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dailyaudiobiblechronological · 1 year ago

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5/25/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription

1 Chronicles 23-25

Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological, I'm Jill. Today's the 25th day of May. So good to be here with you. We're, I guess a little over the middle of the week. Yesterday would have been smack dab in the middle of the week. Either way, so good to be here with you. I'm so glad that you're here. I am honored to be part of this community with you. And man, what a good thing we're doing, just allowing this time to center ourselves and either start or midday or end your day being in the word of God and just really allowing the scriptures to align us, to speak to us, to maybe shift some things that are out of place back into place. Sort of like a daily spiritual chiropractic adjustment, if you will. And you know what? I never thought about that parallel, but it's a good adjustment. But sometimes when you're out of alignment for so long, it hurts or it's a little uncomfortable being realigned because you've been out of alignment for so long. And so we'll just stop and take a deep breath, just hold it just one more second and let it go. It always helps before you get adjusted. Take a deep breath. And we'll just give God permission to come and align whatever is out of alignment today through his word, through his Holy Spirit, through conviction, which is so different than condemnation, and through his loving kindness. Today we're reading First Chronicles, chapters 23, 24 and 25. And this week we're continuing the Voice translation. First Chronicles, Chapter 23. Prayer

Father, thank you for your word today. Thank you for the people that we look back over our lives, that made a way for us to be where we are today. I thank you that you redeem everything we allow you to in our life and you use people in our lives to be the voice of wisdom, the voice of counsel, the voice of healing, that some of these people changed the entire trajectory of our lives. I thank you for women in my life like Stacey Eldridge, who pointed me to a healing in a different way that changed the trajectory of my life, that allowed me to be able to look at my past without the shame without the guilt that had crippled me for so many years and for her obedience, who walked me into healing and freedom in a way, I would never be the same again. And as we listen to David read back the lineage, the people and as we hear him look ahead and call forth the people to his future to build something that he would never see the ending to, may we be challenged to what we will be willing to be a part of, to help build something to be healing for someone else, something that we may never see the end product of, but that we could be used to be a part of, something significant for the kingdom of God in somebody else's life. I thank you for this time and I thank you for a word and how it has spoke to our hearts. We love you, we praise you, we worship you, we pray this now in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, amen. Announcements

Daily Audio Bible. That's homebase. Check it out if you've not. That's the website and that is also the free app if you have not downloaded it. If you'd like to take a look around, we welcome you to check out the resources and check out the store where there are products specifically designed to enhance your journey through the Bible. If you love coffee, we've got great coffee. If you love tea, we've got great tea. You can even get on a subscription where it is delivered fresh to your door. As much or as little as you would like. All of that is available in the store. Maybe you like the background music, you just want it for quiet contemplation. That's available for you there as well. If you'd like to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, we thank you so much for your partnership. Truly could not do this without you. I hope you don't get tired of hearing that because it is absolutely the truth. We could not do this without you and we are grateful that we do not have to. If you're giving by mail DAB PO Box 1996 Spring Hill, Tennessee, 37174. Or if you're utilizing your mobile device, you can hit the Give icon up at the top right hand corner of your app. And lastly, look for the Give icon on the website if you need prayer. If you'd like to pray for someone that's previously called in several different ways for you to do so 800 583-2164, or once again utilizing that app, hit the Red circle button. It's located up the top right hand corner of your mobile device. You do have 2 minutes on the prayer line and once you are finished, hit Send, turn the wheel over to Chronological and it will get to the right place. Lastly, please make sure that you are speaking clearly and concisely near your mobile device that will help us greatly. Thank you so much. We're going to turn the page together tomorrow as this week is a winding down. I look forward to it every day. Truly what a joy it is to be here on this journey with all of you. I'm Jill. Until tomorrow, love one another. Community Prayer Line

Good morning, DAB Community. This is Red Wolf. It's a bit of an interesting name. I know it's. I'm Native American, so that's my Native American name. Anyways, yeah, I've been listening to this for a while now and I really enjoy it and I really appreciate just the whole set up Jill and China and just the good job they do with the reading and the devotional sort of comments they make afterward. I really appreciate that. I thought I'd call in this morning. I just would appreciate you all's prayers. Our family is not in a good spot. I live with my parents, and, yeah, their relationship is just getting worse and worse, and I'm not really sure what to do with that. My goal is to try to help them out as much as I can and support them in the situation without being brought down mentally myself. So I would appreciate your prayers with that. Thank you. Hi, Cassidy in Kansas. I would like to say thank you very much from me. This is one beloved daughter. I'm a little behind, as you probably can tell in my readings. I'm listening every day as much as I can, but like I said, I'm having a little trouble the end of last year, beginning of this year with some technical issues, with the app not working properly and just whether I wasn't feeling good or didn't have time. And now I'm working and stuff. So I'm still at the end of March here in my readings, but I will hopefully get caught up soon. But the one I just listened to today, March 27, Cassidy, you called in Cassidy from Kansas and prayed the most wonderful, beautiful prayer for me, encouraging me, remind me I'm loved and I'm seen and all the wonderful things you said, and it was just beautiful. And I just wanted to call in specifically to you for that prayer and everyone who prayed for me and continues to pray for me and even those who just hurt me. And I just want to say thank you. It means so very much, and I love you, too, and I just pray for you as well. Thank you again. Love you. Big hugs to you all, especially today Jesse bye bye. Hi, guys. It's Kate calling in for Christine. Father, I lift up Christine to you. I thank you that she's become a member of the DABC family and that the Bible has helped her so much first thing in the morning and through her days to not crumble. I'm sorry to hear her divorce. Father, you ain't divorced. And there's a million reasons why. And I just pray that you would strengthen Christine through your word as you have been and through prayer and hopefully meeting with a body of believers to come around, serve and be Jesus with skin on. Christine hanging there. Divorce is horrible, and not being near friends and family is very difficult. I have been there her and I will keep praying for you. And I just lift you up before the father who is eager to hear our prayers and petitions for you. Okay, girl. Thank you. Bye.

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dorothy-maddox · 1 year ago

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The Ultimate Free Dropshipping Tutorial - Step by Step

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References

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poisonedapples · 3 years ago

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Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids - Chapter 2

Craft Projects and Failed Bonding

Chapter Summary: Roman plots against Patton in a way he thinks is threatening.

Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Panic, anxiety, implied past abuse, food mentions, and anxiety over being watched by cameras.

Word Count: 4,533

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22

Notes: Thanks to cornybird on Ao3 for helping me beta this one!

“Virgil, wake up, it’s time for breakfast!”

Roman cracked open his eyes to stare at the door. His security bar was still under the doorknob, and it sounded like Patton walked away to knock on the next kid's door, so Roman slowly lifted himself out of Virgil’s bed once the coast was clear. He hadn’t been asleep for the last two hours, so there was no point to continue lying down and risk Patton trying to get into the room to wake him up. So Roman rubbed his tired eyes to undo the security bar and put it in his backpack.

Though, speaking of his backpack…he had no idea where to put it. It wasn’t safe in Virgil’s room, but Virgil was still sleeping in Roman’s bedroom. He could take it downstairs with him, but that’s a strange thing to do during breakfast, and he didn’t want that to be the conversation opener of the day. Especially if they asked him what was inside. They weren’t allowed to know that.

Eventually, Roman settled on hiding the backpack underneath Virgil’s bed. It wasn’t the best hiding spot, but it’d work until Roman could come back and take it. He opened the door and headed downstairs, praying that he wouldn’t be the first kid to arrive.

The prayer wasn’t enough, because Roman looked around the kitchen and only saw Patton at the stove. Patton looked over at him and seemed confused, trying to hide it behind a chipper smile. “Morning, kiddo! How’d you get dressed so fast? I only knocked on your door a second ago!”

Don’t let him find out you weren’t in your room. “Oh, these are my pajamas, I haven’t gotten dressed yet. And I was already awake, so I just came right downstairs.”

Patton looked Roman up and down, and Roman shivered. “…Do you not have real pajamas, kiddo?”

“No. I like sweatpants better.”

Patton didn’t seem pleased, but he didn’t question it further. Roman sat down at the table and anxiously drummed his fingers while he waited. Eventually, Logan came downstairs fully dressed with his hair brushed, and Virgil followed not long after. His hair was a mess, and his pajamas were twisted like he just fell out of bed and rolled down the stairs to make it in time.

Patton took one look at him and almost gasped. “Virgil, did you sleep last night? You look…a bit rough, to put it lightly.”

Virgil grunted. “I had to clean.”

Patton sighed. “Kiddo, save cleaning for the morning, okay?”

Virgil shrugged, groggily making his way to the coffee machine to try and steal some Patton already made for himself. “Virgil,” Patton chastised, “No coffee. You can go back to sleep after breakfast if you want, but you’re too young for coffee.”

Logan raised his hand. “May I have some?”

“No.”

“Darn.”

“What kinda drink do you want, Roman?” Patton asked. “And don’t say coffee.”

Coffee sounded really nice, actually, but there was no use arguing. “I’ll take milk, then.”

Patton finished emptying the contents of his pan onto some plates before grabbing three cups from the cupboard and filling them up. Two had milk while one had orange juice, and he passed them to each seat at the table. He then passed everybody their plates, with scrambled eggs and a bagel with cream cheese. Roman took his fork and tasted a bite of the eggs.

Holy fuck, Roman hadn’t had something that tasty since his grandma last cooked for him. The eggs were so soft and cheesy, and Roman could barely contain his excitement for it. He put as many eggs as he could fit onto his fork and stuffed it all in his mouth.

Patton laughed when he noticed Roman’s reaction. “Taste good, kiddo?”

Roman hummed, and Patton smiled. “Good! I learned how to make them from my roommate in college, and I haven’t looked back since!”

Roman hoped that roommate taught him how to make a lot more things then, because this was heavenly. He’d finished his entire plate of eggs so fast it was concerning, forgetting all ability to savor his food. Maybe Roman could find the recipe and steal it when Patton wasn’t looking.

Until then, Roman moved on to eating his bagel while everyone else wasn’t even close to finishing breakfast. He guessed that was a good thing. If he finished before everyone else, he could run to Virgil’s room and grab his backpack without anyone noticing. Roman chewed faster at the possibility.

Once again, the table went very silent as everyone ate and Roman tried to make a swift escape. Patton was the one to break the silence this time. “So, Roman,” he said, “How about you and I go to the store today?”

Roman froze. “…Why?”

“I’m sure there’s some stuff you need. School starts again in two days, so we need to get you some school supplies, and maybe we can get some stuff to decorate your room with too!”

“Wait, school starts in two days? I thought it started in two weeks!”

Patton seemed apologetic. “In this district, the first day is this Wednesday. Usually I’d let you stay at home a little longer to get comfortable before school, but I think it’d be easier for you to start the first day when you have the chance. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you home alone for another week.”

You should leave me here alone, Roman thought. He was a little disappointed he had to go to school sooner than usual, but school was also the best excuse to leave home early and come back late. If he could get involved again in theater, he could hide out and blame his late return times on rehearsals. So maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

Patton interrupted Roman’s internal scheming. “Do you know what kinda supplies you might need, kiddo?”

Roman twirled his cup in his hand and watched the milk spin. “Binders, pencils, folders, notebooks…I only have a backpack, really.”

