterical. Enraged, she began to tear her room apart in search of me, her voice harsh on my ears. "New doll, where are you!?" It was terrifying to watch from my perspective on the floor. Even though Claire can't be more than six or seven years old, she still towered above me. As she searched the opposite side of the room, I ran out the door as quickly as I could.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" I flinched so badly I tripped, hitting the hardwood floor face first. Like yesterday, I was torn away from the ground at a sickening speed. "WHY DID YOU RUN AWAY LIKE THAT?" Claire cried ridiculously loudly, "DON'T DO THAT AGAIN." "Or what!?" I spat, "You already lock me up, anyway."

I shouldn't have tested her. I don't know why I did. All I remember after that was violent force whisking me through the air, then I woke up on the floor of Claire's room. My head throbbed and I could feel major bruises blooming on my arm and back where I was laying. She threw me. Claire reached for me again, and I panicked. I don't think I'll survive that a second time. "Wait!" I hated how desperate I sounded, and I hated how it felt, but I had no choice. "I fell out and got lost, I'm sorry!" I lied. "It won't happen again, I swear. Please don't-" I swallowed a sob, "Don't do that again, please."

Claire smiled an awful, satisfied smile and backed off. A few seconds later she returned with a handful of dolls. "That's ok to get lost,” she assured me sweetly, “I get lost sometimes, too. Don’t worry, it's only your first day." I grimaced. Only my first day. I tried my best to do what she asked after that incident. Claire made it horribly clear that she would happily hurt me, or even end my life, if she felt like it. Days blurred together, mixed with the same bullshit acting she forced me to do — all similar family drama scenarios she played out with her dolls and me. It wasn't quite torture; it was bareable, at least for the time being.

Claire made sure to watch me at all times after my first day. I know I told her I hadn't meant to run off, and she said she believed me, but despite that, she always kept one eye on me at all times. However, as long as I deal with the stupid little things she asks me to do, I won't get hurt. I just have to keep playing along until she lets her guard down and I can escape.

Unfortunately, she never let her guard down again. It was far too easy for her to lock me up inside the dollhouse day after day. I never got another chance to run. For what felt like months, I slaved away trapped in Claire's room. Since I could move on my own, she forced me to act out little scenes for her. I became an actor, a puppet on a string for her to do with as she pleased. Charlie was my new name. Though I continuously try to tell her I already have a name, she stuck with Charlie. I knew better than to refuse her.

It was agonizing mental torture day in and day out. All of her dolls were the same scale as the dollhouse, so my role was that of the small, youngest sister; always belittled by the rest of the family, yet somehow always the center of attention. Claire made sure of it. She adored me, but in all the wrong ways.

I was dragged along everywhere with her, but I feared both her wrath and the potential fright from her sister, who thinks I’m possessed or cursed. Technically, I am cursed, but not in the way she’s probably thinking. There was a brief moment where I was desperately tempted to tell her, though. Claire had me with her, sitting right beside her sister. All I had to do was call out to her, and she’d likely take me far away from my awful captor. But then what would she do to me? Rat me out to her parents? Try to ‘exorcise’ or kill me? No, it’s better to stay where I am. Claire also tried to hide me as best she could. I guess she thinks I might try to tell someone or run away again. At this point, I don’t think I have the strength to run away.

Late one afternoon, as I was sitting around the table for a 'meal' with the other dolls, I snapped. Not the violent kind of snap like twigs underfoot, but rather a quiet, groaning crumble like that of a felled tree. I remember it so clearly. It was right in the middle of a scene where I was supposed to talk about my fake day at fake school with my fake family. My line came, I opened my mouth to speak, and.. started sobbing. Just out of the blue. I couldn't keep pretending any longer.

Slipping out of the chair that was just a little too tall, I fell to the ground and continued to bawl. Two fingers dragged me out of the dollhouse to the bedroom floor. I could feel Claire's gaze on my back. I held in a sob long enough to glance upward, and instantly sobered. My frustrated tears dried on my face.

Claire gave me such a cold, evil glare that my breath hitched in my chest. "That isn't your line," she said annoyedly, "Get back in and say your line." I tried. Trust me, I really tried. In fear and in vain I tried to go back, but I collapsed within the first two steps. Before I could continue on sobbing, I was yanked off my feet and thrown angrily down on her little kid's table in the corner. I could only watch in terror as her form loomed ever closer. Desperately, I tried to form an apology. Even if I had, I doubt that would've stopped her.

"Please, don't do this! Whatever you want to do to me-" Claire effortlessly pinned me down while I struggled for freedom. "No! I'll do anything! Just stop! STOP! PLEASE!" My pathetic sobbs fell on deaf ears. I quickly turned plastic in fear of what would happen, and thank god I did. In one terrible motion, she grasped my right arm and tore it clean off. All that was left was a gaping plastic socket.

"Huh, maybe you are a doll after all," Claire mused, noticing it. I screamed, but no sound came from my mouth. I don't exactly have vocal chords when I'm plastic, or a throat for that matter. I can barely even move.

A new realization dawned on me quickly afterwards. If I turn back, my arm will bleed out. My plastic form would have to be my only form. Unless I could somehow bargain for my arm back. I did; I tried desperately to get her to listen. But I couldn't get her to understand me before, nevermind now — I literally don't have a voice. "Forget your lines and you'll end up with more than just your arm missing," Clare threatened at the end of it all.

What did it matter? I can't act for her now. I was just like the rest of her dolls, still and compliant. I could move around with enough effort, but why bother? After only a few days of staying plastic, I became completely lethargic. There was no hope of escape. I would die here. Can I even die now? Being plastic, I don't think I can.

Ellie

I'd long come to terms with the fact that Hailey had run off. Wherever she was, I hoped she was doing alright. There wasn't really much I could do to find her beyond the searching I did, so in the end, the thought of her haunted little dollhouse was melancholy at best. I visited it on occasion; I even took her older brother to try and get answers from him on where his sister might’ve run off to, but he sat there lifelessly the whole time. Hailey really wasn’t kidding about them trying to keep the secret. The rest of the dolls don’t even know they’re people, I don’t think.

I really did try to befriend him, though. He was clearly adult age, so a lot of my befriending probably went right over his head. Still, I sat around and gave him company for several days. Once in the middle of the night, I caught him sneaking around and immediately got up to see him, but he fell over plastic before I got close. Two weeks went by before I put him back and gave up on him. Finding Hailey slowly became less and less of a priority.

That was until one day, while I was watching a show on TV, I noticed my sister playing with her dolls on the floor to my left. This was a completely normal occurrence, except there was a new, familiar-looking doll that caught my eye. Shuffling inconspicuously closer on the couch, I peered down. It was Hailey. It was undoubtedly Hailey. And she was missing an arm. I blanched at the sight, and for a moment, I thought she was dead. Then I remembered the strange way she could switch from flesh to plastic. Hailey had been a plastic doll instead of flesh and blood beneath the splinters of the small dollhouse where I’d found her. Her transformation must be some sort of unnatural defense. I knew Claire would never willingly give Hailey to me though, so I chose to improvise.

I pretended to be uninterested in her games, and glued my eyes to the television. When Claire disappeared down the hall to use the bathroom, I swept in and stole Hailey away. In a half run, I rushed into my room and locked the door behind me. Once I was behind the safety of my bedroom door, I carefully placed Hailey on my desk. Her plastic form fell sideways, limp. I stilled, was she dead?

"Hailey?" I'd never actually called her by her name before. Almost agonizingly slowly, she sat up. Her movements were almost mechanical as she tried to make the best use of the few joints she still had. Her missing arm only added to her limited movements. Wait, without her arm… "You can't turn back, can you?" I realized solemnly. Hailey slowly shook her head, mute. I couldn't even tell what she was feeling; her face was a mask of dull plastic expression. No doubt it was somewhere between terrified and miserable.

"Where's your arm?" I asked her. "It must be in my sister's room somewhere, right? If I bring you with me, could you help me get it?" Hailey nodded vigorously — the fastest I’d seen her move. Eagerly, I reached out to pick her up. A second later, she pressed herself against the back wall behind my desk. Though I couldn't read her expressions, she made it clear enough that she would NOT be manhandled. I don't blame her, especially knowing where she's actually been all this time.

I cupped my hands together and held them out for her, gesturing to climb in. Hailey’s plastic form shuddered, but she slowly shuffled her way into my hands, balancing awkwardly on legs that barely bent. I lifted her up and cautiously opened my bedroom door. Slinking quietly down the hall, I uneasily watched the doorway to the living room. Claire was frantically searching through her things, no doubt trying to find where Hailey had disappeared to. Thankfully, where Claire was currently situated in the living room made it hard for her to see down this hallway.

I slipped into her room and waited patiently for Hailey to give me the next directions. It must've been pretty hard work. She had to put in so much effort to simply point at things around us to guide me. As it turned out, her arm had been stashed in one of Claire's jewelry boxes. We'd found it just in time, too. My sister's footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Her room was one half of a jack and jill set, connected by a bathroom. Before Clare made it to her door, I'd slipped away into the bathroom and out into the other room. I waited in the second room — a guest bedroom; my room was just beyond this one. Hailey shifted nervously against my fingers, cold plastic pressing up against warm flesh.

Once I was sure Claire would be in there for a while, I crept back into my own room and re-locked the door. Placing Hailey back on my desk, I examined the plastic arm I'd stolen. Hailey desperately tried to stand, but the weight of the plastic was off balance, and she kept falling over backwards. Eventually, I sat down and took her gently in my hand, cautiously bending her plastic limbs to let Hailey sit down. She went completely still the moment I touched her. I didn't know whether it was because she trusted me, or because she was afraid of me, but I'm guessing it was more of the latter.

"I don't know if this will hurt or not, but I'm going to try to shove this back in now, alright?" I asked, holding out her arm. Hailey nodded, slower this time, like she was more hesitant. With one hand, I propped up Hailey’s body, and with the other I held the blunt side of her arm. Carefully, I pressed the plastic joint back into its socket. Tenuous pressure soon built up enough to snap the limb back into place with such a loud crack, that for a moment I thought I'd broken it.

Hailey took one small test movement, then immediately swapped back. Her ridgid, plastic features melded and smoothed. Her once expressionless face seemed to vanish beneath a horribly terrified expression. Hailey’s face was streaked with tears, and her eyes were bloodshot. It looked like she hadn't eaten or slept in days, which might very well be the case. She hesitantly edged herself backwards to the far side of my desk, whimpering as she felt the wall behind her, blocking her from going any further. "Are.. Are you going to kill me?" she asked in an eerily hollow voice, "Be-" she paused to cough, "Because I'm cursed?"

Oh, right. The last time we saw each other, I ran off in terror. Now, I know the truth; it was evidently clear. Despite her somewhat chilling abilities, Hailey really is just a person. A person who'd been tortured by whatever hell my sister thought to do with her. "Of course not," I answered in the kindest voice I could muster, "I'm not my sister. I won't hurt you."

Immediately, Hailey started crying. She knelt on my desk, head bent over as she quietly sobbed. I carefully reached out and scooped her up, unsure how else to comfort her. "You're ok," I whispered when she flinched in my grasp. For the first time, I noticed the ugly purple bruises that lined her arms. "Forget what I said to you before. I'm sorry I ran out. I swear I went back to apologize the very next day. It never occurred to me that my sister had found you. I kinda thought you left."

Hailey only curled up tighter in my hands. Eventually, she was all cried out. I placed her down and she stumbled backwards drowsily. I caught her before she could fall, and eased her down. She slumped over and almost fell asleep right then and there before she bumped one of her bruises and flinched awake. Startled, Hailey looked up at me frighteningly. "Why am I.. tired? So.. tired?" She could barely form words.

"You're probably sleep deprived, and by the looks of it, starving too." I lowered her to the surface of my desk, "Stay there, I'll get you some food." I raced out of the room and straight to the kitchen. A slice of bread and a bottle of water were all I could grab before dashing back. Again, I double checked the lock behind me. Hailey had fallen asleep, but I'd taken enough health and science classes to know that this was bad. If she fell asleep now, there was a good chance she wouldn't wake up.

I shook Hailey awake; thankfully she hadn't completely checked out. Then, I quickly ripped up the slice of bread into pieces small enough for her to eat, and handed her one. She scarfed it down while I poured out some water into a bottlecap for her to drink. It looked so wrong watching her practically eat from my hand, but right now Hailey probably couldn't care less. After making sure she'd eaten enough, I let her sleep. It was a bit safer now that her body had something to sustain itself for a while longer.