“We definitely need to stop by the store then! And while we’re there, we can look at all the bedroom stuff too!”

Everything in Roman made him want to decline, to tell Patton to buy him whatever and he’ll make do with what he has. His heart started to pound again, his hand gripping hard on his cup and thinking about his escape options. Then it dawned on him.

They would be going to a store. A store, full of cashiers and moms with kids and plenty of parents who might also need school supplies. If there was anywhere he could be safe while alone with Patton, it was there. And maybe if he agreed, Patton would leave him alone for a while…

“…We can go.” Roman said. Patton’s grin widened and his eyes lit up.

“Great! So, just get ready once you finish breakfast, and we can head out! Logan, you’ll be in charge while Virgil takes a nap.”

Logan nodded, and Virgil almost fell asleep on top of his plate.

Eventually, everyone finished breakfast and put their dishes away, Virgil dragging himself back upstairs and falling into bed without even closing his door. Roman carefully entered his bedroom, darting his eyes between where he hid his backpack and where Virgil was lying.

“What.” Virgil snapped, mumbling it into his pillow. Roman stopped in his tracks.

“I only need to grab my bag, then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Fuggin’ take it.” Virgil snapped.

Roman grabbed his backpack and scurried out of there, closing the door behind him. It uneased Roman to try to sleep with the door open, so he assumed someone as secluded as Virgil might be the same. It was a little way to show his gratitude for last night.

Roman walked back to his own bedroom after grabbing his backpack. However, once Roman opened the door, he finally understood what Virgil meant by “cleaning”.

The mess Roman made last night was completely gone. The bed was made, the hangers were placed back in the closet, the lightbulb was back in the lamp and the nightstand had been set back up. It was almost like last night was a bad dream that never happened, Roman’s only evidence that it had being the fact that he woke up in Virgil’s room that morning. He looked around the room again to process the change, when he noticed a piece of paper on the nightstand.

Roman picked up the piece of paper and unraveled it.

There’s no cameras in here, I checked. I also fixed your mental breakdown for you. You owe me one.

Virgil

Roman looked around the room, holding the paper tight to his chest as he examined every corner. There wasn’t a single camera in here? Not one? No, no that wasn’t possible. The camera was around here somewhere. Roman knew it.

He looked around again, three times, looking under objects and in the closet, feeling the pit in his stomach grow when all his searches came back futile. He knew it was here somewhere, and he refused to let Patton win. Roman would find it.

He’d just…have to find some other place to sleep until then.

Roman shook his head as a way to erase his thoughts. He could worry about the camera later, but for now, he needed to please Patton’s attempt at getting to know him and get out of this cursed room. Roman still wrapped a blanket around himself as he got dressed, not quite able to shake his anxiety long enough to not take precautions. He changed from his pajamas to a red shirt and baggy jeans, and ran out to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Camera or not, he’d have to find a way to pay Virgil back.

***

“Roman, what’s your favorite color?”

Roman snapped out of his distant stare to look at Patton. He was looking at a display of school binders, pausing for a moment to glance at Roman and wait for an answer. The stare was so much for Roman to process that he took a step back. “Uh…red.”

“Perfect! They’ve got lots of reds!” Patton grabbed a red binder before stopping himself with a thinking expression on his face. “Though, wait, let me check the supplies website…I don’t wanna get a wrong size, or only get one when you need multiple…”

Roman went back to staring at the floor under him. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. It seemed like a great idea at first, but now Roman was here holding himself tight and trying not to cry, feeling the exhaustion set in while his anxiety made him restless. He wanted to go home and sleep, but there was nowhere to sleep. Nowhere to hide.

He’d have to search the house for hiding spots later.

“So,” Patton eventually said, “It doesn’t say exactly, so I’ll just grab a zipper binder and one two inch just in case. If you need more, I can always stop by again and buy some. What’s your second favorite color?”

Roman swallowed to fight back the tears. “Purple.”

Patton smiled. “That’s Virgil’s favorite color! So, one red zipper binder and a purple two inch. So let’s look at the pencil cases now!” Patton caught a glimpse of Roman’s pale face and his smile dropped. “…Are you okay, kiddo?”

Roman nodded. He didn’t trust himself to talk, but it seemed like Patton didn’t trust his answer. He took a step toward Roman, and Roman took two steps back. Patton frowned. “Are you sure?”

Roman nodded again. Patton ran a hand through his hair and looked around the store. Please, let’s just get this over with already.

Patton’s head stopped as his eye caught sight of a specific aisle, and he smiled in Roman’s direction. “Say, kiddo, how about you go check out the fish? I’ll be over here getting the boring stuff if you need me!”

Roman glanced at Patton’s eyes. They were soft and forgiving, but all Roman could feel when looking at them was fear. He took this as his moment, spinning around on his heel and almost sprinting toward the fish aisle. Anywhere was better than being near Patton.

Roman looked at the walls of fish tanks with fish of all kinds of colors, watching them swim around as the filter’s bubbles reached the roof. There were some that were swimming around each other, and others that stopped in place for long periods of time. Roman held himself and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

It was more peaceful away from Patton, at least. Roman felt a little less sick and his hands weren’t shaking as badly, focusing on the fish to calm himself down. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it worked. That’s all Roman could really ask for.

He watched the fish swim around and read their species facts for a while, until he couldn’t feel tears in his eyes anymore and the nausea was tamed. Roman walked through the aisle to look at the fish tank decorations and other pet toys. He picked up a chew toy for a dog and squeaked it, awkwardly messing with the toys and trying to keep Patton in his peripheral vision. It felt odd to be standing around in a pet aisle with no plans of buying anything.

Well, Roman thought, Patton never told me I had to stay in this aisle. It was only a suggestion. I could move on to another part of the store.

Roman looked at where Patton was one more time so he could remember his spot. It seemed like he was checking the supply list on his phone and thinking hard about colored pencils, and Roman hoped he would be occupied with that for a while more. He walked out of the aisle and looked above him for ideas on where he should go next.

Bathroom, no. The bakery would be wonderful if I could buy a donut myself. Clothes, baby items, plants…wait! Roman’s eyes lit up as he read another one of the signs. Hardware!

Roman always loved searching through hardware. He was a craft person at heart, and the aisles always gave him ideas for new things to try and make. Besides, Patton told him they were going to look for decorations for his room, maybe he could get inspiration there!

Roman entered the hardware aisle and began to look around. Because this wasn’t a hardware store there wasn’t much, mostly small items like door hinges and hook sets. There was also a doorknob you could only open with a code that Roman wanted, but there was no way Patton would let him install that. But maybe he could find something else to make his room safer.

Roman passed some other items, including some lightbulbs and a security camera displaying the screen that made Roman shiver when he passed by, but eventually Roman saw it. Ideas swarmed in his head and a big grin bloomed onto his face. It was perfect!

“There you are, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the sound of Patton approaching, looking up to see him with a basket full of school supplies. Patton smiled to hide the worry in his eyes. “I noticed you left the other aisle and I didn’t know where to find you.”

Roman gripped harder onto the box he was holding. “Sorry, I got bored…but I found something I want for my room!”

“You did? What is it, kiddo?”

Roman held up the box to Patton. Patton raised an eyebrow at him. “…Curtain rods?”

“Yes! Sounds strange, I know, but I was thinking that I could make my own canopy bed with them! We could get some curtains and I could hang them up around the bed, and I could decorate the curtains to look beautiful! Please?”

Patton rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t know, kiddo…it sounds like a cool project! But you’d have to install them into the roof, and I’m not very good with a drill!”

“I can do it!” Roman begged, “I’ve installed lots of home stuff before, and I’m really good with tools! And if I mess up I promise I’ll fix any holes, or I’ll do some babysitting jobs to pay back anything that’s broken, just…please? Can I try?”

Patton seemed conflicted. He saw the desperate look in Roman’s eyes and sighed. “…You can try, kiddo. Just…don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work, okay?”

“I won’t be! Promise!” Roman grabbed three boxes of the largest curtain rods they had and tried to hold them under his arms. “Now, I just need some red curtains, and maybe some glittery star stickers, or some other craft supplies! And a hot glue gun, you can make beautiful raindrop decorations out of hot glue!”

Patton seemed like his head was spinning. “I’ll go get an actual cart for this, kiddo.”

And then, the hunt for supplies was on. Patton got a cart for Roman to pile the curtain rods on the bottom, failing to keep up with him as he ran from aisle to aisle searching for supplies for his ideas. All the curtains were too transparent for Roman’s liking, so he instead settled for a pack of red, flat sheets meant for a queen bed and a small pack of sewing supplies. Patton mentioned he had a glue gun at home, so Roman skipped that section of the crafts aisle and instead focused on some birthday decorations with crowns and stars as well as some stickers. The more Roman’s vision came into action, the more excited and bouncy he got.

With the opaque curtains, Roman thought, it doesn’t matter if he has a camera in my room or not. He won’t be able to see me sleep. And how cute, he won’t realize his mistake in letting me do this until it’s too late.

Roman was jumping on his heels at the thought. I’m a genius.

The checkout was long and the car ride was full of anticipation, but once Patton pulled into the driveway of the house, Roman opened the trunk and ran inside with all his items in tow. He didn’t even say hello as he ran past Virgil and Logan on the couch to head upstairs.

“Kiddo, do you want to organize supplies too?” Patton yelled once he entered the house.

“I will later!” Roman answered. He had work to do.

The first step was an experiment of patience. Roman took out all the flat sheets and folded them at the top, sewing the fold with a needle and red thread to make its own custom loop for the curtain rod. It was annoying and tedious, but necessary. Also a test on Roman’s skill of how fast he could hand sew.

He was almost done with the last sheet when a knock came to his door. “Who is it?” Roman asked.

“It’s lunch time, kiddo,” Patton answered, “I called you down a while ago. How about you take a break for some food?”

No. There was no time for breaks. Roman needed this to be done by tonight so he could finally get some sleep. “In a minute.”

“Roman, it’s been a while already. A little break won’t hurt.”

“I will in a minute!” It was a lie, but Roman had the door locked, so there was nothing Patton could do about it. Roman finished his final seam, so now it was onto installing the rods.

Roman was measuring where to put the hooks on the roof when another knock came to the door. Roman groaned like a spoiled brat. “I’m coming!”

“Roman, can you open the door?”

Roman froze. He just yelled at Patton, pushed his luck, now he had to open the door. Roman dropped the screw he was holding as his hands shaked. Shit, shit! “…Why?”

“I’ve got your lunch for you.”

Roman felt his throat close, but ignoring Patton would only make the situation worse. Roman dropped his hook and screws to open the door.

Patton was on the other side, smiling softly with a burrito on a plate and a glass of juice in his hands. “I had to reheat it, but maybe you can eat while you’re working.”

Roman dug his nails into his palm before taking the plate. “Thank you.”

“Can I come in?”

No. No, you can’t. You never can, ever. “…Sure.”

Roman scurried away from Patton to sit on his bed, drinking some of the juice and looking at what’s inside the burrito. Black beans, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, sour cream, onions, and green peppers. Roman took a bite and tried to calm himself by focusing on the taste.

“You like it?”

Roman nodded. “Never had this before.”

“It’s a black bean burrito. I found the recipe a few years ago, and I make them pretty often. Especially for growing kiddos.” Patton sat on the floor next to the mess Roman had laid out. “What are you doing now for your canopy bed?”