I dutifully sat at my desk until she awoke. Only leaving once to poke my head out the door to say: "No Claire, I haven't seen your missing doll, but I'm sure it's around somewhere. After all, it can't just get up and walk away, can it?" As I sat there patiently, I thought through what had happened between Hailey and my sister. Could Claire really be that sadistic? Why did she do this to Hailey? I had to admit, she didn’t have the best track record, but she should surely know better than to do this to a person, right? I huffed, plunking back down next to my desk. While Hailey slept, I looked over her bruises. She looked awful, tortured even. I gave my sister the benefit of the doubt and hoped that this had only happened because Hailey could barely move and couldn't speak. Hopefully, Hailey had been plastic the whole time, and my sister had only mistook her for another doll.

Hailey

I was greeted with three different kinds of pain when I woke up. My stomach was eating itself from the inside out, my head was pounding, and the bruises everywhere throbbed dully. I groaned a little in agony, and the whole right side of my vision shifted. My first instinct was to brace myself for the worst. I'd been sleeping, and it was daylight. Surely Claire would punish me for this. However, when nothing happened, I risked a glance at the gigantic figure beside me. I realized with a mixture of relief and terror that I was now held captive by a different sister. At least this one understands that I'm a person. This one tries to communicate with me.

Then, I noticed the plate of food and water to my left. Not even bothering to ask if I was allowed to, I scrambled the short distance across the desktop and ate. I was in the middle of another ravenous bite, having eaten a good amount of the available food, when Ellie suddenly interjected. "You probably shouldn't eat much more, you don't want to get sick."

Who the hell cares if I get sick? I'm hungry. I tried to keep eating, but she reached for me and I practically flung myself out of the way. Trust me, I wanted to stand my ground, but I'd been attacked so many times for disobedience it was like a natural reflex to me. My landing only made my bruises throb angrily, and I sucked in a harsh breath of air to calm the pain. Ellie gave me a sympathetic look and poured me a fresh cap of water. It only then occurred to me that I was very much her pet, all things considered. I came when I was called, did as she asked, ate from her scraps. Hell, I even cried right in front of her as she held me. I didn't like that revelation one bit.

"What do you want with me?" I asked, remembering our brief conversation before I passed out. "If you're not going to kill me.. am I just your pet now?" Ellie seemed shocked, which might be a good thing? I watched as she looked between me and the plate of food next to me. No doubt recognizing the sad predicament I was in.

She sighed, "I read about what happened to you." Ellie leaned forward slightly and looked me over. "You're Hailey Willson, aren't you?" It was strange hearing my real name for the first time in who-knows-how-long. I almost didn't recognize it. "Yes, I'm Hailey Willson, a REAL person. I- I'm not a doll.. please, I-" I what? I'm tired of being treated like shit? I just want to be normal again? Was it not my own damn fault that I'm stuck like this?

"Just.. I'm begging you, you have to understand." But how could she? Never in her wildest dreams would Ellie be in the same situation I am. "I'll try to," she answered cautiously, "And you aren't my pet, or anything like that. I do see you as a person, honestly I do. I know how this looks," she gestured to the meager little meal she'd given me, "but I swear it's only because I was in a hurry. You're not a pet, you're not a doll. I.. don't know.. a friend, maybe? That is if you're willing."

I knelt, trying to process what I was hearing. My head pulsed painfully against my skull. "That's.. Thank you, I- I just don't feel like making any more life-altering decisions right now." Ellie nodded, and I eased myself backwards until I was lying half propped up on a stack of books piled on the desk. I closed my eyes and took a few shuddering breaths. How had I screwed myself over so completely? Everyone, even a little kid, has more control over my own life than I do. Any of these people could do whatever they wanted to me, and I'd have no choice but to comply. Sure, I would be treated, for the most part, like I should be here with Ellie, but that was entirely up to her. If she felt like it, she could turn on me in an instant and I would be powerless against her, against any of them.

This was all too much for me; I could feel hot tears sliding down my cheeks. Not again. I must look like such a pity case to Ellie. No wonder she wants to take care of me. Then again, I probably looked just as bad around her sister, but Claire had never so much as given me a day off. I don't want to be 'taken care of', though. I just want things to be normal. A longing pain jabbed at me from the inside as still more tears seeped through my eyelids, now shut tightly.

I'll never have a normal life, I realized in mental agony. Even if I am a person, at least to Ellie, there are still so many things I’ll never be able to do on my own.

While I sat hunched over in desperation, I began to wish that I'd never known I was human. My life as a doll was terribly simple, but at least I didn't feel like this. I cut myself off at the last moment, eyes flickering open. You idiot! Wishing on stupid shit is exactly what got you into this mess in the first place!

I gasped, realizing that I could've doomed myself a second time. Slowly, I turned to Ellie. She was still sitting next to me, hand slightly outstretched like she wasn't sure whether she should try to comfort me with it. Her face was etched with worry; she looked almost as helpless as I felt. It was slightly relieving to see Ellie so distraught — so entirely different from her psychotic sister. I know that probably makes me a terrible person, but it’s reassuring to know that she actually cares about me. Despite everything, I just might survive.

#again I don’t know what inspired younger me to write this…#this is the only one of my ‘old g/t’ stories still worth salvaging #The rest of them are either half-baked ideas or too short to be considered stories #g/t #giant tiny #whump #promptober/inktober

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marvellousstawler · 1 year ago

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Mon 9 Oct

Welcome to the special post-PAXAus edition of...my journal, I guess? I'm going to start with one of my takeaways from a panel I attended featuring Erika Ishii. I was struck with the honesty of their advice to the audience, a sort of honesty usually eschewed in panels like these in favour of a pristine optimism to inspire hope in the audience. She outlined it this way: getting to do the thing you love as a career is a fusion of hard work/persistent effort toward that thing, and right-place-right-time-right-person opportunity. So, no matter what career you have (or do not have), ALWAYS do the thing you love whenever you get a chance. Because you need to be ready for when those opportunities present themselves, even if they never will. I personally found that very inspiring, given how much of my time and energy I now have to spend on my Big Girl Job(tm).

But, to add to her advice, I think there was something Ishii missed an opportunity to address in their panel; your passion shouldn't come at the cost of you. If you have a job or something else that takes all the energy out of you, it's no good putting even more pressure on yourself to get art/writing/whatever done if it's just going to burn you out. One thing that I'm very happy that she emphasised is this: it's more than okay, to be JUST ok at things! More people should let themselves be just ok at things.

Art My past self was right in her prediction of my current self -- I am indeed the owner of a wonderfully shitty Flame Emperor Mask, and I'm pleased to report that it is just as janky, creepy and inconvenient to both wear and carry as could be expected of a first-time cosplay-maker. I met many extremely talented cosplayers at PAX; it ain't easy and it ain't cheap; mad respect. It was a surreal experience, taking (as they say in D&D) a level of exhaustion, just to complete an item to wear for one day (in case you're wondering what inspired me to provide the soapbox paragraph above this one). Even so, it is now proudly displayed on my bookshelf, well worth doing just to try something new and do something fun. Let me know in the replies if you'd like to see it. I *might* still have some time this evening to work on my cool D&D characters picture (working title is 'Sisters In Moons') now that I've completed the mask, but actually my priority this evening is to catch up on rest. PAXing is taxing.

Writing So much Mittelfranks brainrot I literally opened Google Docs on my phone to work on it during my lunchbreak, which given I usually need a nice quiet comfy space with a desk and computer to do any work, is very unlike me. Where's all this motivation for my other projects! Still, only writing for 5 minutes at a time whenever I get a chance to open my phone, while perfectly respectable, hasn't actually yielded a great many words, this week. The only other thing I worked on was one of two D&D-related projects (one for each character/campaign I'm in atm), where I attempt to make notes about every NPC we've met and their factions, using the style and cadence of the character I'm playing. I don't believe I'll be able to write either of them as quickly as new NPCs get introduced, but gosh darn if I ain't gonna try.

Reading I have not had much opportunity to read this week. I usually read on the train, and these past days I have just been too tired to do anything but stare out the window. I did, however, on the way home from the end of PAX, get the sudden resolve to purge my room of the "excess" books I've accrued throughout my life, either from gift-givers who wished plenty but knew little, or a Past Self trying to shape herself into something that she would never be. I have no issue keeping books of childhood significance in this room, with the expectation that they will remain here when I move out, but everything that is no longer providing positive energy, even if it's just neutral energy, should be brought to a better home. It would be unethical to let those books remain here, where they can't be at their most loved!

Thaaaaaaaat said I'm not likely to get a free weekend any time soon...

Don't forget to vote.

#journal #marvomakesathing #creative writing #writeblr #cosplay #pax aus #writing #art #books and reading #bookblr #writers of tumblr #soapbox #advice

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firespirited · 8 months ago

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As a forced 'pause' and break from routine I'm watching the Die Hard films.

It's a bit of an odd experience as I don't have any nostalgia for them or for Bruce Willis as an action star. See, I enjoyed the Sixth Sense and loved Unbreakable (yep bad crip rep and all) but Fifth Element was the first/only exposure to Willis as the quippy macho but vulnerable action hero.

I'm guessing that was the template so to speak because Die Hard is THE same dude as the fifth element and we've seen his wisecracking type everywhere (notably the Ryan Reynolds/The Rock type).

Anyway, it's hard to keep in mind that it was groundbreaking at the time to have a flawed action hero when there are plot points that really stick in your teeth:

The film doesn't let him say sorry to his wife even though there are plenty of opportunities, it's clear that's the only thing that'll fix his marriage but I guess she's a mind-reader and heartfelt confessions are for bros only. ugh.

The casual reminders that he's a policeman who breaks the rules and does violence on the regular (LAPD, 1988, you know that's not pretty) so you're like ok, ok so he's a bad guy taking out worse guys.

and then his new partner reveals he's on desk duty because he killed a child. I had to pause the film and stare at the wall for a while because he described the Tamir Rice murder down to the stupid fake gun. Tamir wasn't the first by any means, that's why they put the coloured caps on toy guns in the first place. You wonder why cops with ptsd are armed, why they're armed at all, you wonder why they aren't taught less lethal methods, you wonder what he was doing there anyway, you wonder about why we give toy guns to little boys.

You tell yourself it's just a story, you try to get back into it.

But this Hans Gruber guy is executing a really smart heist: it's just money! the body count is one innocent CEO and one treacherous cocaine snorting exec. If we can save the hostages then do we really care if he gets away? What's the motivation here? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ free the hostages no-one cares about the rest.

-------------

Die Hard 2 starts with William Sadler (aka Bill and Ted's grim reaper) doing very naked tai chi (slow kung fu?), making serious faces to the mirror while he flexes his muscles. I see. We are beyond machismo and into camp, I'll give it five minutes to sway me.

The film lampshades its premise and mocks authority straight up instead of the fake out we had in part 1. I have no idea why grim reaper wants fake Castro freed. There are references to the war on drugs and falling into communism like those are very scary things and the mere mention of them explains things.

The tension on this one is excellent - it leans more into looney toons absurdism while also making the stakes a lot higher. Don't get me wrong, it's very stupid but everyone is hamming it up, somehow that works better than the first film which was supposed to be more grounded in reality.

Colm Meaney who plays O'Brien is piloting the aircraft that has a very bad day. That was painful, in a good way.

The cast of bad guys™ has John Leguizamo, Robert Patrick and Vondie Curtis Hall amongst other 'that dude from the thing!' faces.

Entertaining if cartoony. More janitors and engineers and fewer cops makes it easier to root against the baddies.