“I was gonna screw in the curtain hooks to the roof. I’ve just been sewing the sheets for now, which is the hardest part. I might have to sew them again though, since the sheets are so big I might have to cut them. Especially since I want to do two curtains on each end to make it look pretty.”

“Sounds cool! Do you need any help?”

Roman seemed to be thinking. Maybe if I satisfy him, he won’t be angry. “Do you know how to sew?”

“I know how to repair tears. That’s it.”

Roman took another bite of his burrito and jumped off the bed, picking up one of the sheets to examine the size. He jumped on his bed and held it up to the roof, seeing how far it would stretch. The sheet was much longer than his bed, so it would be perfect. “Take the sheets, measure them, and cut them in half right down the middle. Then I can show you how to do a catch stitch to hem the seam. That will save me some time.”

“You’re very good at hand stuff!” Patton complimented. A shiver went up Roman’s spine.

“…Yes.”

From then on, the environment was very tense. The only sound between either of them was the drill going through the roof and the sound of scissors cutting. When Patton finished cutting, Roman showed him how to hem the seam, but it was quiet again after that. Roman kept his distance and made sure his front was always facing Patton just in case.

“I hope you don’t mind if this is a very messy sewing job, kiddo.” Patton joked.

Roman shrugged. “You won’t be able to see it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Are you gonna decorate the sheets once you’ve hung them up?”

“Yes, it’s easier that way. And I can plan it out.”

“Any reason why you chose crowns and stars?”

Roman paused long enough to drill another hook into the roof before setting the drill down to grab another hook. “I like crowns. And stars.”

“Logan loves stars.” Patton really hated silence, apparently. “I don’t know if the other kiddos showed you their rooms, but Logan’s is covered in space stuff. It was really fun to do, actually! Though, I made Logan paint the stars onto his own wall because he kept talking about how it should be accurate constellations, and I don’t know anything about stuff like that.”

“I’ve only seen Virgil’s room.”

“Oh, well, if Logan ever invites you in, know that he did lots of work for his constellation wall!”

Roman hummed and drilled the last hook into the roof. He took a curtain rod and placed it on the two hooks near the foot of his bed. “How many of the sheets have you finished?”

“Oh, I’m still on the first one. I’m learning though!”

Roman jumped off the bed to sit on the floor next to Patton, grabbing his own needle and thread to begin hemming the seam. Once he started sewing, Patton watched him with wide eyes. “You’re doing that very fast, kiddo!”

Roman shrugged. “I’ve done it a lot.”

“What do you usually sew for?”

“Clothes. To fix rips, mostly. My mom also taught me when I was younger.”

Patton seemed taken aback by his explanation. “Did…did you enjoy that time with your mom?”

“I enjoyed all my time with her.” Roman paused. “Well. Most times.”

Patton swallowed. “Most times?”

“Her and I were really close, if that’s what you're asking.” Roman’s hands sped up as he sewed. “She would take me to movies and theaters, and she taught me how to bake as good as her.”

Patton’s voice grew serious. “Well…I’m sorry for your loss, kiddo.”

“She’s not dead.”

“I’m still sorry you lost her.” Patton shook his head and focused more intently on his sewing. “But you said you can bake?”

Roman nodded. “I bake a lot, especially cake. I know how to make red velvet cake from scratch and it is lovely.”

“We should make some tomorrow, then!”

Roman tensed. “Maybe.”

Roman finished off the hem of his side and moved to cut another sheet, hemming both of their sides once he did so. The rest of the time was quiet, with Roman purposely refusing to spark conversation and Patton processing the little information Roman gave him. By the time Patton finished one end and half of another, Roman had finished all the rest and took Patton’s to quickly finish off. Roman laid them all across the floor and opened the packs of crafts he got.

“Well, kiddo, I gotta see about making dinner now.” Patton eventually said, “Tell me how the end project turns out, ‘kay?”

Roman nodded. Finally, he’s leaving. “Close the door when you leave.”

Patton smiled and closed the door on his way out. Roman focused entirely on decorating his new curtains, placing glittery stars and plastic crowns and using the hot glue gun to make crystals draping down the curtains. He repeated a similar pattern for each one, eventually hanging two on each side of the bed so they could open and close down the middle. Once the final project was finished, and the floor of his room was scattered in materials, Roman smiled wide in awe.

“Yes! I did it! I did it!” Roman jumped up and down from excitement, flopping onto his bed and closing the curtains from every side. The curtains were a bit too long and dragged too much along the floor, but he could fix that another day. For now, he’d been at it for hours, and his bed was finally a safe space.

Roman buried his face into his pillow, feeling himself relax as the exhaustion of a whole day with no sleep and debilitating anxiety finally caught up to him. He groggily checked for any cameras on the roof, but that was the only place he had to check for a camera that could see him. He was safe.

Roman crawled under the comforter and closed his eyes. It wasn’t more than five minutes of lying there before he fell asleep, curling into himself and relaxing. Finally, he slept peacefully.

Finally.

#ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #panic #implied past abuse #past abuse #food mention #royality #prinxiety #familial royality #familial prinxiety

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years ago

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Hi. Not VMIN or Namjin related, but I would love to hear your opinion about some critics (maybe haters is a better word lol) saying how Butter's success is inorganic. They were saying how it's just army mass streaming and mass buying etc, that the BB charts are irrelevant bec of it. It's a controversial topic and apparently it was common in the music industry to have payolas too? Lol. I never knew there's politics into it. Does streaming practically mean "cheating" ? Your thoughts?

You've come to the right place because I have a lot of opinions on the topic and I'm more than willing to share my thoughts because truly, just like everybody else, I'm sick and tired of yet another whiny white man of the week coming at us with baseless accusations of ARMY "cheating" and inorganically pushing Butter because that doesn't fit with what has been the status quo so far.

The issue, though really it only is an issue because it’s BTS and ARMY, is, like you said, ARMY buying Butter via the US store offered to us by BH/Columbia. This is funded either via funding accounts that gather donations and distribute them to those (usually fellow ARMYs) willing/wanting to buy the song, or people who just, well, want to buy the song because they like it, which includes non-ARMYs, aka locals/the general public. None of that is against the rules, which I think whiny white man of the week also acknowledged, but here we are anyway.

This complaint isn’t new either, we’ve already gone over it last year with Dynamite, so it’s another cyclical piece of discourse we’re having to deal with. Here is something that Bryan Rolli, a journalist writing (among other places) for Forbes and the man behind a lot of really good articles about BTS (among them also one in defense of them about this very topic), twted recently:

And he is right, it’s unrealistic to think that even a fandom as large as ours in the US would be able to find funds they are able to spend across five weeks and ongoing in order to just make the #1 happen based on sales. There is no way, unless we have some truly generous rich people amongst us who would be wiling to spend thousands of dollars. Which we don't, as far as I’m aware. Which leaves us with one conclusion: while yes, ARMY are able to buy a good quantity of copies of Butter, it’s ridiculous to think that a song that is such a hit hasn't found its way into the heart of locals as well and that there aren’t people out in the US who just like the song and have bought it. Not because ARMY asked them to, but because they genuinely wanted to.

Besides, regardless how many copies ARMY would buy, sales aren’t the only deciding factor that goes into which song gets onto the charts, and which one will be #1.

In order to chart on Billboard Hot 100 you basically need points gathered across three major categories: Sales (physical as well as digital), Streams (this includes music streaming services as well as video streams on YT) and Airplay. There are more finer details that go into all three of these, but just knowing those basics is enough for this post.

Staying with sales, there are many ways in which you can game the system, most of them ways BH has never touched while US artists did. Have any of these critics ever proclaimed how that was breaking and manipulating the charts? Of course not. At the height of the bundles era a label could decide to bundle something as cheap as a lollipop with a song/album and the sale of that lollipop would count as song/album sale, even if you didn’t actually pay for the album/song. That used to be an awfully popular method of gaming the system, just like selling a single song on a CD for a dollar (which isn’t against the rules) knowing that physical sales weigh heavier than digital ones. Again, that’s something BH/BTS never did.

So, even if we’d have sales covered, we still need streams and airplay to get that number one. Do you know what one of the major factors was for why ON “only” made it onto #4 and never onto #1? It wasn’t the song being bad and ARMY not buying, but because it barely got any spins on US radios. And by barely I mean (if I remember right) less than ten.

More below the cut:

Years ago when BTS were not anywhere as famous in the BTS as they are now, ARMY would call radio stations across the US, send flowers and cupcakes, just to get them to play BTS. In most cases, radios laughed at them and refused to do it. Thanks to one radio DJ we even know that there used to be a group chat of radio DJs who spent their time ridiculing BTS and ARMY and discussing how regardless of what we’d do, they wouldn’t play them anyway because *inset dumb, likely ra/cist, reasons here*.

Thankfully with Dynamite and Butter being English singles, the tides have turned a little more in our favor. According to this website the wonderful BTSChartData has created, Butter has had a reach/audience of 12M when it comes to radio (I’m unsure if this is overall or just this week) with nearly 3.5k spins. This helps tremendously when it comes to BBH100 points, but it’s important to remember that really, we don’t have any real influence on radio playlisting. Labels do through something commonly known as payola. And many, and by that I mean many, do that for their artists. Notice how some songs are being played nearly every hour? And yet other things which are massive hits get barely any plays at all? As far as we know BH/Colombia has never done any of this for BTS. If they had, those spin numbers would look very differently.

At this point we could get into a whole argument how messed up it is that it took an English song for radios to play BTS while they basically refused to do so with their Korean ones, and how with radio charts labels have the ability to pay their chosen songs to be high on them, but that’s a can of worms that would take too much time and we’re all aware that it’s a thing that happens.

The last category is streaming and here it gets messy, or messier, depending on how you look at it. ARMY might be the only fandom with this degree of knowledge about streaming and how to make our streams count, how to set up playlists properly etc, and yes, we do use our knowledge to our advantage, so to speak. And yet the system still finds a way to penalize us for it by basically filtering out massive amounts of streams for apparently no reason whatsoever. While other songs and their first day streams saw a filter rate of perhaps ten, maybe twenty, percent, do you know what it looked like for Butter?

That’s quite the difference, right? And it remained at such drastic numbers for quite a while, too. Despite ARMY knowing how not to behave like bots, even though critics and antis love to present us as such. Does Spotify explain those filter rates, or even how those are decided and calculated? No. So basically ARMY is up against an invisible power that has all the tools while we have to hope we won’t get stepped on and crushed like ants.

Speaking of Spotify, a big part of how streaming numbers happen and how songs find their way in front of new audiences are playlists, specifically the ones curated by unknown Spotify staff members like Today’s Top Hits (28.8M followers) or Top 50 - Global (16M followers). Since those playlists are created by Spotify using whatever secret criteria, we have no influence onto them (other than some that depend, to a degree, on streaming numbers). Labels do through, again, payola. Labels can buy their artists top spots on the biggest playlists and thus their songs get massive streaming numbers, not because fans genuinely listen to them, but because random people listening to those playlists might have it playing in the background without them even really knowing it or being aware who the artist is or what the song is called. You know those ads you get when you’re listening to the free version of Spotify, specifically those advertising some new album or song? Even just those thirty seconds of ad time count as a stream.

While it’s true that ARMY hold streaming parties, it is also a fact that ARMY, unlike many other fandoms, really spend a lot of time genuinely listening to BTS’ music in general. And while some idiots on twt think streaming means sitting motionlessly while staring at a screen as the song is playing over and over again, most ARMY just have the music playing while they do something else, like household chores or reading or doing work. Is it cheating to enjoy your favorite artists music? To play it on Spotify or any other streaming platform? Is it cheating to watch an MV simply because you enjoy it? No, of course not.

Therefore, to answer your question, no, streaming isn’t cheating. And neither are listening/streaming parties since, chances are, even without them those participating in them would be listening to BTS anyway. Thanks to those parties they get to do it with a sense of community, talk to each other, discuss whichever song is currently playing, and have fun. Nothing inorganic about that.

Pulling up another Brian, in this case Brian Cantor who is an entertainment journalist, here’s something he said that I think is very true:

And that’s the thing, when BH set up streaming parties for a week after the release of Butter, that was seen negatively, as well as ARMY doing their own, and yet when another artist’s label did it for them, it was seen as fun way to engage with fans and to make listening to the new album a collective experience, or something like that. As long as it is Bangtan, only the negatives will count. But they (critics) forget something, as in, setting up listening parties and online stores for songs is one thing, but getting people to actually tune in and spend their coin on music are a completely different one.

And this is the thing that whiny white man of the week, chose whichever one you want, don’t understand--the fact that ARMY are a big and very active fandom. That we are organized and that, in order for BTS to chart and be known, BH/Columbia doesn’t need to use any of the cheats that US labels use, like payola. They don’t have to rely on the whims of the general public, on radio DJs, or put out tens of thousands of dollars to get proper playlisting and interest in a song. BTS releases new music and ARMY is there, we tune in, we spend our hard earned money on their music, not because some smart PR tactic tricked us into it, not because playlisting, payola, and mediaplay tricked us into it, but because we genuinely enjoy their music, because we have this one of a kind connection with Bangtan, one that US labels, and whiny white man of the week, don’t understand. And don’t really care to understand either.

Because those aren’t the norm in the US. Because in the past hit songs were decided through large sums of money and deals happening behind closed doors. Yet now ARMY and BTS are here. We see the broken pieces of the system, we shine light upon them, reveal the negatives and all the ways in which the system doesn’t work and/or isn’t fair, we’re vocal about it on social media, and whiny white man of the week, as well as label executives, don’t like it. So we are made out to be the bad guys. For genuinely enjoying our favorite artists and their music. For being willing to listen to them and to spend money on them. What scandalous behavior.

We don’t do what we do because we want to game the system, but because we want things to be more fair, for BTS to get the respect they deserve, to be listened to and given the time of day. They are called the biggest band in the world right now, so why is it so hard to believe that their song is rightfully #1? That they are simply popular, not just with ARMY but also with locals (Dynamite is the background music in the new trailer for the Clifford the Big Red Dog movie, has been used at high school graduations, and many other things showing just how big of a hit it still is almost a year later, that isn’t us, that’s locals loving the song just as much as we do), and that ARMY aren’t just silly little girls (not that there is anything wrong with being a little girl that enjoys music, of course) that scream any time someone as much as mentions BTS. We are a large and extremely diverse fandom in terms of age, gender, race, and education/profession. We see the injustice and we aren’t afraid to point it out and stand up against it.

What we are doing isn’t manipulation, isn’t inorganic or fake, and it certainly isn’t making BBH100 irrelevant or broken. If anything it shows that it already was that way before we arrived.

#BTS #answered ask #answered ask by admin 1 #BTS Butter

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Day 21: Prinxiety (pt 2)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 21: Combine two soulmate prompts. (This will make sense soon, I promise.)

It’s the sequel you’ve all been waiting for! This is the second part to day 16 (read that first!!!!!), and y’all finally get to see what happened to Virgil! Please heed the trigger warnings below.

TRIGGER/content WARNINGS!! Anxiety, food mention, crappy foster system/group homes, implied past abuse, religious guilt/negative view of religion, homophobia, conversion therapy/abuse, starvation, sneaking medication (antipsychotics/side effects), electrocution, seizure, ambulance. I’m sorry.

Word count: 3.8k

Unlike most kids in the foster system, Virgil didn’t know his birthday. He knew it was sometime in December, but that didn’t do much. Technically, birthdays weren’t really a huge thing anyways, not when the group home he rarely left was awfully underfunded, and a party came second to little things like working sinks and clothes without holes. Even still, all the other kids at least got a little cupcake and a half hearted birthday song on their special day, and his festivities were pushed onto Christmas. He didn’t get a weak excuse for a celebration, because the other kids ‘found it unfair’ that he got that and Christmas in the same month. To prevent an upheaval, the workers told him that he’d just have to be happy with what he got.

But it wasn’t fair, because some kids got Easter and a birthday, or Halloween and a birthday, or New Years and a birthday, and poor Virgil didn’t. The fact of the matter was, they plain didn’t like him. The other kids didn’t like that he got extra free time because of his anxiety, or was allowed to leave the table when they weren’t, and they especially didn’t like he was the youngest of the bunch. The youngest had the highest chance of getting adopted, it was just facts, so they had seemingly decided that if his stay here would be the shortest, it would be the most tortured.

It wasn’t the shortest stay, though. With his barrage of anxiety related issues and group-home-toughened demeanor, no foster home wanted to deal with him. He was snarky, ran away, regularly got in fights with the biological children of the parents, and was promptly labeled a problem child. Eventually, it was deemed easier for him to just stay in a group home until he outgrew the system, since he seemed set to escape every other place. Virgil tried to pretend it didn’t hurt as much as it did; it was his fault, after all. As he watched all his older tormentors grow out of a crooked system, he resigned himself to the same fate. After all, he was almost sixteen now, and he knew his chances were out. So he stayed stuck in his group home, lashing out at his caretakers and therapists, refusing to eat unless it was alone in his room (technically, three kids slept in there, but he so rarely left it, and they wanted to avoid him, it was unofficially deemed his room), and listening to music on his phone.

He’d been given the phone on his fifteenth birthday, a gift from one of his caretakers. It was the cheapest piece of crap he’d ever seen, glitched out every other minute and needed to be charged at least three times a day, but it was a phone nonetheless. Granted, he had no one to text. But he had access to a computer, a totally one hundred percent legal music downloading website, and a strong sense of determination, so he’d soon filled the phone’s entire measly storage with all the music he could cram on the thing.

That’s what he was doing on the night of December 18th, listening to his “Emo Playlist” on a pair of $4 Dollar Store earbuds, laying on his bed and finding shapes in his popcorn ceiling as the moon shone through the window. In the bunk beds across the room from him, his two other roommates were fast asleep, but he couldn’t follow suit. It was sadly normal for Virgil to have sleepless nights where no matter what, his anxious brain just wouldn’t shut off, and it just felt like one of those nights. His hands shook and his eyelids flinched every few seconds for no reason, so he turned the music just a little bit louder and tried to calm his breathing.

It was just past 1 am when his life changed forever.

He was on the fourth cycle of his playlist, eyes no more heavy than hours before and just as flinchy. It was just entering the “existential crisis” time of the night where he started questioning reality, and he was about to give in and start letting his mind drift to darker places, when a song distinctly not his began to play in the midst of a song switch.

How can you miss someone you’ve never met?

Because I need you now but I don’t know you yet,

But can you find me soon, because I’m in my head,

Yeah, I need you now but I don’t know you yet.

He froze, eyes suddenly wide open, and yanked the earbuds out of his ears. The song continued; not in his headphones, but in his head. It didn’t take an idiot to realize that it was his soulmate, responding, and as an afterthought, Virgil suddenly identified that today was probably his birthday. Both amazing revelations, but one was slightly more time sensitive.

Desperately scrolling through his playlists as the song stopped after the chorus, he tried to find a song that would be an adequate introduction to this new person. When his eyes landed on a song from his Adele phase (he didn’t talk about that time) that he hadn’t had the energy to delete yet, he simultaneously groaned and grinned. Subtly meme-y, heartfelt like the song his soulmate had played, a decent greeting. He tapped play.

Hello,

It’s me.

He hoped his soulmate had the same sense of humor of him and had actually given a laugh, since he was trying to stifle laughter behind his sleeve to avoid waking the sleeping kids. He paused after the first verse, since he didn’t really want to remember that phase of his life more than he had to, and waited for the other to play the next song. Hopefully they could work out some sort of rhythm, play songs back and forth. He for sure wouldn’t be able to sleep now.

(The next song his soulmate played was an almost atrocious obviously-musical-theatre song that almost made Virgil hit his head against the wall, so he retaliated with a favorite of his, the most ear assaulting screamo he could find on his playlist.)

The clock had just passed four in the morning when there was a small pause in the routine, before his soulmate played a children’s lullaby. It definitely wasn’t something you’d listen to in everyday life, so Virgil could only assume it was the other’s way of indicating that they had to sleep. As if I’m going to let you go that easily, Virgil smirked, opening YouTube and begging that the video he’d chosen would play without an ad.

It did, filling his crackling, cheap earbuds with the opening chorus of Baby Shark. Fight fire with fire, he decided, chuckling to himself as he turned off the song just before the ‘mommy shark’ verse. Silence filled his head and he mentally wished the other a good night, turning onto his stomach and screaming into his pillow, grinning madly.

Eight months later, their new way of life was deeply imbedded into him; getting woken up at asscrack o’clock in the morning by a worker who wanted to be there as much as he did, and either playing his morning playlist to get himself slightly more ready to face another monotonous day or waiting in silence until his soulmate woke up and played their own music. He’d begrudgingly started to even enjoy the showtunes. Everyone around the home had noticed his gradual shift in attitude, and he couldn’t help the natural smiles that pulled at his cheeks when a new song played out of nowhere. It got to the point where his therapist noticed his lifted mood, and the other kids stopped avoiding him and, unknown to Virgil, his social workers decided that he was ready to try another foster home.

That’s why, eight months later, there was a knock on his bedroom door and his main worker poked in her head, asking him to come downstairs. He’d been playing music for his soulmate, so he silently apologized and joined her at the dining room table, giving her a half hearted smile.

“Virgil, we’ve found a new home for you. A foster home that specializes in… harder to place cases. They’ve opened their doors to you, and we’re hoping to get you into a trial period there within the next week.”

At first, Virgil vehemently refused. No. He didn’t want to go back to foster homes, not after… everything he went to in the first few. The ones that hurt him, the ones that were more densely crowded than group homes, the ones that turned him into the angry shell he was before he had met a sign of a possibly happy future. He didn’t want to lose the progress he’d made.

But Bev looked so hopeful, so pleadingly at him, that he gave in after three days of denying. He said goodbye to the kids he’d unfortunately grown attached to, threw his few belongings into a black garbage bag, and got into his worker’s car for the first time in years. Just rebuckling that seatbelt caused a shudder to run up his spine.

------1 month later------

“Virgil, what are you doing? Do you have earbuds in? We’ve made it abundantly clear that you are not to have technology at the table.”

Virgil fought every urge in his body to roll his eyes, flicking his hair behind his ears to show they were empty. It had gotten long and shaggy, just reaching his jaw in the back. “No earbuds. My soulmate’s listening to music, and it’s catchy.” Frankly, he was surprised he hadn’t been caught bopping along to silence before by the stiflers.