#saf #movie reviews #die hard #die hard 2

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choppedvoidcomputer · 1 year ago

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guess im going to go full carrie bradshaw on this one but i have to get it out of my chest, not sure if i want you to see this or if it should stay with myself, i guess whatever happens happens. Just for a future reference to myself, life's been pretty kind to me I think. I feel whole in ways I haven't felt in a long time, I feel so grateful for everything that has happened to me over this year, the good and bad. Although I must admit at first I didn't take the bad stuff so well, it hurt too much, I've felt anger in ways I've never fel before, but now I see it was for a greater good and i've learned so much. Especially that i don't need anyone to be happy (I mean that in the sense of a boyfriend), that I can have fun by myself. Because for such a long time I felt like I couldn't be on my own and feel ok about it, I needed to chase love otherwise I'd be miserable. And now I realise it's not like that at all. These last months I felt the happiest I've ever been, I started to appreciate small things, I've grown so many amazing friendships and most importantly I've felt so free. Free of that believe that I need someone, and now that I've realized I don't, I feel like nothing can stop me. I hope this feeling lasts

now that that's out of the way, I have a few (maybe a lot, we'll see) things to say to you. I really didn't want to do this out of anger but I feel like it can get out of my control really fast, I'll try my best

i feel like you're angry at me, and you know, everybody's process is different, and you're allowed to feel whatever you like, but i think you're angry at me for the wrong reasons, with the wrong arguments. I wish I didn't feel like I had to do this, but here I am, needing to defend myself.

you can say that i didn't love you or that i wouldn't do what it takes for you, and you can believe that all you want, whatever makes you feel better about yourself. But we both know that's simply not the truth. I did everything beyond my reach for you, over and over again. I forgave you so many times. I gave you so many opportunities to show that you actually cared about me. But all you ever did was talk, talk about how much you loved me, about me being the one. But you never acted like I was the one. All the lying, hiding and leaving me alone at the times I needed you the most. I remember what your answer were when I would tell you that, you'd say that you weren't doing good either, and that you couldn't take care of me because you needed to take care of yourself. But there were so many times I was down, and you were too, where I would hide my problems just so I could be there for you, and did everything for trying to make you feel better.

I chose you over me every single time, you were my priority

And yet, when you had the chance to make things right with me (i gave you plenty of chances) you chose other people over me (the love of your life, you claimed)

Sometimes I wonder if you ever really loved me at all, because you don't do the things you did to someone you really love. It's that easy

So yeah, at the end I chose myself, I chose the leave the guy who did all of those terrible things to me, who said the most gut wrenching things to me (that I'll remember for a long time) and you can get mad at me all you want for that, for "giving up", as you would probably say. But I did the same exact thing you did to me

also, you like to say I left you for someone else or that kind of tumblr post "when i was thinking about you, you met someone new", real mr. brightside shit if you ask me. but i must remember you, you're the one who did that (you remember at the beach, don't you?). Besides, I see you didn't waste any time replacing me

I'm sorry if it sounded agressive, but for what is worth I'm glad to know you're happy. Maybe in a perfect world things could've been different, but i'm really happy in this world too

As the wise Sylvia Plath once wrote: “I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.” (She wrote this at a entirely different idea, but i feel it represents well how I feel)

i wish i could write somenthing pretty at the end but it's impossible to top sylvia plath, so I'll leave it at that (it rymed hehe)

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thermodynamic-comedian · 2 years ago

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For the ask game!

3, 5, 11, 13, 14, 16, 18, 22, 23, 27, 29

(only answer the ones you're comfortable with!)

3. a specific color that gives you the ick?

beige. ew.

5. favorite form of potato?

french fries!!! i fucking love french fries.

11. anything from your childhood you’ve held on to?

hmm, a few old books, i guess.

13. first thing you’re doing in the purge?

ensuring self-protection (a few knives, y'know. i don't own a lot of weapons, i'll make do with what i've got), making a list of people who might possible have some reason (other than pure bloodthirst) to harm me, calling my friends to make sure they're 1. ok 2. not out killing anybody, and making plans with them to meet up at whoever's house is the most secure. i know some of my friends have lighters, i'll ask them to bring those just in case. we do have friendship bracelets, we'll wear them to be able to identify each other (because obviously we'll be wearing masks in public). now, you may be asking, "but frey, what if your friends try to kill you?" well, that's what the knives are for. also, i trust my friends. we drank cartman potion at 3 am together once (don't ask), i don't think they'd try to go for me. then, we'll hide in whoever's house is the securest (probably remy's, he has a large but safe basement).

alternatively: in a universe where i'm both much more brave and own proper gear to do stuff like that (e.g. better masks, protective gear, all that) i can't say i wouldn't steal something. and, i know this is wistful thinking, but if i knew for a fact someone was a fascist and i had the opportunity to go for them, then. well. that's what the knives are for.

14. do you think you’re dehydrated?

right now? a little. i'll drink plenty when i get home, don't worry.

16. thoughts on mint chocolate chip?

love it. used to be my go-to ice cream flavor.

18. your boba/tea order?

not big on boba, but i do like milk chocolate boba. for regular tea, i love all of it. not as much black tea as roibos tea and green tea, but i just love tea in general.

22. do you have an emotional support water bottle?

nope. just regular water bottles, lol.

23. do you wear jewelry?

eh, not really. just my afformentioned friendship bracelet (it was made by remy, everybody in the friendgroup has one of their favourite color, and the word "fag", because we're all queer and funny like that. mine is green and orange.)

27. what’s your favorite or go-to outfit?

don't really have one, but i do love a cargo pants, oversized t-shirt, and hoodie combo.

29. preferred pasta noodle?

penne because i'm basic, farfalle because i'm a little cool sometimes.

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bellsyafterdark · 3 years ago

Note

are there any other star wars ships that you're into/that we can bounce ideas off you? (if that's not wanted then my bad)

I am pretty much an omnishipper which means I support everything but not all of them catch my interest in the same way.

I tend to be drawn to ships with a bit of shade, where they could/do antagonise each other a little or a lot, even better if one or more involved have done some questionable shit. I like ships that aren't so straightforward, self-evident, or popular, because the fun for me is to figure out how a rare, unlikely or non-intuitive puzzle of a relationship works or could be possible.

And if there's Size Difference? Holy 🔥. Service Top potential -- hold my gd beer. Bonus inhuman and/or monstrous elements on top? Baby, I'm already writing just point me where.

For me it's a little less "who?" and it's more "what are they bringing to the table?" If the concept is interesting to me, even if the ship is super-established, I'll be curious. I prefer when the challenges are thematically resonant with what we know of their character so the challenges or questions to explore are meaty and satisfying.

(you wouldn't know this from all the porn I've been writing but it's been stressful ok)

Marie Kondo is my creative muse: I love mess. And then I like to see if either we can make that ship's mess worse or navigate our way out into greener, therapised, mutually communicative pastures.

I find the more the merrier especially fun, as is probably obvious by the ball and chain polycule and YES I SAW THAT ASK TO BRING COBB BY FOR A VISIT AND I AM SALIVATING OKAY I WANT IT 😍🤤🔥

I really wish my brain wasn't so wired for rarepairs bc I would have so much more fucking food 😂

Some specific ship examples below the cut.

Rare randoms I want see more

Any iteration of Bo-Katan/Koska Reeves/Axe Woves. Why is there not more content for these three? And then inflict them on Din idk.

Boba/Koska: I know 90% of people heard "little one" and gave it to Din but maaaaaan this was fire FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

(if it's a Mando ship my reprieve will often be "inflict them on Din" bc he's our hero)

Boba/Fennec (Bobannec) makes me crazy because I love power couples with conflict. I love that tbobf didn't start with everything at peace. Ah, show me the journeeeeeey 😍

Anything Axe Woves: just, who the fuck are you, dude? Huh? Tell me.

Anything Armourer, Koska or Fennec: I want them to beat me up and/or sit on my face and I'm not particular about the order.

Paz/Probably Anyone because it would be an opportunity to explore his character.

Din/The Darksaber: I read a story where the darksaber had a symbiote and it's never left my brain ok

Din/Monsters: This is not very fucking deep, I just love monsters

Background commentary

Din/Robots: Dude is a recovering droidphobic let's please traumatise I mean continue his journey

Thrawn/Eli Vanto: I know nothing about Eli Vanto but Thrawn is my actual favourite star wars character so I want to learn more about Thrawn

I've read plenty of QuiObi and cried tears over Codywan, I love Anidala and classics like HanLeia but I know I'm never going to write for those. I never even sit back and wonder about them. Because I get why they work. Those are what I read when I know exactly what I need and will get.

For instance, Din/Luke is the leading mlm ship in the Mando fandom (I think) and I think it's sweet! It also gives Din plenty of opportunities to be with his baby 🤗💛 But nothing fires in my brain for that ship because... I get it 😂 also they're both so similar in their gentle natures and I prefer ships where there's more fire in the complement. DinLuke would be the neighbours I want to live beside but I sure don't wonder about their prospective love life.

(I'm more partial to Han/Luke because Back In My Day we liked pain; how would Luke navigate this impasse where he may love his sister unconditionally but he's trying to smother this shameful, painful yearning for her partner/husband, etc.)

The only things I don't write are reader inserts and OCs (basically the same thing). Again, I support them and I've read plenty, ok my first entry into writing for Mando was the absurdly popular pairing of Din and this original stormtrooper character named Corin BC the writer was just that engaging, but now I have an actual cast to play with. I'd rather see what opportunities they all provide for me.

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adagiocomplex · 3 years ago

Text

Anais Agreste vs Paris Chapter 2: Anais vs Mr. Pigeon - Part 2

Summary: Anais and Corinne try to get suplies to make the derby hat and are interrupted by an unexpected akuma attack.

Link for AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36319645/chapters/96355707

During break Anais and Corinne sit together on a bench, next to them sits Denise, reading a book.

Corinne: So, you're gonna take part in the competion?

Anais: I can't. Since my uncle is the one judging it, I'm not allowed to participate.

Corinne: Oh. Good.

Anais: ? Good?

Corinne: I mean, not good, you know but I'm gonna do it, so, you know, it's good to have less competition... I'm not very good at making derby hats.

Anais: It's alright haha, I can help you if you want.

Corinne: Didn't you say you couldn't participate?

Anais: Not on my name, I'll be just helping you but is not mine.

Corinne: Oh.

Denise overhears the conversation and stops reading her book.

Denise: You guys are getting into the contest?

Corinne: Yeah.

Denise: That's so cool! I wanted to do it too, but I know nothing about hats.

Corinne: Well, me neither, but I do like making things, and who knows, I might learn something new.

Denise: Hey, maybe I could help you make it too?

Anais: Aww that's so sweet of you.

Corinne: Sure! I'm going to buy some supplies after class, maybe you two could come.

Anais: I'd love to! And then you could show me around Paris.

Corinne: Of course, but today will only be the mini tour, cause we have to focus on the hat, after that I'll take you a bunch of places.

____

When school's out, Anais and Corinne wait outside for Denise.

Anais: It was so nice of her to help us too, she your friend?

Corinne: No, I don't even know her.

Anais: Wait, what?

Corinne: Which reminds me, we didn't get her name either, did we?

They both stare at each other confused, they didn't even ask the girl's name?

Adrien: Hey Anais, how was your first day?

Anais: It was good but would've been better if I had spent some time with you where'd you go before class?

Adrien: What do you mean? I was right behind you. And then we met during break didn't we?

Anais looks at him suspicious.

Anais: Well yeah, too bad for you cause now I'm going out with Corinne this afternoon.

Adrien: Oh that's great, you made a friend. Don't worry, Anais, we'll have plenty of opportunities to spent time together. - He says smiling. - Oh, the car is here, you're staying this time then right?

Anais: Yeah.

Adrien: Ok, see you later at home.

Anais: He's too good for this world... Even though he ditched me.

Corinne: You're gonna hold that grudge forever aren't you?

Anais: Yep.

Denise: Oh hey girls, you're still here. I was afraid you'd forget me.

Anais: How could we forget if we didn't even get to know.

Corinne: Sorry, we didn't get your name.

Denise: Oh, I'm Denise, Denise Bustier. I didn't say anything because you didn't say anything and then I thought that meant you knew who I was haha.

Anais: Why would we?

Corinne: She's ms. Bustier's daughter.

Anais: Oh.

Corinne: Sorry, ms. Bustier mentioned you, but I didn't know it was, well, you.

Denise: Oh no, it's fine. So, shall we?

After searching a bit about how to make derby hats, the girls visit some supply stores to find material to make the hat.

Corinne: I think we just have one more stop and then we're done shopping.

Anais: We're going to your house to make it?

Corinne: I was thinking we could just go back to school and do it there.

Anais: Can we use it after school hours?

Denise: We can sneak in and stay by the lockers, there's no one there.

Anais: Ok then.

Corinne: There it is, that one across the street! I work here so we might be able to get some things with a little discount.

Suddenly they see a crowd running down the street and passing through them screaming.

Anais: What is this?

Corinne: Oh no...

Denise: Could it be?

Anais: Could it be what??

A cloud of pigeons covers the sun and flies right above them.

Denise: Akuma attack!

Corinne: OH NO...

Anais: What the hell??

Corinne: Quick we have to get to the store for cover!

Anais stands still discombobulated as the others run.

Corinne: C'mon! - she grabs Anais' hand and runs with her.

They find cover at the store and stare outside through the glass. Anais is stunned.

Anais: What is that?

Denise: You've never seen akumas before?