They were nice enough, a woman and a man and their two biological children, but they were too religious for Virgil’s liking. He’d never had qualms with religion before, but he had grown tired of spending Saturdays and Sundays (his only days off from their homeschool regime) in a church, surrounded by older people singing repetitive songs and being yelled at by a guy on the pulpit. Faking being sick only worked so many times before they refused to listen to his excuses. They also insisted he go to a specialized youth group on Tuesdays, but that was easy enough to escape. He just waved by and booked it to the closest 7/11 when they left, making sure he was back at the church by the time it was over and made up some bullshit about the gathering. Jameson, the attendant at the gas station, was becoming the closest friend he’d ever had.

“Your soulmate?” One of the children asked around a bite of toast, spitting a decent amount onto Virgil’s sleeve.

“Like daddy and I, Mariam.” The woman explained briefly, not bothering to chastise her about speaking with her mouth full.

“Yeah.” Unlike most of the kids at his old group home, he wasn’t warming up to theirs. They were too spoiled, too bratty. One had even bit him in his first week here and he was still bitter about it.

“When did you connect with yours, Virgil?” The question wasn’t asked kindly, more for the sake of being polite, and he assumed if he didn’t answer in an equally polite tone, they’d probably make him paint a fence or something.

He knew they cared about his bond about as much as he did about theirs. Which was approximately none. The mom took her children’s empty plates and placed them in the sink, Virgil quickly following suit. No use losing more computer time because he didn’t clean his plate.

“Last December. I didn’t even know it was my birthday, and they started playing music out of nowhere. It was pretty cool.” He finished rinsing off his plate and was confused at the sudden stillness in the room.

“‘They’?” The mom asked, giving her husband what she must have believed to be a subtle glance.

“Uhm… yeah?” Virgil said slowly, “I’m bisexual. So I’m not sure if my partner’s a guy or a girl or… something in between. So… they?”

He stared with rising anxiety as the two parents had a silent interaction over the kitchen island, before the dad stood up. “Kids, plates in the sink and then go get ready for church. Virgil, you too.”

There was minimal whining as the younger ones did as they were asked, racing each other up the stairs. Virgil followed, slower, listening to hushed beginnings of a conversation, unable to fight the feeling that he’d just royally fucked up.

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

“Virgil, may we speak with you for a moment?”

He froze, slowly turning from where he’d been half way up the stairs. They’d just wrapped up lessons for the day (Virgil never thought he’d miss an actual school building before, but alas) and the kids had been excused, leaving just him and the parents behind. It had been almost a week since the incident, and a part of him had been hoping they’d just drop it. There wasn’t much they could do, anyways; if their religion conflicted so badly with his sexuality, the worst they would do is send him back to the home anyways. In all honesty, he kind of hoped they would. He was sick of being here, and it was better for his record if he didn’t run.

Not that it mattered much anymore. He was almost aged out of the system anyways.

He took a cautious seat back at the dining room table, which they had just cleared from classes. The mom sat back in her chair, eyeing him carefully, as the dad began to speak.

“We spoke with our pastor the other day, and we think it would be best if we put you in therapy.”

“I don’t…” He’d stopped regular therapy at the group home almost a month before coming here, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d need to go back. He definitely wasn’t happy here, but he didn’t figure a grumpy mood was enough to warrant counseling. “I don’t understand.”

“After… what you told us? About your… urges-”

“Urges.” He couldn’t help his own disgusted tone. Of course they were homophobic.

“Yes. Our pastor suggested we try conversion therapy.”

Virgil scoffed, but he couldn’t ignore the way his heart started pounding, “Right. As if you could ever get my social workers to approve that. Ward of the state, remember?” He tapped his chest a couple times.

“Fortunately, we already talked to your social worker, Virgil. We had it approved just this morning.” The man finally stopped, as if waiting for a response.

Virgil’s eyes grew wide as he looked frantically between the two of them, the woman quickly avoiding eye contact. That wasn’t normal.

“There’s no way in hell that you-”

“Profanity, Virgil!” The man barked and Virgil shrank back in his chair, impulsively ducking to avoid a fist that didn’t come. They hadn’t hit him so far, but old habits die hard. “We’ve already signed you up. Your first session is tomorrow. First thing’s first-” He stood up, reaching a hand out to a still-shaking Virgil, “Hand over your phone.”

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

His hair was short now. Shorter than he could ever remember it being. He missed his bangs, he missed the tiny boosts of confidence it gave him when the rest of his appearance disgusted him. Now there was nothing for his hands to run through. There was no style to it, just an electric razor in the hands of his silent foster mother. He should have fought it, he really should have, but he was shaking far too much to try to move.

He didn’t like hands so near his throat.

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

Surely, his social worker didn’t approve of this. The only explanation Virgil could possibly rationalize was they’d lied about the purpose of the therapy, or the method, or something. But any type of change in a foster kid's life had to go through about a million different levels to get approved, so how the hell were they getting away with this?

It wasn’t too bad. A lot of it was using religious guilt, something Virgil did not have much of, saying he was immoral and inhumane. The rest of it was just his new therapist trying to dig into his supposed ‘trauma’ that made him ‘this way’, as if there was something that caused it. They talked a lot about his old foster homes, and his therapist seemed positive something there had to be the root to everything. It made his blood boil.

It didn’t help that they still hadn’t given his phone back, and they confined him to his room when he wasn’t doing school work at the kitchen table. He could hear the way his soulmate was losing morale, the longer he didn’t respond. The songs were darker, and were few and far between. They still refused to play songs on what he’d called ‘his days’.

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

His ‘therapy’ had ended hours ago, and yet he couldn’t stop twitching. Every time he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep, it was like the electrodes were attached to him again. The images they’d shown him flashed before his eyes, of men kissing, holding hands, and were quickly followed by the sharp sting of electric shocks. He couldn’t close his eyes without flinching violently, no music to calm his nerves.

Virgil didn’t sleep that night.

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

He held to the music like an anchor, soaking in every rare song his soulmate played like a sponge. It was his only relief from the hunger pangs in his stomach, reminding him that he hadn’t been allowed to eat at all in the day leading up to another therapy session. Apparently they wanted to put him on some kind of medication, try to increase the intensity of his sessions. It was getting to the point where Virgil was tempted to pretend it was working just to make them stop.

He missed his soulmate.

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

No. He’d said no to the drugs. They wanted to put him on anti-psychotics, claiming he was severely mentally ill, and he’d downright refused. There was no way in hell he was going on anti-psychotics. Finally, after days of their demanding being met with stubbornness, they’d given in.

That had been a month ago. Maybe. Time had gotten kind of funny, like in that limbo between Christmas and New Years, or in the depths of summer break. It had been a while, for sure. They still fed him so rarely a growling stomach was more common than a full one, claiming it was part of his new therapy. He couldn’t help wonder why he was gaining weight, though. He’d been underweight for a majority of his life, thanks to a constantly overworking metabolism and genetics, along with the nasty food they served at group homes that he gladly avoided, but he was starting to fill out slightly. His ribs were barely showing.

That would be a symptom of being on antipsychotics, he knew from previous research. But he wasn’t on them, so why…?

He took another sip of his apple juice his foster mom had brought him, trying to focus on his homework. Had apple juice always tasted that bitter?

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

They’d gone too far this time, Virgil knew that much. Curse his stubbornness, his inability to just lie and go along with it. He could have just claimed the conversion therapy was working, ‘oh golly, I’m healed!’, and go on with his life, finally talk to his fucking social worker, but no. He wasn’t capable of that.

They’d shown him more pictures, shocking him more frequently, refusing to stop the session even as tears streamed down his face. It just hurt so bad. Then he remembered a shout (maybe his own?), blinding pain, and the next thing he knew, he was in his foster dad’s car. He said he’d had a seizure, but he was okay now, so they were heading home. A cup of water was forced down his throat and he was laid down in bed, commanded to rest. He was so confused, but also so tired, so he let his eyes drift shut.

Just before he lost consciousness for the second time that day, he heard a soft melody drift through his mind as his soulmate played another song. It had been so long since the last time he’d heard them play music… despite his exhaustion, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

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

The days had been a bit of a blur since his seizure. It was probably because his brain had done the human equivalent to ‘Have you tried turning it off and back on again?’, but even that was hazy in his mind. All he wanted to do was sleep, to rest, to not have to do the school work that they were still shoving down his throat. From where he was laying motionless in his bed, he watched the slowly setting sun dip below the horizon.

There was a knock at the door downstairs. Virgil flinched from the noise, triggering a series of twitches down his spine and into his limbs. People were talking downstairs. He could distinctly hear the voice of his foster parents, but the others were unfamiliar. They were getting louder, near shouting, and there were pounding footsteps echoing up the stairs and down his hallway.

He couldn’t even find the energy to be scared as his door was thrown open and a man’s voice shouted, “He’s in here!”. A flurry of people stormed into the room, the ones in the lead dressed in blue.

Clambering, people shifting to make space, a woman holding his hand. She was asking him questions as they loaded him into a stretcher and he tried his best to answer, but he was just so tired. His name was said multiple times, as well as the names of his foster parents, but it was hazy, so hazy…

“We were just trying to help, I didn’t want this to happen, I don’t-”

“Quiet, woman!”

She raised her voice but it was growing farther away. Virgil realized with a start that he was looking at the sky, bumping along on the gravel path, the bright lights of an ambulance flashing across his vision.

The husband shouted again, trying to silence his wife. That was the last thing Virgil heard as the doors slammed shut, and he finally allowed his eyes to close.

Part 3 HERE

Taglist:

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#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #abuse tw #conversion therapy tw #ts soulmate au #sanders sides fanfiction #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau #sanders sides au #sanders sides

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cali-holland · 4 years ago

Text

Forever and Ever, Ch. 1: The Proposal

Tom Holland X Osterfield!Reader, Wedding Series

With the help of Harrison and Charlotte, Tom picks out the perfect ring for you, and now the time’s come for the perfect proposal.