Anais: No?

Corinne: Wow, Adrien didn't brief you very well, did he?

Anais: Guess not.

Denise: Basically there's this terrorist named Hawkmoth who takes people's emotions and uses against them by creating superpowerful villains who destroy the city.

Anais: o-o what. Is that allowed?

Corinne: Of course not!

Denise: That's why I said terrorist.

Corinne: He's always ruining my plans...

Anais: So I suppose that would be one of his villains? - Anais gets closer to the glass window and sees Mr. Pigeon on the distance standing on a cloud of pigeons. - What's his name?

Denise: This one's new. But apparently has something to do with pigeons.

Anais: Does he control them or something? Is that possible?

Corinne: In Paris everything's possible lately. I've learned not to be amazed anymore. But doesn't mean it doesn't bother me.

Denise: I think despite the possible death and inconveniences, it's actually pretty cool.

Anais sees Ladybug and Chat Noir arriving to fight and is intrigued. She heads to the store's door and opens it.

Corinne: Anais what are you doing?

Anais goes outside.

Denise: From a distance. It's cool from a distance! You're gonna hurt yourself!

Corinne: Or damage your clothes with pigeon poop! Oh God.

Corinne runs after her.

Anais: Who are those? More akumas?

Corinne: Those are Ladybug and Chat Noir, the heroes of Paris. They defend the city from the villains and Hawkmoth. - She grabs Anais' arm and attempts to pull her. - But we can talk about this inside, we can't stay in the crossfire like this.

Anais: Oh c'mon, I wanna see them up close! - She disattaches herself from Corinne and runs in direction to the fight.

Corinne is then hit by a pigeon poop on her sweater. She's so distraught she falls down on her knees.

Corinne: NOOO MY FAVORITE SWEATER!

Denise runs out of the shop to help her stand and get her in since Corinne was frozen in anger and despair.

Denise: Poor girl, let's go, don't worry, miraculous ladybug is gonna fix it all.

Corinne (crying): But it's ruined for now...

Denise: Oh sweetie, let's go inside.

They get in.

Denise: What about Anais? Should I go after her?

Corinne: She made her choice. Should try being friends with Alya...

Anais continues running less bothered by the pigeons than a normal person would be, astonished by the phenomenon she had never seen before. She sees Ladybug and Chat Noir getting inside a building after Mr. Pigeon and follows them, hiding behind a pillar.

Anais: Wow, so cool!

Chat Noir hits some pigeons with his baton and proceeds to jump from a beam to the floor. Anais eyes glow. The heroes destroy the akumatized object and free Mr. Ramier.

Ladybug: Miraculous Ladybug!

Anais: Woohoo!! Wait what am I cheering for, I don't know what that does...

Chat Noir sees Anais and gets concerned.

Chat Noir: Hey there, civilian. You shouldn't be here, it could be dangerous.

Anais: Oh, so caring <3. Don't worry, you two saved me didn't you.

Chat Noir: Of course, a hero like me will always save the people of Paris. - Despite being worried about his cousin, he doesn't miss a chance to brag.

Ladybug: But what if we didn't? He's right, you should be more careful.

Anais: How did you get your powers?

Ladybug: Um, well, thank you for your support, I gotta go, be safe!

Chat Noir: Goodbye Anais!

Anais: Byee!

Corinne and Denise come in running, they're both out of breath.

Denise: We heard the battle ended here and figured you'd be here too.

Anais sees Corinne's clean sweater.

Anais: Didn't you have a stain in your sweater?

Corinne: Wait you saw that? You saw my downfall and misery and walked away anyways?

Anais: Technically I ran.

Corinne: You're lucky miraculous ladybug saved me.

Denise: Since you probably don't know that too, miraculous ladybug is a power Ladybug uses after defeating the akuma that kinda resets all the damage it caused while akumatized.

Anais: Wow, Paris is more complicated than I thought.

Denise: Don't worry you get used to it.

Corinne: The easy way or the hard way.

Anais: Oh, do you also know how do they get her powers?

Denise: According to the Ladyblog, Alya's blog about ladybug, which I follow cause I'm a big ladybug fan, it's probably through something called the miraculouses, Ladybug's earrings and Chat Noir's ring.

Anais: Oh. How do you get one of those?

Denise: You don't, that's why Hawkmoth wants them so much, they're unique.

Anais: Are they though?

Denise: I'm pretty sure they are.

Corinne: Although it would be interesting to get one, they seem like exquised pieces of accessories.

Anais: Forget the accessories, what about the power? The adventure of fighting and saving Paris?

Denise: Yeah, but to save Paris you have to know it first and we didn't get much of a chance with all the pigeons flying around.

Corinne: Which is sad, sure, but we'll have to leave to another day. We're running out of time to finish my hat!

The next day arrives and the hats are being judged. Corinne's hat is falling apart but she's standing proudly next to it, she knows she did her best. Anais stands leaning on a pillar, watching from affar. Denise comes in.

Anais: You're not gonna stand there beside her to claim it?

Denise: Oh no, it's her hat, look at her, she's so proud of it, it's so cute. It was her idea and all, I was just there to learn and have fun, don't need the credits.

Gabriel disapproves of Corinne's hat. She's sad but still proud of what she made. Anais and Denise get close.

Anais: Don't mind what he says, is not like his designs are very tasteful either.

Denise: I think our little baby is beautiful.

Corinne: I know, don't worry. It's the best I could do and I just know that next time it's gonna be even better.

Anais stares at her uncle now judging Marinette. She rolls her eyes at Chloe and her attempt to copy the hat, but what catched her attention most is Marinette's interaction with Adrien. Isn't that the girl who got late to class with Adrien? How weird.

Anais: She's really strange.

Corinne: Who? Marinette? Nah, she's just a little clumsy sometimes, but she's very nice, you'll see. I'm happy for her winning.

Anais proceeds to watch her being awakward with Adrien and tries to understand the situation.

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years ago

Text

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 4

Word Count: 8,133

POV: Jamie and then switches to reader

Warnings: Language, small amount of smut so we will say NSFW

Notes: This is hell long, I’m sorry. I don’t normally write chapter/parts this long, so don’t get used to it, because I’m sure it won’t last...haha! At any rate here we go with Part 4. As always I love your feedback, both good and bad, so hit me with it. Happy Reading! Also (Y/NN) = Your Nickname (Y/LN) = Your Last Name

Ruined Masterlist

JAMIE POV

Five days, that's how long it was until you saw (Y/N) again. Well, it was four days, sixteen hours, twenty-two minutes, and forty-two seconds, give or take a second or two. And why did you know the exact time, only because you'd been counting the hours since she left Jordie and Jessi's house. The dinner party had gone great, at least you thought it had, but then you hadn't seen her since then; not even a glimpse of her outside in the backyard or pulling into the driveway. It was maddening or maybe it was just you slowly going insane as every little noise outside had you wandering over to the window to check and see if it was her. It hadn't taken much to convince your brother to throw a dinner party on short notice, in an excuse so you could see (Y/N), but now that you had, there was just this overwhelming need to see more and more of her.

Now, here you were, just four days, sixteen hours, twenty-four minutes, and sixteen seconds from seeing her again. She was to be at the practice center at four-thirty today, so that someone, that someone being you, of course, could show her around the facility. You stood back a bit, staring at the entrance doors just waiting for her to walk in. And then she did. She looked radiant. Dressed in a simple navy pantsuit with a pair of high heels that clicked across the floor, she made her way to the front desk. Instead of rushing out to greet her, you headed back to the locker room, where you knew the receptionist would usher her back to you.

Your palms were sweating and suddenly you felt unsure of yourself. What if she was only playing nice at Jordie's and really didn't want to be around you? But that didn't explain how she'd laughed and reminisced with you about different things. That laugh, you knew it was a genuine one, for you heard it so many times in your dreams you had it memorized. God, you hoped you could make her laugh like that again today.

You could hear her heels on the floor, so you busied yourself with one of your sticks retaping the blade, even though it didn't need it. "The team captain is in there, Miss. If you need anything just let me know." You heard the door open and then turned around.

"Jamie?"

"Oh hey (Y/NN)," you tried to sound casual as if her simply being in the same room as you didn't send your heart beating into overdrive.

"I guess I didn't realize you were the team's captain."

"Yeah, have been for a few years now." Your heart sank a bit in the knowledge that she hadn't really followed your career except to know where you were, so she could avoid you.

"Well that's…," she stumbled on her words which was unusual for her and you wondered if she was as affected by you as you were by her, or if it was just her disdain for you, and that she hated to give you any amount of praise. "That's really amazing. Your coaches and team must really hold you in high regard."

"I'd like to think so." You finally abandoned the stick that didn't need taping, leaning it against the wall before turning your attention back to (Y/N). "Anyhow, I guess I'm your tour guide today." She gave a weak smile and a simple head nod, which was not encouraging to say the least. "So, how about we get started? If you want you can leave your stuff in here, no one will bother it." She'd been carrying her medical bag and a few other things, but she handed them over to you and you set them in your stall. "Well, as you can see this is our practice locker room, pretty basic. I thought we'd start with a tour of the entire place before I show you the training room."

The two of you headed down the hallway and back out to the lobby. "Obviously, you came in this way, but I'll show you the entrance you can use in the future. We're pretty much contained to this side of the building as you can see, but when practices are open, people can come and watch." You showed her the rink, from seat level, then headed back out. "This is the club lounge, if there's ever an event here where we aren't skating we use one of the boxes up there. You're more than welcome to as well."

"I have to say this is kind of elaborate for a practice rink."

"A bit."

"I was expecting metal bleachers and…well, I don't know. I feel like this is more like the arena and then a practice rink."

You chuckled, for you kind of thought the same thing, the first time you came here. Now you barely even noticed it. "Well, the boards are the same as the AAC, but other than that it's very different."

"AAC?"

"American Airlines Center," you hadn't realized you shortened the name. "Sorry about that. I think we're scheduled to tour that on Wednesday." It gave you another opportunity to be with her.

"Yes, I have that on my calendar, but was going to see if we could change that." You supposed there was your answer about her wanting to be in the same room as you. "Dr. Ellis has a patient that needs a knee arthroplasty and he asked if I'd show him the technique I've been using. Less evasive and I'm having great success with cutting the healing time by half." Oh, so it was a medical thing, whatever an arthroplasty was. "If we could push it back a bit that would be great, if not maybe we could look at another time."

"I'll work around your schedule, it's not a problem." If it meant spending more time with her you'd go to any lengths that you had to.

"Thanks, if we could maybe make for like three in the afternoon instead of noon that will give me plenty of time because I have a feeling, he'll want me to sit in on his other two surgeries he has scheduled that day."

"Not a problem." You took out your phone and made the change in your calendar. Thankfully, you didn't really have anything after practice that day but giving her the tour. "Shall we continue then?" She smiled, and it made your heart feel light. You took her to the offices next. "Down this hallway is pretty much everyone that works for the Stars; PR, accounting, our GM, our owner. You'll pretty much find them here." You stopped in front of a door and then opened it up. "This office is for you." It had a great view, well as much of a view as any of them had, but it really was a nice place for her to work.

"Umm…this won't do."

You blinked at her a couple times, there was really nothing wrong with the room. Everything in there was modern with state-of-the-art equipment. "What's wrong with it?" The words came out a little harsher than you intended but you really couldn't see her problem.

"Well for starters, we're on the what, the third floor? And I believe the locker room and training room are on the first." You gave a confused look as this was Dr. Lundin's old office and he never been concerned about it being where it was. "It's just if I'm going to be working on you…well not you, but any of you. I need to be near you. I can be at ice level during practices, but if I'm treating you, my office should be closer to the ice." Well, you couldn't really argue with that. "Also, there's no exam table in here. I get that I'll be doing most things in your training room, but there may be times when I'll need you to stop in to look over something, or what if one of you need to see me about something private."

She had a point, though none of you had ever really gone to Dr. Lundin like that. Come to think of it, he wasn't really around that much. He more or less made recommendations on where you should go if you had a problem. He wasn't necessarily the doctor to fix you. Seems like (Y/N) planned on being more hands-on, and you were ok with that. "You make a good point. Give me a second." You stepped out of the room and called the Jim Nill, the general manager. You weren't sure he was the man to go to, but you knew he'd be there in the building at least and could possibly offer a solution. It was a short phone call, as you expressed (Y/N)'s concerns. Jim was happy to help and said that he'd get someone on moving her downstairs to one of the spare rooms that housed equipment at the moment. "All set. They're going to move you down next to the training room. It might take a few days to get in the stuff you want, but if you make a list, we'll leave it at the front desk and make sure it gets taken care of."

"Thank you, Jamie. I really appreciate you doing that."

Her praise was like music to your ears, you could remember the days when you'd have a good game and she would go on and on about how well you played and you'd literally soak up every word that came out of her mouth. "No problem, guess we should head down there then." You showed her the room, which she seemed pleased with, then took her over to the training room. A couple of the trainers were still in there from practice, so you introduced her to them.

"I hate to be a pain in the ass but would any of you mind if I changed the set up here. I don't want to step on anyone's toes. I just see a few things that could make this more efficient."

"Sure, go ahead," Dave, the head trainer told her.

"So, see these units right here. They would work so much better if you had them in between the training tables. That way two guys can be on the machine at the same time."

"Oh, I see what you're saying." They went to move the equipment, it looked heavy so you helped as well. (Y/N) was opening up cabinets and taking things out, then moving them to other ones.

"Is the AAC," she looked over as you to confirm she'd said that right. "Setup like this as well."

"Pretty much," Dave told her.

"Could we make these changes there as well?" They seemed to be a bit annoyed, but she wasn't deterred. "Bear with me for a moment. Say Jamie has a cut to his eye that needs to be stitched." She looked at you to play the part.

"Ow my eye," your acting was horrible and they all laughed.

"When he comes into the room, we take him right to the nearest table, which is here." You sat down where she gestured. "It's obvious, he needs stitches, but the medical cabinet is all the way over on the other side of the room, and by the time we get there, look for what we need then come back we've waist two minutes of playing time and we don't even have a single stitch that we need in." She was making a lot of sense. "If we had our sterile supplies here, and then individually marked and put in like this." She rearranged the cabinet as she talked. "Then when Jame comes in with the cut. We can assess it and stitch him up in no time."

"Makes sense," Dave agreed. "I'll get to work on changing the AAC as well." He and the other trainer were done for the day and said their goodbyes before heading out.

"Hey Jame," you noticed she'd started using your nickname and you weren't upset about it. "Could you move this table over to here?"

"No problem."

"Is something wrong?"

Quite the opposite actually, you thought today was going pretty well. "Um, no why?"

"You're favoring your right shoulder. I saw you do it earlier."

"Oh, I think I just slept wrong on it or something." Well tossed and turned on it was more like it, as thoughts of her pervaded your mind.

"Sit." It was a command and one that you were not to argue with. She came up behind you then, her hands going on your shoulders, kneading and massaging your shoulders and for a moment it felt like heaven, just having her hands on you again. Then she pushed down hard on a particular spot and you winced. "Tender?"

"A bit."

She came around in front of you and stepped in between your legs. "This might hurt a little." Hurt? God, she was killing you at the moment, as her body was almost pressed intimately up against yours. You willed your growing erection to calmed down, but apparently, it had a mind of its own. She moved your arm in a weird position, then pressed down almost under your armpit but not quite. (Y/N) was right, it did hurt a tiny bit, and you grunted at the pain. "Sorry." She went back to kneading your muscles, while you caught the scent of her perfume, or maybe it was just her, either way, it intoxicated you. You closed your eyes inhaling deeply, willing your body under control. You'd give anything at that moment to just wrap her in your arms and press her lips to yours. Would her lips be as sweet as they once were? Would she kiss you back with the same abandonment as she had that first time so long ago? There were so many questions swirling in your head, and you wanted to know the answers, but it was too soon. If you attempted any of this now, you'd take the chance of losing her for good and it was not a risk you were willing to make. All too soon for your liking, she stepped back. "Does that feel any better?"

You rotated your shoulder and neck a few times. "Yeah, it actually feels amazing."

"Excellent," a huge satisfied grin on her face, which only made you smile back. You felt it then, a shift in the air, almost as if her heart was giving way to you in some small manner. Maybe it was just you, but there was something in the way that her eyes held yours, the way they softened as she gazed at you. You remembered that look, had only dreamt of seeing it in her eyes again but now here you were, afraid to blink for if you did it would break the spell. Her watch chimed then, like the clock striking midnight in a fairytale. "I really should be going," she told you, and just like Cinderella, she was running away only this time you knew she wouldn't get far. "So, Wednesday, then right?"

"Yeah, three o'clock."

"Ok, I'll see you then."

"Hey (Y/NN)," she turned back around. "Since we're heading downtown, why don't I just drive us both down. I'll show you the shortcut." She seemed to mull that over a bit.

"Sounds good." She made a move to leave again, only this time, she stopped herself. "Thank you for today Jame. I really appreciate you showing me around."

She called you Jame again, another step in the right direction. "Anytime, (Y/NN)." You sighed happily as she walked out of the training room. You were one step closer to winning the girl of your dreams back.

READER'S POV

What was wrong with you? You seriously needed to get ahold of yourself. That moment in the training room could not happen again. For god's sake, your watch had to chime to tell you to breathe, because you were pretty sure you'd stopped. There had been something in Jamie's eyes. Those big beautiful brown ones of his, that you could spend hours looking into. People always said the eyes were like windows into your soul, and if that were true you saw your own reflected in Jamie's. The shocking thing was, it didn't frighten you like it should. There was this small part of you that wanted to fall headfirst straight into him, but you couldn't. This time it wasn't just your reputation as being easy riding on the line. It would be your reputation as a doctor and a professional as well, and that was something you would not let him ruin.

You turned over yet again in what felt like the most enormous bed at the moment. You couldn't seem to get comfortable and sleep was evading you, as thoughts of Jamie filled your head. Every time you closed your eyes there he was, smiling as he took another bite of cake in his mouth, laughing when you least expected it. It was all quite maddening and thrilling at the same time. This time you sat up in bed. Grabbing your iPad, you opened your one guilty pleasure and started reading the romance novel you'd started on the plane here. You hadn't picked it up, since the day you saw Jamie. It would provide the perfect distraction from him.

You were about three chapters in when things started to turn a bit steamy, and as you read each line you found your hands wandering over your body. Your hands snuck up your shirt, wishing that it was our hero's gliding over your breasts the way he caressed the main characters. As the dialogue went on, you got more and more turned on, until you abandon the book for your own pleasure. Closing your eyes, you pictured the protagonist with his dark locks, kissing his way down your body. Your hands would thread into his hair, as he kissed above your panty line, before slowly shimming them down your legs. It was almost as if you could feel his warm breath against your thigh making you shiver. You let your fingers mimic his, as they slid between your folds, your pussy already wet with desire for him. He softly kisses you there then, his beard somewhat scratchy against your sensitive skin, but it was a feeling you yearned for. His long fingers would slip inside, moving in and out of you slowly at first driving you mad. Your hips flexed up, as you gave over to the fantasy, craving the faceless man's touch. You could see the muscles of his back stretch across his skin and you longed to rake your nailed down them as he thrust his cock inside you, though it was his torturous fingers driving you wild at the moment. You were close now, just teetering on the edge with the need to cum. Rubbing your clit with your other hand, you thrust your fingers in out of you in a motion that you knew would take you to the heights you sought. Only your mind told you it was his fingers, his tattooed arm, his wicked tongue that was taking you there. Eyes closing tighter, as you fully emersed yourself in the fantasy, you felt the orgasm begin to build. Your legs started to tremble and your breathing was erratic, and then it hit and you were screaming out his name. "YES…JAMIE…YES!" Your eyes flew open, at the sound of his name echoing off the bedroom walls. It was Jamie you were picturing the entire time. He was the man giving you such exquisite pleasure. The realization had you spinning and throwing the covers over your head, too bad you couldn't hide from yourself. How were you ever going to face him in a couple days?

Sleep was something that evaded you that night and the next, well not entirely you did get a few hours here and there. The only problem was Jamie seemed to creep into your dreams as well. There were ones where the two of you were laughing and joking and having the most amazing time, and ones that had you calling out his name in pleasure again as well. But the ones that got to you the most, were where he was with Caitlyn. They would be holding hands or kissing right in front of you. You'd wake up so angry that you wanted to punch something or someone, namely Caitlyn. It had you questioning why though. If you didn't have feelings for Jamie, then why were you so angry at some college girl who threw herself at him. The deeper you dug into that, the more you didn't like the answer, for it meant there was still something there between you.

Thankfully, Wednesday came and so did your teaching surgeries, which meant you had something else to think about other than Jamie Benn. It was an early morning as most days in the operating room were, so at five, you grabbed a coffee and headed to the hospital. As you suspected, Dr. Ellis had you tag along on his other three knee arthroplasties, which meant you were walking out of the OR just before noon. If you timed it right, you could grab a quick bite to eat before going over charts and then be at Jamie's before three to tour the AAC.

"I've got to say your method in that replacement was impeccable," Dr. Ellis told you as you headed down the hallway to the doctor's lounge.

"Thanks, it took a little time for me to get things right, but as I said when you take that ligament…"

"Dr. Ellis, you're needed in the ER for a consult; car versus pedestrian," the nurse told him, and immediately your heart sank. You always hated seeing these kinds of accidents come through the hospital. "It's a twelve-year-old, his leg is in bad shape. I'm not sure it can be saved."

"Dr. (Y/LN), would you join me?"

"Of course." The two of you quickened your pace as you rushed to the wounded child. "I thought you said this wasn't a trauma hospital?"

"It's not. I'm not sure how this case got here."

The moment you got to the ER, you didn't have to be directed as to where to go. Doctors and nurses rushed in and out of the room at a frenzied pace. It had honestly been a good year since you'd done any extensive trauma work, but the adrenaline came rushing back through your veins with a force of a good slap shot. When you entered the room, it was worse than you expected, you'd only seen one other case that was this bad. You rattled off a flurry of questions, to those around you, trying to assess the damage. "I think we're going to have to amputate," the chief emergency physician said.

"Only as a last resort." You looked at Dr. Ellis. "If you're willing, I'd like to try and save this child's leg, but we need to get him in the OR now."

Not even a second ticked by, before he said, "You heard her people, let's move." Everyone started rushing to get him prepped for surgery.

"I'll need your assistance," you told him as the two of you made your way back, nurses following close behind.

"Of course, anything you need."

"Oh, I need someone to call Jamie Benn." Dr. Ellis gave you a funny expression. "He was to show me around the arena today in a couple hours. I need to push that back." He nodded to the nurse who jotted down the information before the two of you went to scrub up.

The surgery was grueling, your feet hurt and your back ached from standing in the OR for over twelve hours, but it was worth it. You were able to save young Noah's leg. And while most of those that had joined you in the operating room were headed out for drinks, which they wanted you to join, you were putting back on the dress that you'd chosen this morning to wear for your tour with Jamie. Admittedly, you may have decided on it because it showed a little more cleavage than usual and that it was Jamie's favorite color, but right now you'd give anything to not have to wear it for another couple of hours as you walked around an arena trying to remember where the entrance and exit were. Though still you, glided it over your body and headed out the door.

You thought about pulling into your driveway, but decide to go straight to Jamie's instead. Your feet already hurt from standing all day, and the heels that you'd brought earlier now felt like they were twenty inches high instead of the three that they were. No point in walking extra steps from your place to his. You rang the doorbell and almost immediately Jamie answered. "You look…"

"Like hell." You finished for him as he stepped aside you let you inside his house and even through your exhaustion you realized this was the first time you were seeing the inside of his home.

"I wasn't going to say that."

"Oh, well I feel like it," you added. "But anyhow, are you ready to go?" You were standing in the entranceway taking everything in, the vaulted ceilings, the winding staircase, even the glass doors were things that you'd talked about with him when you were younger. It was almost a carbon copy of your dream home that you two talked about.

"Um…well, I kind of didn't think you'd be up for it tonight."

"Oh, thank god."

He chuckled as you sagged in relief of knowing that you wouldn't have to put another ten thousand steps in. "I have an alternative if that's alright." You had no idea what he could be thinking, but anything other than a thirty to forty-minute drive downtown would be better. Just then your stomach growled, the sound seemed to fill the room and Jamie's eyebrow shot up.

"Sorry, I haven't eaten since six this morning."

"Well, then I think you're going to like my idea. Follow me." He headed into the open concept, kitchen, and living room, which was decorated all in white. "I kind of figured you'd be hungry, so I cooked us dinner. You still like salmon, right?"

"Love it." You couldn't believe that he went to all this trouble. You could see the table set perfectly, and that he had a couple pots on the stove, which smelled divine. "This is so much better than the drive-thru I was going to beg you to go to."