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing, a lil bit of blood/violence and kind of an abusive ex? (it’s a flashback though)

Word Count: 4100

Series Masterlist

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

“We keep this love in a photograph

We made these memories for ourselves

Where our eyes are never closing

Hearts are never broken

And time's forever frozen still

So you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet

You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home”

Photograph, Ed Sheeran

~~~

“How’s the online shopping coming?” Harrison asked, strolling into the living room when he knew you were away at work the next day. Tom let out a frustrated groan, throwing his head back on the couch.

“There’s too many choices! I don’t understand how there can be so many shapes.” Tom stated and Harrison sat beside him to look at the engagement ring website on Tom’s laptop.

“I believe they’re called cuts.” He laughed, looking over the categories and images. “God, you’re right. How are there so many options?”

“This makes no sense.” He sighed, “How do I know which one Y/N would like the most?”

“Might sound cheesy, but I think she’d say yes even if you gave her the shittiest ring.”

“Well, that’s helpful.” Tom rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Why not go in person tomorrow? Y/N will be at work anyway.” Harrison suggested, standing from the couch.

“I don’t really want paparazzi to find out, but I guess I have no choice.” He paused, “Do you think you could come with me?”

Harrison laughed, turning back to his friend. “You’re talking to the wrong sibling. I’ll call Charlotte and see if she can go with you.”

By the time you got home from work, Tom had cleared out his search history to make sure there was no evidence of his ring shopping. You had no clue anything was up, even when you saw that your younger sister texted him while you two got ready for bed that evening.

Spotting his phone light up on the bedside table just as you were about to get into bed, you asked, “Why did Charlotte text you?”

“Probably just asking if I’m back home. I think Harrison said something about your mum inviting me over for dinner this week.” He lied with a shrug as he climbed into bed on the opposite side. While his room (which was actually your room as well) was big, it still only had one night stand on your side of the bed. Any other night, Tom wouldn’t care about it, trusting you completely with his phone, but now he was worried you’d get curious and check Charlotte’s texts. It wasn’t that strange for Charlotte to text him when he got back into town, but he got lucky by remembering Harrison’s mention of family dinner plans, something he’s gotten accustomed to at the Osterfield household.

“Oh yeah, she did tell me that. Friday, right? I just assumed you’d be free.” You laughed, making yourself comfortable under the covers by snuggling into Tom’s warm embrace. “If you don’t want to-“

“No, of course I’d love to. Your family’s my family.” He reached up and knocked on the wall behind him, just for Harrison, whose bed was on the other side of the wall, to hit the wall back. “See?”

Through your fit of laughter, you managed to say, “God, he’s going to think we’re going at it.”

“Hm, well, why don’t we?” Tom winked at you, his trailing down your waist.

“As much as I missed you, I’ll pass. One of us actually went to work today.” You teased, nuzzling your face into his neck and pressing a chaste kiss to his sweet spot. “Besides, I’m still sore from last night.”

“That good, huh?” He smirked and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Watch it, Holland.” You joked, and he couldn’t help but think that one day you’d have that last name too. Tom pulled you closer to him, intertwining your left hand with his, as you laid down with your head on his chest. As you drifted off to sleep, he mindlessly traced over your ring finger, mind racing with what the perfect ring would look like right in that very spot.

The next day, you went away to work as usual, and Tom put on his most incognito outfit- dark hoodie, dark jeans, sunglasses (though it wasn’t actually too bright out), dark baseball cap. He was completely unrecognizable for the paparazzi.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Harrison asked as he and Tom got in the car because, while Harrison still felt that Charlotte was the better sibling to ask for help, he wanted to go as moral support for his best friend. You know, best man duties and all that. In his casual white t-shirt and jeans, he looked the exact opposite of Tom.

“I’m not having anyone recognize. Not today.” Tom insisted.

“Whatever you say.” He laughed.

The two of them met Charlotte at the ring shop, after they parked a little ways away (because Tom didn’t want his car to be parked right in front of the store- that’s too “obvious”, according to him). Charlotte, just as Harrison had, commented on his rather dull outfit, but yet again, he always wore black in some form. Despite their fashion remarks, Tom was glad to have your siblings with him, or rather his future in-laws, you just didn’t know that yet.

“What about this one?” Charlotte asked, pointing to yet another ring. She’d shown Tom nearly a dozen rings that she thought you’d like, meanwhile Tom was overwhelmed by the choices. They lost Harrison to the men’s section shortly after walking inside because he wanted more.

“I don’t know. This is all so much.” Tom sighed, looking at the pretty engagement ring in the glass case. It was delicate and beautiful, but he still didn’t know. He had been told that the ring will “speak” to him, that he’ll just know when he sees it. He wished it was as easy as knowing you were the one for him; all it took was one glance at you and he knew he wanted to be with you forever. You were his forever.

After what must have been the twentieth “what do you think of this one?” from Charlotte (which he did deeply appreciate her help), Tom was ready to give up hope on this store. Maybe this store didn’t have the perfect ring. Shoving his hands in his hoodie’s pocket, he scanned over the rings again, the shiny silver beginning to blur together.

“Check this out.” Harrison called to them from across the store.

“Haz, mate, I don’t want to look at one of your rings.” Tom answered, running a hand over his face.

“No, you div. I like this ring for Y/N.” He replied, and both Tom and Charlotte immediately came over to him. Sitting in front of Harrison, in the back corner of the case, was the most perfect ring Tom had ever seen. He was speechless, and he knew it was the one.

“Can we see that one please?” Charlotte asked the worker, reading Tom’s slacked jaw expression as one of pure amazement. The worker pulled out the ring from behind the glass, and Harrison and Charlotte both exchanged a look of ‘that’s it’ while Tom examined it.

“Yes. That’s the one.” Tom nodded, and the two siblings let out their bated breaths in relief. As Tom and the worker settled out the measurements and price, Harrison waited with his sister by the door.

“And now he just needs to propose.” Charlotte laughed.

“I bet he’s going to faint before he even gets the words out. Y/N will just have to piece it together.” Harrison joked.

“Do you know how he’s doing it?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, she’s so going to cry.” Harrison watched the cashier slide the pink ring box over to Tom, finalizing the deal, and he felt a wave of pride overcome him. His two favorite people in the world were getting married; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it through this without shedding a few happy tears himself.

~~~

Tom let out a sigh, taking a step back to examine his bedroom. From the Christmas lights strung around the room to the bed sheet hanging on the wall across from the projector, everything was perfect. There were even a few rose petals scattered on the floor. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, his other hand slipping into his pocket to fish out the little pink box. Opening the box, his heart started to beat impossibly faster. It had only been two days since he bought it, but he felt like he could stare at it forever, and, well, if you said yes, then he’d gladly stare at it forever.

“Y/N,” He mumbled under his breath, beginning to pace a little. Another deep breath escaped his lips as he continued quietly rehearsing, “Y/N Osterfield, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Tom had never jumped so high in his life, but he eased up immediately when he realized it was just Harrison in the doorway, arms crossed as he took in the new look to Tom’s room.

“So? How does it look?” Tom asked, closing the box and pocketing it once more. His hand remained in his pocket, thumbing over the object, like he was worried the box would vanish into thin air. He felt his hands start to shake a little at the unimpressed look on Harrison’s face.

“Like you’re going to be engaged by the end of the night.” He said encouragingly, unable to hide his happy smile any longer. “Now, come on, lover boy, she’ll be here any minute.”

“Do you think she’ll be able to tell? I want to surprise her.”

Harrison looked at the room again and then at his nervous friend, who was a little too nicely dressed for a casual movie night in; yet again maybe Harrison just wasn’t used to Tom wearing anything but sweats and a hoodie around the house. It seemed obvious, but maybe you would be too tired from a day at work to notice. Before he could reply, Harry shouted from downstairs.

“She’s here!”

Quickly, Tom and Harrison rushed out of the room, closing the door softly behind them. They went to the kitchen, where Harry and Tuwaine also stood, all four of them trying to act casual as they waited for you to come inside.

“Ed Sheeran? Are you sure?” Tuwaine asked, questioning Tom’s choice of music for the night.

“Yes. What’s wrong with Ed Sheeran?” Tom refuted.

“It’s a little unoriginal.” Harry added, and his brother narrowed his eyes at him.

“Unoriginal?”

“I brought dinner!” You announced, walking into the house. Tom sent his brother and friends a quick look of “don’t say anything” before he went to greet you at the door. His smile widened as he saw you, kicking off your shoes beside the shoe bin, balancing two bags of takeout.

“How was work?” Tom asked as he took the bags from you.

“Boring. Wish I could’ve been here with you.” You replied with a smile, your arms wrapping around his neck to bring him in for a kiss. His hands found your waist, the takeout bags hanging from his wrist, as you kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks, not that he was complaining though because there was plenty of lost time to make up for.

Just as your tongue brushed over his lips, making him smile into the kiss, Harrison walked in the room, scoffing, “Get a room.”

“Don’t worry. We will.” You stated, not stepping out of Tom’s embrace as you looked at your brother. Harrison just rolled his eyes at you. You let go of Tom to make your way to the kitchen with both boys following behind you.

“Remember when you hated Tom?” Harrison teased, his normal playful smile on his face as he eyed you cuddled up to his best friend across the dinner table.

You rolled your eyes at his attempt at a joke, “Hate is an overstatement. Besides, I obviously got over that ruined dress a long time ago.”

“What happened to change that?” Tuwaine asked innocently. All eyes fell on you and Tom, and you remained uncharacteristically quiet, opting to drink some water instead of responding.

“Just time, I guess.” Tom shrugged, doing his best to save you from the topic.

While you did spend the first year of knowing Tom completely ignoring his attempts at being nice to you (which ranged from him offering to help you with groceries when you and Harrison still lived at home together to him greeting you when you walked in a room), your hostility seemed to change over night for the bystanders that were your siblings, his brothers, and your mutual friends.

It was sometime in the fall of 2014; Tom didn’t really remember the day exactly, or rather the night. He just remembered that he wasn’t in the mood to go clubbing with Harrison in some no-name London nightclub, but he went nonetheless. He soon lost his friend to some girl in the crowd, and Tom found himself perched on a barstool, nursing a beer. He checked his phone with a sigh; it’d been only half an hour since he walked through the door. He scanned the crowd in front of him, looking for any sign of Harrison, when his eyes caught sight of you.

Out on the dancefloor with a carefree smile on your face, you still managed to take his breath away. It had been over a year since the incident, and you hadn’t backed down from your grudge against him. Meanwhile, for Tom, he wanted to keep trying because, maybe one day, you’d tolerate him enough that he could actually talk to you. All he heard from your mutual friends (not Harrison because he’d never speak highly of you to another guy, especially one that he already knew was crushing on you, even if Tom refused to admit it) was that you were incredibly sweet and kind and funny and smart and basically everything Tom was looking for. Sighing again, he took another drink of his beer and returned to his previous task of seeking out Harrison.

When he still came up empty handed looking for his friend, Tom’s eyes managed to find their way back to you, but this time that same smile wasn’t on your face. No, you actually looked pissed off, an expression that Tom was very used to seeing. It was then that Tom spotted a seemingly very drunk Richard beside you, Richard from the party, Richard who had been your boyfriend for the past few months, Richard who Tom absolutely loathed. He hadn’t heard much about your relationship, except for the fact that Harrison thought Richard was a “conceited, manipulative asshole” who wasn’t good for you at all. Curiously, Tom watched you interact with him as you crossed your arms, saying something that made Richard roll his eyes at you and grab your elbow forcefully. As Richard dragged you out to a hallway of the club, Tom immediately shot up to follow you two.

“Let me go. I told you, Richard, we’re done.” You said, trying to get out of his painful grip.

“No, we’re done when I say we’re done.” He barked back. Tom took that as his cue to step in, standing a bit taller as he did so.

“Hey, leave her alone.” Tom interjected, and you looked at him, surprised by his appearance.

“Tom, what the hell are you doing here?” You asked. It was Tom’s turn to be surprised; you’d spoken to him, and you’d used his name- up until this moment, he thought you didn’t even know that.

“Pool boy?” Richard scoffed, and you and Tom simultaneously rolled your eyes, “Run along. This is between me and my girlfriend.”

“Sounds like she isn’t your girlfriend anymore.” He hardly got his taunting comment out before Richard let go of you just to punch Tom square in the nose. Tom stumbled backwards a little and regained his footing to punch him right back. Richard staggered in surprise by the force of the blow, and you took the opportunity to grab Tom’s hand and run from the hallway back into the crowded club. He didn’t protest as he followed you through the swarm of people, allowing you to take him out of the club.