"Fast food, really? Come on (Y/NN) I would've sworn you'd go for pizza at least."

"I mean well, obviously, but when you're crunched on time."

"So, does this mean you're staying for dinner?" It wasn't in your original plans, but he'd gone to all this trouble, and well, you did have to eat.

"I'd love to."

"Great, I just need to get the grill going. How about a glass of wine while we wait?" You nodded, after the day you had, wine sounded perfect. "Red or white."

"A dry white since we're having fish." His walk-in wine cellar was to die for and filled from head to toe, you couldn't help sneaking a peek behind him. "I didn't realize you were a wine drinker."

He shrugged, the movement careless and carefree. "From time to time, I enjoy a glass. It's always better to share it with someone though." God, you'd said the exact words almost a hundred times. You loved your wine, but it was almost self-indulgent to just open a bottle and drink it yourself, so you rarely did it. He chose one, then came back out to the kitchen to uncork it. "I almost hate to ask, but how did the surgery go?"

"It was long, but we ended up saving Noah's leg."

"Oh my god, that's amazing."

"Well, I don't know…"

He didn't let you finish, just scooped you up in a hug. One that literally lifted you off the ground. It took your breath away not only from the shock of it but because of the way it made you feel. There were so many times you'd completed something successful in the OR only to come home to an empty house and no one to share it with, sure you had your family to call, who were always thrilled, but this, this was different. It was someone sharing in your joy and happiness, and you could feel it in the way that he held you that he was just as excited as you were. All too soon he put you down as if he realized he'd overstepped his bounds. "Sorry," Jamie told you taking a step back, yet still wearing a huge grin. "But you freaking saved a kid's leg. Like who does that." Again, he didn't give you time to answer. "You're truly amazing, (Y/N)."

A blush rose to your cheeks at his compliments or maybe it was from the way he held you and you longed to feel his arms back around you. Either way, the room suddenly got a bit warm. "Thank you."

He poured you both a glass of wine, then lifted his. "To the most amazing doctor. Dallas is lucky to have you." You clinked your glass with his then took a sip of the crisp chardonnay.

"This is good," you sighed as you took another drink. "Would it be terribly rude of me, if I took these shoes off? My feet are killing me."

"God no, make yourself at home," he chuckled.

"What I should really do is run home and change into some sweats. If only my feet didn't hurt so bad."

"You can wear mine."

"Oh no, I couldn't." Because really, you couldn't wear his sweats, that would just be going too far.

"Please, you used to do it all the time." Ok well, he had you there. "I think you had more of my sweatshirts than I did at one point."

"Hey, I couldn't help it, they were just so….cozy." He laughed again and you found yourself joining in.

"Well, you're more than welcome to steal some. It's not like I don't have a ton from the organization. Which reminds me, I'll make sure they send you over some stuff."

"Oh, that would be nice."

"Until then just go put mine on. You know you'll be more comfortable." He was right, but it felt a little awkward and you hoped he wouldn't read into it.

"You're sure?" He gave you that look, the one that told you if you didn't get your ass into his sweats, he might kick it, and you had to laugh. "Ok, ok." It kind of felt like old times, only without all the bad stuff that happened, and god help you; you liked it.

"Upstairs go to the left. They are in my closet on the right-hand side. Bottoms are in the third drawer and the sweatshirts are hanging up. I'm going to go throw the salmon on."

He headed out to the grill, and you made your way upstairs. The bedroom had pristine white walls, like the majority of the house. A massive four-poster king-size bed was done in shades of gray; it reminded of you the bed you shared long ago once. You shook yourself, as memories of that first time with Jamie came flooding back. There was no point in dwelling on that; you told yourself as you made your way into the huge walk-in closet. It was neatly arranged and you had to wonder if it was Jamie being meticulous or if he had a housekeeper that did all this for him. A shelf on the left side caught your eye. There were photos there nestled with his colognes. A picture of when he was drafted sat there, along with one from when he won his gold medal playing for Team Canada. At that moment, you realized you'd missed so much of his life. All these major life-changing events, that had things gone differently, you would've been part of, or at least you told yourself you would've. You sighed, feeling a heaviness in your chest that you didn't want to explore at the moment.

Turning to the right, you went to grab the sweats like you were supposed to instead of digging around in Jamie's closet. You found them easily then moved down to grab a sweatshirt off the rack. You didn't really pay too much attention, just grabbed a Stars hoodie then started to head toward the bathroom to change. Again, photos caught your eye. These more personal. There was one of him with his mom and dad, that brought a smile to your face. You'd always loved his parents. Another was him with Jordie and Jenny, and still another with just him and Jenny's daughter. It was the one next to that, that made your breath hitch and your heart beat faster. It was a picture of the two of you, one of your favorites from Canada Day. You'd been out at the lake house with his family, and someone had candidly captured the two of you just staring happily into each other's eyes, a smile playing across both your faces. You remembered the moment like it was yesterday. That he would still have this picture was just….well, it was a lot to digest. You'd burned yours in a moment of anger weeks after what had happened, but Jamie, well apparently he kept his and still had it on display. What did this mean? Did he still have feelings for you? Did he still love you? Moreover, how did you feel about him now, after all this time? There were so many questions in your head, it was making you dizzy.

You rushed into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on your face. Part of you wanted to run the two houses down to your home and lock the door behind you, but that would solve nothing. So instead, you inhaled deeply, getting control of your emotions just as you would before you entered the operating room. There was nothing between you and Jamie anymore, the two of you were just…well, you were trying to be friends, that's all this was. You quickly changed into his clothes, throwing your dress across the huge soaking tub, then you plopped your hair on top of your head in a messy bun. It was only then that you looked at yourself in the mirror. It was a reflection of your teenage self, the one that loved Jamie with her whole heart, but you weren't that girl. You were older and wiser, and you were not about to let your heart get trampled on by one Jamie Benn again. Squaring your shoulders, you headed back downstairs, where you'd pretend as if you hadn't seen the picture of the two of you that set your heart aflutter.

When you entered the kitchen, Jamie's jaw dropped and you knew he was seeing that same version of your teenage self that you saw moments ago, though he recovered quickly. "You look more…comfortable."

"I am. Thanks again for letting me borrow these." You decided to not mention, how they made you look, or feel for that matter. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I've got it pretty much under control. Just prop up your feet, it'll be ready in a few."

"It smells delicious."

"Thanks."

"When did you learn how to cook? Because from what I remember, you could barely boil water." It was true, he was never that great in the kitchen, but from the aroma, his skills had definitely improved.

"Well, when you're on your own as long as I've been, you learn quick." He finished mixing, what looked like some sort of sauce before drizzling it over the asparagus that he'd broiled. "Besides, I can't burn off a large pizza the way I used. If I indulged in that every night, I'd have even more of a dad bod than I do now."

"Oh stop, you do not have a dad bod. Trust me I've seen plenty of those and you're not it." With his toned arms and legs, he seemed more in shape than when he was sixteen years old. Well at least more defined. In fact, just looking at his thighs brought all sorts of wild fantasies to your mind. Oh my god, you needed to stop thinking of Jamie like this or there was going to be another sleepless night in your future.

"Thanks," he answered back to your compliment. "Though I will never live down the nickname Chubbs."

You laughed, like full-on belly laugh. "Oh my god, tell me that did not follow you around."

"With Jordie on the same team," he said while rolling his eyes and joining in your laughter. "Of course, it did. It's fine though, actually, it'd be weird if people didn't call me that."

"I'll have to remember that, Chubbs." He raised his eyebrow at you before stepping out to grab the salmon. This really was nice, the two of you just laughing and joking, maybe you could be friends after all.

"Your dinner, madam," he said as he placed what looked like something out of a five-star restaurant in front of you, before sitting down in the chair beside you.

"Wow, this looks amazing."

"Well, it's not the celebration dinner you deserve for saving a kid's leg, but it will have to do." He raised his glass again towards you. "To an amazing doctor." He needed to stop making these toasts to you, as they made you blush every time.

The conversation at dinner flowed easily, like two old friends who hadn't seen each other in ages, instead of two exes. You reminisced about old times and caught up on gossip from back home. It was all really refreshing, and you realized that you'd worried about moving to Dallas for no reason at all. You helped him clean up the dishes, then you both moved into the living room to finish up the bottle of wine. "I was thinking," Jamie told you. "I drew out the AAC a bit, that way if you're schedule gets too packed, you'd have somewhat of a map to get you around."

There he went again, being all kind and sweet. A complete contrast to the man that you'd hated for the past fourteen years. "That's really nice of you. Let's have a look." He laid it out on the table and started to explain what parking garage to use and where that entrance would put you once you were inside. He was about midway through when the knot in your neck from surgery today, decided to stiffen a bit. You tilted your head to the right, then to the left; in an attempt to work it out.

"Little stiff?"

"Yeah, sometimes long hours in the OR, make my neck not want to hold my head up anymore."

He chuckled then moved back against the side of the couch so that he could rub your shoulders. "Here let me."

"You know, I'm supposed to be the one helping you out, not the other way around."

"Yeah, well humor me." You turned, giving him your back. His hands were gentle as they kneaded the muscles there and you had to admit it felt really good. You could feel yourself relaxing back against him. "Scoot up for a second." You did as he asked and then he swung his one leg up so that you were now seated in between his legs, then he went back to working on your muscles. "Better?"

"Mmm," you sighed out and let your eyes drift shut. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of you the way that Jamie had tonight; cooking you dinner first and now this. He gently nudged you back against him, as your body grew heavy. Slowly, you drifted off to sleep. What you didn't know, was how Jamie settled you fully against his body, then grabbed the blanket that was strewn across the back of the couch to cover you up. Nor did you know how he pressed a kiss to your head, as his arms slid around your waist. He knew that he should probably wake you up, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to hold you in his arms even if it was for just a little bit. Jamie told himself that he'd just lay with you here for a little bit, let you rest for just a few minutes, but what he didn't plan on was falling asleep with you.

You weren't sure what woke you, maybe it was the light snoring in your ear, but you found it hard to rouse yourself out of slumber. You were just too comfortable, too cozy, too content, to want to wake up. There was just this safe and secure feeling that you had that just kept lulling you back to sleep. But slowly, you came alive. You blinked a few times, trying to figure out where you were. This wasn't anything new, when you were an intern, you'd wake up all over the hospital depending upon where you fell asleep, and moving to Dallas you still weren't used to your new home, but nothing here looked at all familiar. It was then that you noticed, someone's arms around your midsection, and that you were sleeping on said person's chest. A light bulb went off in your head, and you realized that person was Jamie. Obviously, you'd fallen asleep at some point, you just didn't know why Jamie hadn't woken you up. Instead, he chose to fall asleep as well.

You should be in a panic, but for some reason, your not. It just all feels so…right. Only it shouldn't feel that way at all. You shouldn't want his arms wrapped around you like they are, and you shouldn't like the gentle rise and fall of his chest as you lay against him, and you definitely shouldn't have your fingers interlaced with his, but you do. You actually could stay like this…well if you're being honest…forever, and that scares the living hell out of you. It's then you decide you have to get out there and you start to untangle your limbs from him. The movement waking Jamie. "Mmhmm," he hums sleepily and for some reason, your heart flutters at the sound. His hands tighten around your waist and you don't cringe like you should, but if you stay here any longer, you don't know what will happen.

"Jamie," you whisper. "Jame."

His eyes peek open as you turn and look at him. There's a slow smile that comes to his lips, that just sends heat to your core. Fuck, you need to get out of here. Then realization dawns on him, "Oh shit, I must have fallen asleep." He's scrambling now and so are you. "I'm sorry….I only meant to let you sleep for a bit." Oh, so he didn't mean to hold you all night and make you feel cherished? Why does your heart sink at that knowledge?

"It's ok, but I should really be going." You're a little stiff as you get up off the couch and look around the kitchen for your purse, noticing that it's five in the morning. "I need to get ready for rounds at the hospital."

His hands go to the back of his neck, then comes around the rake down the front of his face. "I'm really sorry…"

"Jamie, it's fine. I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have fallen asleep on you like that." You slip back into your heels then head towards the front door. "Thank you again for dinner."

"Anytime," he mumbles and there's this look of confusion on his face. You can't decide if it's about waking up with you in his arms or if he's still not fully awake yet, but you're not going to ask, as you open the door and slip out. "Hey (Y/NN)." You turn back around the minute you hear his voice. "I'll call you," he tells you, and damnit if your heart isn't beating faster again, like your fifteen and the prospect of this hot hockey player calling you is just doing weird things to your insides that medical science can't explain. "About rescheduling the tour."

"Right, the tour," you muttered and suddenly, it's not as romantic as it all seemed a moment ago. "Yeah, we definitely need to do that. Thanks again." You shut the car door so fast and drive the two houses down, which looks completely stupid, as Jamie stands on his front porch watching you, making sure you get inside ok.

What the hell just happened? It's the only question you can think of as you drag yourself up to the ensuite in your bedroom, so you can wash your face. You grab a cloth and turn the water on, your mind trying to digest the last ten minutes. You just spent the night with Jamie Benn, and you're not mad about it. You're not mad about it at all and that's frightening. A week ago, you didn't want to be in the same room with him for five minutes. Now, you were laughing over dinner and falling asleep in his arms. Jesus, what were you thinking? You look up at yourself in the mirror and all you can see is his damn hoodie and sweats on you. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but instead, all you can do is smell him. He's on your clothes, well of course he is, they're his, you idiot. You swear when you pull your hair all the way down from its even messier bun that your hair smells of him too. And when you close your eyes you can feel him; his arms wrapped around you holding you close, and damn if you don't want that again.

"NO," you yell out to yourself in the mirror. "No, no, no." He's not good for you. He'll break your heart. Your mind knows all these things and still, your heart is trying to open the door and let him in. This can't happen, you need a plan. No, what you need is someone to remind you how he broke your heart.

You pick up your phone and dial your best friend, Emma. She'd been with you through the whole breakup with Jamie and remained by your side through every dumb mistake you made afterward. Emma had even moved to the east coast, when you went to John Hopkins, though she'd met the love of her life there and was now engaged. You knew it was early, but you also knew that your best friend would answer the phone if it was you who was calling. "Hello, sunshine," she answered all cheerful and it only put you in a fouler mood.

"Really? How are you this happy in the morning?"

"You know I've always been a morning person. Now, please tell me what happened with Jamie."

"How do you know something happened with him?" It was truly baffling how she could just read you like an open book.

"Why else would you call me at six-thirty in the morning? Tell me he's not breaking your heart already?"

"It's worse." You pause trying to figure out the best way to tell her. "I think I'm falling for him again."

"Get out!" She shouted at you through the telephone. "It's been like what ten days?"

"God, when you put it like that, it sounds insane."

"It's not insane (Y/N)." At least Emma didn't think you were crazy for possibly falling back in love with Jamie. "You two have history, like big-time history, and that just doesn't go away overnight. The question is what do you want to do about it?"

"I don't know, Em." It was true, you were so conflicted about whether you should just shut Jamie out completely, or open your heart just one more time. You were hoping your best friend could shed some light on the situation.

"Well, then I think I have your solution." You waited patiently for her to tell you what it was. "You know what they say, in order to get over someone, you need to get under someone." Had you heard her right, did she really just tell you to go out and have sex with someone random?

#Jamie Benn #Jamie Benn imagine #Jamie Benn imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #Dallas stars #Dallas stars imagines #Dallas stars imagine

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pizzahutchan124 · 3 years ago

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Do you see this pic? I Took it on the 3rd of April to show that I've been saving money since last year. I only recently cashed that in two weeks from today. It came out to $106 subtotal.

I would've updated abour this earlier but.... truth be told I'm dipping my toes into plenty of lakes, rivers, ponds and oceans with seemingly little to show for it at the moment. I'm running an art blog now, and I'm building both a financial and artistic portfolio. I'm getting tons of leads on job opportunities in both social services and backstage tech work, which means I gotta revise my resume to fit the position titles as well as follow up with the respective hiring staff. My extended family is always checking up on me, making sure me and the folks I live with are ok (they're all sweet like that.) Ultimately I would like to craft and create more art, whether that be in writing, yarn crafting, sewing, woodworking or experimenting with traditional and digital drawing. Of course, that means I have to renovate my space so that it flows with a creative and productive atmosphere while maintaining a cozy yet friendly living environment for me and my loved ones.

You dunno what that means? Yea, neither do I. I'm figuring it out as I go, but it gets hard when the people closest to you want results NOW. NOW NOW NOW. Otherwise you're a fookin lazy good-fer-nothing, haha. I got so many irons on the fire right now it's not even funny....

On top of all of that, I dont know what to do with this blog. Ive been doing research here & there and the people in the big leagues say that you gotta stick with ONE topic and/or interest so that not only your blog remains consistent, but your followers know what to expect from you thus remaining engaged on your platform. That's some quality advice for growing a wider audience, but heres the thing- I can't be asked to just dwindle down my posts towards a single topic. Maybe that worked for my ancestors in the past but I'm lucky enough to live in a First world country that encourages free thinking provided that it doesnt limit anyone elses liberties. This is a space where I can explore multiple options, opinions, pathways and idealogies, even the shitty ones if I were as bold as I used to be. In short .....

I AM A MULTI-FACETED HUMAN BEEEEEEEAN.

I used to be a self proclaimed potato; however, things change with time. So do people- we become remixes of what we used to be. Sometimes we become better people for it. Sometimes we don't. And that's ok, so long as we're honest with ourselves about what we're doing to hinder our progress in this lifetime. I think I'm making strides in being more reflective and introspective in that aspect.

Im not sure what this means for the long term future of this blog. I originally made this during a time in my life when the internet was filled with opportunity and promises of a better life. Since then I've become more aware of how the world works and thereby more cynical to the beliefs I once held as a 16 y/o 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓪𝓼𝓽. I'll just continue to post things that are informative to my needs and likes and hope that it'll reach the people it's meant for. Unfortunately that means I gotta work on trimming the fat on this blog. I've made side blogs for this reason, but havent gotten around to utilizing them. That's gonna be a big project for me at some point down the line. Only God knows when I'll get around to it.

Here they are if you wanna browse through them-

a Blog filled with master posts, references and tutorials on stuff

another blog filled with fanart from some amazing folks

Based on the actions I'm currently taking, I can see myself absolutely vibing within the next 5 years.

You can expect me to reblog posts on my main fandoms (mainly yugioh, pokémon and hazbin hotel/helluva boss), commentary on our society at large (uh oh, OPINIONS 😱 so scary), theories and lore based on the fandom(s) I'm in. Ngl I also become enamored with 2d characters from time to time so perhaps I'll get around to making character analysis posts. That's a big MAYBE tho. I'll also post about Cooking, economics, Psychology, personality archetypes and certain spiritual concepts like feng shui, the different kinds of astrology, mythos from different religions (Buddhism, Catholicism, etc), productivity and/or life hacks. I'm also a slut for tropes, Hence the #Tropes tag I made 😁

And finally, I will be making more original content irregularly from when "the motivation strikes me" to "when I feel my ideas/drawing/writings/musings aren't complete hot dog water."

See you in the next post maybe

#Sundae Stories #creative problems #rant #vent #Portfolio #Investment #renovations #Fandom #tutorials #References #life #time management #Scheduling #Writing problems #Artist problems

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archerofthemists · 5 years ago

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Althea and Tyrian oneshot.

ANGST. Blood, gore. Near death experiences. Love realization. You have been warned.

I'll use you as a warning sign

That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

In the time since she had joined them, Althea and Tyrian had become one of the most lethal teams in Remnant. With Salem's order, Tyrian had trained Althea in better hand to hand combat, which she was grateful for. Her bow, Death's Sigh was all but useless when she was close to an opponent. She became skilled with a set of curved knives and she made some alterations to her main weapon.

The task should have been simple and easy. It would be four of them, Tyrian, Althea, Watts and Hazel. Tyrian and Althea after one target, Watts and Hazel after another in another part of the city. Grimm had come in acting as a perfect distraction. The deaths of their important targets would spread discourse through the people and bring even more Grimm. So easy…

And yet…

Althea's aura was low and Tyrian's was almost broken, not that he stopped fighting. They had been unexpectedly outnumbered and the toughest of the group had a Semblance that blocked all emotions. Althea had to admit, it was a nice Semblance when fighting. No one could get under your skin with banter and it could let you do certain things without flinching.

But considering it made her own Semblance useless against him, it really pissed her off.

She and Tyrian had taken down most of the team, who lay dead or badly injured. The only two left standing were their target and her emotionless teammate.

Althea had lost her daggers while taking down the other three opponents and she had no opportunity to retrieve them so she'd fallen back on her bow despite the closeness of her enemies.

Althea drew back her bowstring and turned to aim it at their original target, who was swinging her dust battle axe, ready for the arrow.

Tyrian had turned to attack the emotion blocking hunter, stinger whipping around ready to bury itself in his opponent's chest.

She heard the sound of a weapon breaking through the air just a second before she felt the impact from behind. The pain was immediate, spreading through Althea's side.

She never got the chance to release her arrow. Althea looked down to see the end of a jagged spear protruding from her lower abdomen. Blood seeped through her clothing and trickled down her leg as she dropped her bow.

Her mind went to Tyrian, and she glanced over her shoulder and felt her stomach clench.

The spear belonged to the emotionless behemoth. He had thrown it before Tyrian leapt to attack him.

The spear had pierced Tyrian's side before it had hit Althea through the back. Now here they stood, a long, jagged glass spear buried in them both.

Althea knew heavy internal damage had been done and she hardly felt it as she fell to the ground, too weak to stand her ground.

Her ears hardly register the sound of her enemies fleeting footsteps and the sound of Grimm attacking the city.

What did cut through the haze were Tyrian's soft whimpers of pain and wheezing.

Althea managed to turn over to face him, it hurt like something otherworldly but she did it.

"Tyr…" she reached out and took his free hand. The other was pressed against his deep and ragged wound.

And I'll use you as a focal point

So I don't lose sight of what I want

Tyrian barely felt the wound as he lay there in shock. Althea's gentle hand made him flinch before he looked to her.

"We...failed…" he choked out. "We failed...our Queen…"

"I know...I know…" Althea gasps out. The pain was excruciating and she could hardly think. "We did...the best...we could…"

"Not enough...we weren't good enough…" Tyrian whimpers. His wound hadn't neared any internal organs but the flesh wound was deep and he was losing blood.

Althea managed to crawl to him, closing the distance completely and gently taking Tyrian's cheek in her bloody hand.

"Don't worry about that now...ok?" She says softly, her green eyes never leaving his golden ones, which were starting to fill with tears.

Tyrian wondered if her eyes had always been such a beautiful green…so full of life even as she lay dying beside him.

He could hear his heart thudding in his ears and he let his bloody hand leave his wound to gently rest on Althea's.

Death didn't seem so bad when you weren't dying all alone. If there was another side, maybe he would see her there…

And I've moved further than I thought I could

But I missed you more than I thought I would

"Where ARE THEY?!" Watt's and Hazel were at the rendezvous point. They needed to leave the city NOW.

They couldn't get a response over their earpieces, and they knew something had gone terribly wrong.

Watt's first instinct was to just leave the city with Hazel and get back home to Evernight Castle, but he knew there was a high risk of Salem's wrath if they did that. Returning with only half the team and not knowing if the second target had been eliminated? Unforgivable failure.

And not that Watts would admit it, but he would feel guilty leaving his teammates behind, not knowing what had become of them.

"Let's go find them." Hazel stood, looking determined.

It truly didn't take long to accomplish that. Watts and Hazel already knew what section of the city Tyrian and Althea were supposed to be in for their ambush, so it was just a question of looking in every alley and street.

It was Hazel who found them. He was sure they were already dead by the looks of them. Curled together in a large pool of their mingling blood.

"DOCTOR!"

Watts swallowed hard at the sight and he shoved his feelings aside, letting himself slip into the zone that doctors had to get into in emergency situations.

Althea was unconscious and her pulse was almost non existent. Tyrian's body jolted when Watts checked for his pulse and his eyes fluttered open a little. He groaned deeply as he felt the doctors hands probe and assess his wound which wasn't nearly as severe as Althea's. Watts worried that one of her kidneys could have been punctured.

"Hazel, do you think you can carry them both out of here?" Watts asks as he opens his medicine bag and desperately tried to get Althea stable with what he had.

"I'll carry em all the way back home if you need me to." Hazel tried to keep a poker face but eventually he had to look away from the bloody scene.

And I'll use you as a warning sign

That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

It was like floating. Floating on an ocean as the pain rose and fell with the current. Tyrian felt hands on his body, and they were hurting him, but he didn't have an ounce of strength to fight off the enemy. He was already dying so what more could they do to him?

He accepted the pain, it was a good and familiar friend to him.

Soon his head felt fuzzy, like his brain had been removed and replaced with cotton. Tyrian could hardly put a coherent thought together in his head, and that was a hard enough task when he was conscious.