“Why did you do that?” You said quietly, once the two of you were outside in the cold night air. You let go of his hand and didn’t even turn to look at him, opting to pace the sidewalk a little while he leaned against the wall, clutching his nose.

“He was harassing you.” Tom stated. When you heard the slight nasaliness to his voice, you turned to look at him and your eyes grew wide as you realized his nose was bleeding.

“Oh god,” You winced.

“Dick packs a punch.” He tried to laugh, but the humor was lost from his grimace in pain.

“Come on, my place is around the corner.” At your offer, Tom furrowed his eyebrows at you in confusion. Playfully, you added, “I can’t leave my knight in shining armor to bleed out on the side of the road.”

“I doubt I’d bleed out from this.” Tom mused, and the two of you began to walk back to your apartment.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you until there was a particularly brisk gust of autumn wind, making you instinctively shiver. Your sleeveless dress did nothing to shield you from the chilly air, and Tom noticed. Ever so awkwardly, he started to try to shimmy out of his jacket, mindful of his bloody hand. You paused, looking over at him in confusion, “Are you trying to give me your jacket?”

“Shut up.” He mumbled, embarrassed but still trying to take off his jacket to offer it to you. Biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing at the humor of it all, you helped him.

“What is it with you and jackets?” You joked, slipping it on over your shoulders. Seeing as he was in a long sleeve shirt and jeans, and that your apartment was just ahead, you weren’t going to decline his offer.

“I don’t know.” Tom shrugged, laughing a little at the memory, “I’m just trying to be chivalrous.”

“Very chivalrous, indeed.” You nodded as a laugh escaped your lips.

“Maybe one day, I’ll get it right.”

Tom felt that maybe this lighthearted air between the two of you was a step in the right direction for the two of you, even if he was clutching his bloody nose the whole time. Back at your apartment, he propped himself up on the bathroom counter and you got a few rags together to clean him up. With his legs spread, you stood in between them, wiping the blood on his nose off with a wet rag.

“Thank you, by the way.” You mumbled, concentrated on your work.

“Anytime.” He answered, his eyes studying you closely, memorizing every detail of your face. This was the first, and hopefully not the last, time that you had been this close to him and, damn, did he enjoy it.

“Let’s not make this a regular thing.” You teased. “And can you, um, can you not tell Harrison? He tends to get overprotective.”

“Shit.” Tom groaned and you immediately stopped your actions, thinking you’d somehow managed to hurt him. “I forget Harrison.”

“At the club?” You asked, a small smile coming over your face, and he nodded sheepishly.

“He was off dancing with some girl.”

“So he forgot about you.” You joked, before seriously adding, “You should probably let him know you left, but-”

“I won’t tell him. This is our secret, I promise.”

And Tom still fully intended to keep that promise. Years down the road, Harrison still had no clue that your ex was the one who almost broke Tom’s nose, but it’s not like your brother remembered that night anyway. All he knew was that the very next day, when you came over for drinks with him and the boys, you and Tom spoke to each other. And, well, Harrison couldn’t help the small flicker of happiness that filled him to see his best friend and his twin sister getting along... finally.

“Yep, just time.” You nodded, sending Tom a small, grateful smile.

Dinner seemed to last forever for Tom; you just did not eat fast enough for him. He even started doing the dishes while you sat at the table and talked to Harry just to distract himself from the itching nerve to just drop down on one knee right in front of you. It didn’t help that Tom knew Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine were all anxiously wanting you to leave; they didn’t want to contain the secret any longer either. After nearly an hour of self-restraint on his part, he finally suggested you change out of your work clothes.

“So what movie tonight?” You asked as you made your way down the hall with Tom.

“I was thinking we could do something a little different tonight.” He said, a small smile playing on his lips. You eyed him skeptically before turning to open the bedroom door. You felt yourself choke up at the scene before you. Taking in the roses and lights as well as the room’s overall new romantic atmosphere, you were speechless.

“C’mon.” Tom slid past you in the doorway, holding out a hand for you. When you took it, he led you all the way inside the room, closing the door behind you.

“You did all of this for me?” You breathed out in disbelief, still processing the dramatic transformation.

“Of course.”

As you sat down beside him at the foot of the bed, in the perfect position to view the projected image, Tom quickly got out his phone to play the slideshow. Hearing the familiar tune of Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph”, you smiled, snuggling into Tom’s side. You watched in admiration as various pictures floated across the screen.

The very, very ugly first picture of the two of you together at 17 (with Dick cropped out and Harrison’s face replaced with a heart emoji). One of the many pictures the two of you took together when you went to Paris for your three year anniversary a few months ago. Goofy selfies you’ve taken together that should never be seen by anyone else. One taken by Harrison when Monty and Tessa’s leashes got tangled, trapping you and Tom together, before you were even actually together. A photo of you two in the world’s worst matching Christmas sweaters two years ago because Tom thought it’d be funny (and it was). Another photograph taken straight from a gossip magazine of the two of you at the Far From Home premiere (it was your favorite picture from the red carpet but also you couldn’t find it without the watermark); immediately following that one was Tom helping you remove your make up after the after party, make up wipe in hand (you two weren’t 100% sober when that was taken).

All of them were pictures of the happiest, most memorable days in your life, all moments that happened with the love of your life. As the song came to its bridge, Tom shifted out of your embrace to stand up, his hand deep in his pocket. When he turned to face you, his face dropped, realizing you were very teary-eyed.

“Darling, no, you’re not supposed to cry.” Worry was flowing through him now. What if you didn’t want this? What if you said no?

“Tom, yes.” You nodded, biting your lip to refrain from full on crying.

“Yes?” He repeated, suddenly confused.

“Are you going to ask me to marry you or not?” You teased. With a laugh, Tom got down on one knee in front of you, pulling out the ring box and opening it to present you with the most beautiful ring you could’ve imagined.

“Y/N Osterfield, the first time we met, you called me a dumbass, and I still am, but now I’m your dumbass that doesn’t know how to write one of those cheesy proposal speeches. You’re my best friend and my soulmate, and you know me better than anyone else. There’s no one else that I’d rather spend forever with, so will you spend forever with me and marry me?” Tom asked, hands shaking a little due to the nerves. Smiling and nodding, you leaned in to kiss him, despite the awkward angle from you still being on the bed and him still kneeling.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You mumbled happily between kisses.

Laughing, Tom pulled away from you, “Don’t forget about the ring.” He took the ring out of the box and you held your left hand out to him for him to slide it onto your ring finger. You looked at the ring in awe for a moment.

“I love you, fiancé.” You said, eyes trailing for your ring to Tom.