He felt numb and weak but safe. He was somewhere familiar and warm.

When his eyes finally open his vision is blurry. Well, blurrier than it normally is. The only light was from the moon shining in through the window above his bed.

This isn't his room, he knows that immediately; there weren't any windows in his room.

It took Tyrian a long while to get his bearings at all.

He now could tell he was in Watts lab, in the little recovery room that sat just off where the doctor did experiments and surgeries. Tyrian had woken up in this bed plenty of times in the past, considering how often he could seriously hurt himself sometimes.

IV needles stuck out of his arms, feeding blood and fluids into his veins. Tyrian hissed softly. He could handle pain, loved it sometimes but needles always made his skin crawl. He wanted to yank them out but his limbs felt too heavy and his fingers wouldn't cooperate.

He huffs as he lets his head fall back against the pillow.

His mind was still foggy and he couldn't quite remember how he had ended up here…

The mission...his target...He remembered fighting, killing, the blood and screaming…what else?

The alley.

The ambush.

The spear.

Althea…

Tyrian suddenly felt very sobered as he forced himself into a sitting position. His side protested and he groaned, feeling the fresh bandages wrapped around his lower midsection.

His hair was unbraided, falling in oak brown waves over his shoulders and along his face.

His head swam for a moment, which he wouldn't have minded if he didn't have more important things to worry about.

He finally managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed and reached out and gripped the white dividing curtain and tore it aside.

Tyrian released a breath he hadn't realized he'd even been holding.

There, in the other hospital bed, Althea was hooked up to even more IVs and machines than Tyrian. She wore the same bandages across her middle and her breathing was ragged, a tube across her nose forced oxygen into her lungs.

Tyrian let his body relax as he sat on the edge of his bed and he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

He wasn't sure how he'd gotten back or how Watt's had managed to save them both. Even if Tyrian's wound hadn't been as bad, he knew he'd lost a lot of blood. But honestly Tyrian didn't care. They were both alive and nothing else mattered.

However as Tyrian sat there, watching Althea's chest rise and fall, he began to realize that they had failed the mission given by their Goddess. His heart began to pound as he wondered what punishment they may face. Merely disappointing her was bad enough.

He realized that he was more worried about Althea - her condition and her possible punishment- more than anything. But why? Why was Tyrain so worried anyway? Why had he been so frantic to know if she was alive?

Why was watching her bleed to death beside him one of the most heart wrenching things he'd witnessed?

Was this love? Actual love he was feeling? No of course not, Tyrian knew what love felt like. He loved his Goddess. Loved causing chaos and killing.

So why did this feel so much different? So strong, that his chest ached?

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me

Talk some sense to me

He swallowed the lump in his throat and he realized tears had begun to spill down his cheeks. He wipes them away with the back of his hand and chokes softly. No this couldn't be right…

But he looks back at her, looking so weak and vulnerable.

He cautiously slipped out of bed, his tail peeking out under the hem of the stiff hospital gown he'd been dressed in and he managed to crawl into Althea's bed, gently, not wanting to wake her.

As Tyrian settled down close to her all he could picture was her dying next to him. How calm she had been, even calming him.

He gently touched his bandage and mused at how they'd have complementary scars.

Althea whimpered in her sleep and Tyrian slipped his arms around her as tight as he dared and let her head lay on his chest. Althea murmured softly and Tyrian heard his name on her lips.

"I'm here…" he whispered against her ear. "I'm right here."

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me

Talk some sense to me

#rwby tyrian #tyrian callows #tyrian #althea lynch #althea #poison arrow #oc #myoc #rwbyoc #oneshot #angst #near death #near death experience #i found #amber run #lyrics #music #music inspiration #rwby althea

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verobatto · 6 years ago

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"Break the jar, and do it again." The slow construction of Canon Destiel

Ok people the hiatus is gone and the new chapter aired so we have now time for interesting thoughts…

This is another Destiel meta, sorry again if anyone already talked about this ideas, you can share your opinions here!

We want Destiel become canon. That's law. But how you get together two characters with such defectives inner issues? Like Cas and Dean? Are they ready to be together? I know we are just NEAR to... But we need just a little big step for that...

Before we start to break things here... I want to discuss about one of the most important tool used by Supernatural writers... And bc I like symbolic titles... I'm gonna title it like this...

Supernatural and the Phoenix Complex

Spn must be the most mortal series, and we have memes of our beloved characters's taste for dying over and over again throughout the entire series and reliving in the same season or in the next.

Like the Phoenix, they reborn from their ashes renewed. And that's the meaning from this.: "I'm giving you this so many chances to change your point of view, so you can see with new eyes."

Is the same concept with the breaking point trough lost, pain and tragedy.

Moving this idea to the slow construction of Canon Destiel, we had witnessed how they broke Cas and Dean over and over again, just to develop their characters into a renewed and healthy ones, only in this way, they'd be able to love each other in a plenty way.

So .. let's keep the concept about "breaking the defective jar, to make the jar again." A new one, a better one...

We need new Cas and new Dean, loving themselves, growing in self acceptance and learning about communication.

Ok .. now we're ready for the jam here...

... Let's brake some jars ...

1) Breaking Castiel

Well... We have this millennial Supernatural been with a very hard to break settings. A program that every angel have: Obedience, castity, submission and complete the mission. How do you break a program like that? We need a really good hacker... Maybe one with green eyes? 😹

Godstiel.

Godstiel was the result from a desperate decisions coming from Cas to protect Dean from another Apocalypse. Cas couldn't manage the immensely of having thousands of souls and the hug power corrupted him.

But this traumatic experience didn't help Cas to improve. This experience gave us a depressing Castiel for the following two seasons. So this... Just depressed him deeply.

Human!Cas

Human!Cas was the breaking point for the character. This was the improvement he needed. Being human guide him to a brand new Cas. Changing his perspective about humanity and make him fell more in love with it 😉 if you know what I mean. This was the remarkable, tragic, but blessed situation that brought him to the bottom of himself. Yes. He was broken but still learning and growing. This was good for the character.

Empty!Cas and AUCastiel

Empty!Cas was another very important impulse for the character, at the beginning of the s13, where Cas talking with the Empty, was like "looking himself in the mirror" but not really, was more the meaning of it. Cas faces himself, his fears and feelings, he embraced all of that, and knowing he already was saved, he came back with his family. Closing this meaning by the end of the same season when he faces now AUCastiel, another "looking himself in the mirror" and he embraces his family, the Winchesters. Knowing AUCastiel helped Cas to reconciling with himself. And the meaning of killing that part of him, big development of the character. Cas killed all that lack of emotion, lack of fee will. Now he knows he don't regret chose Dean, humanity, and fell for it. That was huge for him, and prepared us to close his character issues. Now that he can love himself, he could freely love Dean.

But... We still have that miscommunication factor that is the last step. Aaaand the little, tiny big detail that he already confessed his love to Dean and he felt rejected? Well yes... That's bad...

Mourning!Cas

Mourning!Cas, the actual arc, came to sell the character giving him the last lesson trough pain and loose. How this Cas, whom tasted corruption, depression, redemption, humanity, reacts now facing AUMichael!Dean. Facing lost. Facing this "bond in pause" as I mentioned in my other meta, as Dean faced it in s13 with Castiel's death. Well I'm not very sure about if he is into a soldier mode? Or depressing mode? I'm gonna choose the second one... When he talks with Jack and said WE ARE GONNS FIGHT AND GET DEAN BACK AND KILL AU MICHAEL and etc, etc... He is talking with himself, and he is almost in tears... Emotional... He looks more human in his facial expressions. So yes .. Cas is being very human... He miss Dean... The bond is in pause.... Sigh... I hope he become more determined and aggressive to get Dean back... Let's wait and see... But this episode 1 Cas sounded me like... "I just wait here, then" please come back Dean. 🤷 I'm clueless...

2) Breaking Dean

Dean had always the height from being the first born, the obedient son, carrying on his shoulders with the oppressive idea of a toxic masculinity, the responsibility for being the older brother, toxic codependency and last, but not less important, fighting against his repressed feelings and desires. This whole defective jar needs a lot of breaking.

His years in Hell

Well, we have a very heavy past here, Dean have been trough so many traumatic experiences, he had suffer the lost from his father and Sam. The pressure of being responsible of his father death and not being able to save his brother, consumed him I'm despair, and that led him to make that deal with the cross road demon.

Once in hell he breaks... And when he come back, he just talked about it once with Sam. And that's it. Bc Dean .. and here is the big growing up impediment of the character... He's the Master of Disguise.

(And we have symbolism here again, bc Dean loves disguise, we had seen him in many chapters playing with it... He use disguise as an scape for fun... And for self protection. We could said he disguise his body and his feelings... And that's it)

So he pushes all those feelings again deep down his soul. This feelings and trauma doesn't' exist if I don't look at them. I'll be just fine!

So Hell was a traumatic experience, but it didn't improve the character for good. He remains as constipated emotionally as when he started. So... Not good.

Purgatory

I had already talked about how Dean facing his pure and true feelings in this place. This traumatic experience was positive for the character, bc how I said before, in Purgatory Dean realizes that he is in love with Cas when in his soul remains just what was pure in him (without others humans necessities). Maybe he wouldn't use the 'L' word here, he used the "Need" word as a love confession, then he felt rejected by Cas and decided locking his feelings again, but yes... Now he knows.

Yes... Season 8 was good... 😏

The mark of Cain and Demon!Dean

This was very traumatic for Dean and for us! Dean become a monster. Literally. He hit bottom here... A very good breaking point! But again... He continued doing the same "put down the feelings, and everything will be just fine".

The only good thing here was this inner realization...

This is what Dean learns going through that traumatic experience.

Cas showed him that he knew him very well, and even so, he accepted him. That was scary for Dean. That's a feeling he wasn't used to manage.

Something is growing up slowly in his mind, the idea of sharing his life with someone else...

Gif from @veryamooseing blog

I like that seed that was planted and become to release a little bud...

And this idea is settled when Dean felt he was about to change and die. He was a monster that was about to kill his own brother. When he become in what he hated and hunted all his life, he breaks again and in that huge situation, he become to reorder his priorities. Love, family, retirement? Settled down with a hunter? Building Dean' cave and watch movies with Cas?

Mourning!Dean

Dabb's era brought us a recurring fact: Dean goes crazy when Cas isn't in the bunker or don't answer the phone.

We thought wen Cas come back Dean would be able to recognize his feelings for him and maybe... Tell him??? Or change a little about it? But no. What we get after all this mourning was again, the pushing down emotions and more fear. Yes... A disaster! Dean keeps locked into this emotional prison and he can't get out himself for it. He doesn't advance. He is stuck. And now that he's afraid of loosing people he loves (Castiel) and now that he realizes he's in love with Cas... Well more and more fear... Sigh...

Michael!Dean

Well this is so interesting plot and opportunity for Dean's character development. We have AUMichael talking with two people about LOVE, PEACE, PURITY AND SAVE THE WORLD. If this isn not a mirror for Empty!Cas then idk what it is... And yes .. this is AUMichael talking indirectly to Dean...

"You think you want peace? But you bring war all the time with your actions... You think you want Love? But you lock it down and ignore it. You think you have purity in your heart? But you are just lies. You think you save the world? But you can't even save you from your own hate for yourself.

Yes, this is a huge opportunity for Dean to begin once for all to grow up in self acceptance and in love for himself, facing as it was in Purgatory, the purity that remains in his heart and soul. He can reach peace enjoying retirement with Cas and Sam. He can love Cas romantically and he can love his family in a healthy way.

This is the new Dean we are expecting to find through S14. This is the kind of breaking point, phoenix complex, new and improved jar, we were waiting for Dean. Let's see what happens.

So slow, slow, slowly but with sure steps we hope the construction of Destiel Canon wait for us at the end of this journey.

Sorry... This is so large!! Did you really read this mess? I really sorry... But if you did, please feel free to discuss.

I'm tagging for debate...

@magnificent-winged-beast @sactownbrowns3 @lovemesomecas94 @naruhearts @thedogsled @dimples-of-discontent @lykanyouko @mrsaquaman187 @evvvissticante @agusvedder @navajolovesdestiel @destielhoneybee @castiellover20

And everyone who want to discuss!

#my meta #break point #repetitive death #phoenix complex #characters's development #destiel canon #canon destiel #destiel meta #castiel #dean winchester #dabb's circular narrative #dabb's era #mirrors #emotional prison #slow construction of destiel canon

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