“I love you, too, fiancée.” He replied and leaned in to kiss you. With his lips moving with yours, he brought himself up off the ground, blindly climbing onto the bed as you laid down on the blankets. Murmuring into your lips, Tom repeated his words happily, “My fiancée.”

~~~

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#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfic #tom holland series

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amelialincoln · 4 years ago

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Something Good Can Work

Amelia was notoriously a light sleeper. To her frustration, Link was not. Instead, he was usually restless, dreaming about who knows what. She’d ask him about the dreams every couple of weeks, trying to force something out of him that he was obviously set on burrowing deep inside. Thus, she was always unsuccessful which resulted in many sleepless nights, as her boyfriend tossed and turned beside her. Since Scout had been born she sometimes questioned if she even slept at all. Every little sound jerked her awake and she’d find herself standing in the doorway of Scout’s room, pleading that he was still sound asleep in his crib or, as he’d grown older, his new twin bed. And he always was, with his mouth slightly agape and his little brown curls jutted out in a halo around his head. She’d triple check that the baby monitor was on and working, press a gentle kiss upon her son’s head and finally make her way back to the shared bed, where Link was probably radiating like a furnace.

Her nightly checks on Scout became a bit more obvious as she grew with their second child. At around six months Amelia lost her ability to be light on her feet, to the point where even her heavy sleeper of a boyfriend would be able to sense her trying to sneak out of their bed. He’d pull her back towards him, wrapping her up in the warm, familiar embrace, that she had become reliant on, and tell her that everything was all right. After deciding that telling him about the slight creak that came from the hallway (which was most definitely an intruder coming to take their son) was a bit delusional, the nightly routine had come to cease and forced herself to stay put as the curtains swayed and the refrigerator hummed. She knew the increasing paranoia was centred around the masked man that had come into their family store when she was young but the whole thing seemed like a lot to put on Link, so she chose to keep it all inside. Much like her boyfriend, with his own silent nightmares.

Amelia was awoken from her light sleep that morning by the slight dip at the end of their bed. Their mattress was already so unbalanced by the contrast in weight between her and Link that any added pressure would cause the bed to creak and grind along the back wall. She shot up, trying to mask the look of shock on her face as she met Scout’s grinning expression.

“Happy Mama’s Day!” Scout cried, holding out the makeshift card that he must have worked on at preschool the day before.

“Thanks, baby,” Amelia tried to hide the shake in her voice as she awkwardly pulled him up beside her, allowing him to cuddle up to her swollen abdomen. Link stood in the doorway, holding a plate of their favourite pastries from the bakery down the street, watching the exchange with slight concern.

“You slept well,” he remarked. “Didn’t even stir when I got up.” He’d begun to notice the lack of sleep that she’d been getting over the course of her pregnancy, with him becoming more and more cautious of her health. Amelia nodded as she read over the jagged but carefully cut out flower petals, each containing a letter of her name that contained an endearing word that Scout associated with her. “Long, huh?” Link chuckled, peering over her shoulder. “That’s a good one, Scout.”

“L words are hard,” Scout pouted in response. “I couldn’t think of a good one.”

“It’s good, bud,” Link laughed. “I think that one might be better for my name though. I don’t know if you’d be here right now if your Mom wasn’t so obsessed with how long I am,” he smirked at Amelia.

“Link!”

“Yeah, you are pretty tall. A lot taller than Mom. I guess she isn’t that long.” Scout shrugged, staring at the card with a pondering expression on his face. “I think love for L is a better one now. Can I go change it?” He asked.

“Of course,” Amelia responded, glaring at Link who was still suppressing laughter. “But you did a perfect job, okay? Your Daddy is just being silly.” Scout nodded, gripping the card with his pudgy toddler hands and running out of their bedroom. “You’re unbelievable.” Amelia shook her head as Link placed down the platter of baked goods and carefully lowered himself down to sit at the edge of their bed.

“You say that after you asked for sex as your gift for Mother’s Day.” He chuckled, placing a couple of soft kisses on her forehead and lips.

“I’m hormonal,” Amelia whined, biting into the croissant that Link handed to her. “And you made him feel bad about his card, which was great.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Link shook his head, his eyes casting down to the muffin he was picking apart. “Amazing, magical, exciting, long, ice cream and awesome is exactly how I would describe you too.” The grin on his face was full of amusement. Amelia shook her head, suppressing a smile as Scout came bounding back into the room with his revised card. Amelia placed it on her bedside and allowed her son to crawl into her lap and nuzzle into her chest. Scout, tuckered out from the excitement of waiting patiently for Link to allow him to wake up his mother and presenting his card, fell asleep almost immediately, small snores radiating from his mouth.

“You okay, Mia?” Link asked, pushing a fallen strand of hair out of her face as he watched her stare absentmindedly at their sleeping boy. “You seem a little out of it.” Her ocean blue eyes raised up to meet his as she snapped out of the daze she was in.

“Just tired,” she gave him a small smile. “It’s weird to think that next Mother’s Day there will be two of them.”

“Maybe even for Father’s Day,” Link grinned. Amelia nodded, pressing a hand to her stomach as their little girl rolled lazily inside of her.

“You guys walked down to the bakery this morning? I didn’t know they were open this early.” She glanced at the bedside alarm clock which read 6:45. Mornings in the Lincoln apartment were almost always early.

“We went late last night while you were still at work. We were going to just get donuts for dessert but we ended up picking up some stuff for breakfast as well,” he explained, ruffling Scout’s shaggy brown hair as he stirred in his sleep.

“You walked? Our neighbourhood isn’t the best place to be just walking around late at night, especially since Scout tends to bolt off the minute you're not watching him and go chat up strangers. I was talking to Mrs. Hudgins on the third floor and she said that two men tried to mug her on Friday. She was lucky that that guy, Kevin, in the lobby saw it happening because he came out right away. I don’t think that--”

“We drove,” Link interrupted her, watching the worry start to melt off her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Amelia shook her head for the second time before leaning back against the bed frame. “I’m just worried that once the new baby comes I won’t be as alert if he runs off because I’ll be pushing the stroller. Or if I’ll be too preoccupied with getting her out of the carseat and won’t notice if someone comes out of nowhere and grabs him…” she trailed off, glancing at Scout who was shifting uncomfortably as Amelia had stopped playing gently with his hair. His girlfriend sighed as she dropped her previously gesturing hand back atop their son’s head.

“Hey, if it’s worrying you this much we can start looking for other places,” he assured her, placing a warm and comforting hand on her knee and shifting closer to the pair of them.

“I’ve looked a bit,” she admitted. “You know how much I like going on those real-estate websites and looking at houses just for fun." She shrugged as her smile faded. "I just think that moving would be stressful right now and I can’t help carry boxes or be on my feet all day packing. Even if we were to move after the baby’s born I’ll still be in postpartum for awhile and if I tear or anything I’ll be in recovery for a bit.”

“Well, it seems like you’ve given this a lot of thought.” Link shifted on the bed, trying to read her expression.

“I have lots of time to think about it when I’m up all night,” she tried to joke and just received a more concerned look from him. “I’m kidding.”

“Yeah, I know,” he avoided her gaze by glancing down at Scout. “We’re running late so I can drive him today.” Link pulled the protesting toddler up and into his arms.

“But it’s Mother’s Day. I wanna be with mom!” Scout shrieked, causing Amelia to wince. “Mommy, please,” he cried, as he met his Mom’s teary, hormonal expression.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s time for school but I can pick you up and we can go to the park to play,” Amelia answered, trying to keep her voice level and ignoring Link’s sympathetic gaze as tears threatened to spill from her eyes at the sight of seeing him so upset.

“Promise?” Scout mumbled as Link lingered in the doorway.

“Promise,” Amelia confirmed.

She was always shocked by how little time it took Link to get Scout ready for practically any occasion. They were out the door in five, locking it quickly and Amelia watched out the window as Link pulled out of the narrow parking garage with ease. Scout grinning from ear to ear as she watched him connect his phone to the bluetooth of their car and undoubtedly play Scout’s favourite song, which funnily enough was Better When I'm Dancing by Meghan Trainer. Amelia and Link usually couldn't help but suppress their laughter when he continued to request it every time they were in the car.

She lingered in bed for a bit longer. Her third trimester had her energy levels at an all time low. She could barely make it through a shift at work now. When she was pregnant with Scout she worked until she basically went into labor but the second time around Link would often find her passed out in on call rooms or her office when she was at the hospital and would have to practically drag her home. Eventually, she made her way into the kitchen finding a colourful bouquet of tulips and hydrangeas with a small written note from Link and the rest of the bakery goods on the island. The note contained a long and neatly written paragraph about how amazing of a mother, and a wife, she was along with a quickly scribbled message at the bottom, probably written last minute this morning, saying he had to go check up on a patient at the hospital quickly after dropping Scout off but would be back to spend the rest of the day together in an hour. They’d talked about getting married a lot but, after four years of being together and the wedding talk beginning to fade, Link had just begun to call her his wife, despite them not getting around to actually getting a marriage license. She’d already had her big fancy wedding once so it wasn’t a big deal to her; however, she wanted Link to have the same and knew that someday they would get around to at least having one themselves. She also died at the idea of Scout being their ring bearer and maybe, if she was old enough, their little girl being the flower girl.

[][][]

Link checked his watch for the thousandth time in what seemed like a singular minute. He had promised Amelia they’d spend the day together and had even asked for the day off to be with his pregnant girlfriend, who had been spending more and more time away from work as her pregnancy progressed. Apparently Nico had screwed up and had accidentally made a false diagnosis on a trauma patient so Link was there to do damage control and try to talk a patient into not deciding to sue the entire hospital.

“There’s not much else I can say to them.” Link stepped out into the hallway where an angry Bailey and a sulking Nico were waiting. “The mistake was fair, I might’ve done the same as a fellow. It’s just shitty that it happened to a lawyer who knows a lot more about the law than I do. In that case, I don’t really know why you called me in…” he glanced at his boss, “respectfully.”

“Well, considering that--”

“Dr. Bailey,” he interrupted, itching to get back to Amelia. “There’s nothing more that I can do here. Nico made a mistake. It happens all the time. As doctors we aren’t perfect but it ended up being an easy fix. The guy is an ass, he’s looking for money but in the end this hospital saved his life so what happens from now on is out of our hands.” To Link’s surprise, Bailey nodded.

“Alright, thank you for trying, Dr. Lincoln. Tell Shepherd to have your baby, we need her back. Too many stupid mistakes are ruining my hospital. Shepherd doesn’t make mistakes.” She glared at Nico before leaving the pair, who shrugged. Link nodded to his fellow with a hint of annoyance by his attitude before making his way into the elevator and glancing at his phone which had lit up with his girlfriend’s name.

“Hey, babe. Sorry I’m just heading out now, what’s up?” He pushed the P1 button and waited for his girlfriend's response.

“Link,” the panic in her voice was evident.

“What’s going on? Is the baby okay? Are you okay?” He answered quickly, ever since the scare they’d had a couple months back about a possible placental abruption the pair had been on pretty high alert, he prayed to god that everything was alright.

“I-I think someone’s trying to break in,” she answered with ragged breaths. “Someone is fiddling with the locks. I can hear them and I don’t know what to do. I don't know w-what to do. I...I love you.” Link sprinted out of the elevator as the doors opened to the underground parkade.

“Did you call the front desk? They can get to you quickly and call the police. Where are you?” He practically launched himself into their SUV as his phone connected to the car’s speakers and sound of Amelia’s uncontrollable fast paced breathing filled his ears.

“I’m in our room. I don’t know where to go,” the noise of her escalating panic attack was cut off as he heard their apartment’s door open through the phone.

“Amelia?” There was talking from the other end for a moment before her voice returned on the line.

“H-Hey, I’m sorry, it’s the apartment maintenance guys coming to fix the ice maker. I didn’t hear them knock so they thought we weren’t home and let themselves in. I’m sorry, I thought…” she trailed off and Link’s head fell forward in relief, allowing the wave of nausea that was clouding over him, at the idea of someone harming her and their baby, to pass. “Link, I--”

“It’s okay," he exhaled, "I’ll be home in a sec, okay?” He willed the sound of his own distress to be hidden by the crackling of the phone from the lack of service in the underground parkade. “Just try to calm down, Amelia. We don’t want you going into preterm labor,” he tried to keep his voice light. “I’ll be home soon.” The phone call ended as he steered out of the parking lot and out onto the highway. When he’d bought the apartment he didn’t have any thought about whether it was "kid friendly" at the time. He hadn’t even thought about the idea of sharing it with anyone else. It was the perfect place for just himself. With nice enough neighbours and not too expensive for the amount of space. He’d definitely thought about moving after Amelia had moved in and again after they’d had Scout. But like everything else in their life, including the wedding they always used to talk about, work came first and they never seemed to have the time to search for a new place.

[][][]

Upon arriving home he found Amelia curled up on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, still visibly shaking. She burst into tears as he entered the apartment and burrowed her face in her hands.

“Babe, come here,” he sighed, pulling her into his chest and wiping tears off her face with his thumb.

“I’m sorry for overreacting,” she faltered, allowing herself to finally relax into his arms. “It’s just I didn’t hear them knock, I was napping on the couch and then I woke up to the door handle rattling and it sounded like someone was picking the lock and I got so scared I couldn’t--”

“Breathe,” he reminded her, rubbing protective circles on her back. “It’s okay, Mia. As long as you’re both okay.” He watched her face change as she was reminded of the condition she was in.

“She wasn’t moving f-for awhile.” She sputtered as she followed the breathing pattern he was setting for her. “But since you’ve been back I can feel her again.”

“She just missed her Daddy,” Link smiled softly, placing a hand on the underside of her stomach and trying to distract her. “Scout’s definitely a Momma’s boy so it’s only fair this one likes me better.”

“Scout does not like me better.” Link watched her breathing normalize as her mind was filled with the thought of their son. “You’re the one who takes him to get donuts after I say no.”

“And what does he say every time I bring him and you’re not there?” Link asked, watching his girlfriend grin. “I want to bring one back for Mommy.” He mimicked Scout’s adorable pleading voice. “Speaking of Scout, he probably needs to get picked up soon.” He glanced at the clock. “Do you want me to go grab him?”

“It’s okay I’ll go, I promised him. It’s raining so we can’t go to the park but I can tell him that we’ll make a fort when we get back.”

“Are you sure you’re good to drive? You still look a bit anxious. I can come with you?” He offered, taking her cold hand into his and bringing it to his lips. She shook her head, standing up slowly with the help of his hand guiding up her lower back.

“I’ll be fine, it’s only a couple of blocks,” she assured him. “Can you make him lunch for when he gets back? He didn’t have a very big breakfast.” She noted as she absentmindedly soothed a spot on her abdomen and reached for her coat.

“Of course,” he confirmed, stepping up to help her. “Call me if you need anything.” Even though today was a false alarm he couldn’t help but feel an added sense of worry that came with her being by herself but he didn’t want to scare her with his own unease. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[][][]

Scout was visibly upset by the lack of visit to the park as Amelia secured him into his car seat. He gripped tightly onto the bouquet of wildflowers he picked at recess to add to his father’s preexisting bouquet of flowers that sat in the kitchen before he handed them to his mother, as she finished clipping him into his car seat.

“Getting big,” a voice from behind her made her jump. She turned to find Scout’s teacher from last year getting into the parked car beside theirs. “When are you due?”

“Next month,” she answered lightly. “On the sixth.” She smiled at Scout before shutting the door and climbing into the front seat to avoid getting any wetter.

“We’ve seen a lot of Atticus around,” the teacher continued. “Scout mentioned that you were feeling sick a lot?”

“Mostly past that now,” she glanced back at Scout who was nodding and shook her head with amusement. “His father just usually picks him up on his way back from work now since I’m on maternity.” The man nodded, giving Scout a quick wave who returned it excitedly.

“Well, it's nice to see you around again, I definitely miss having Scout in my class. Have a great rest of your day,” he replied before pulling out of the parking lot.

“You miss your mom picking you up?” Amelia smirked into the rearview mirror at Scout who was still happily smiling to himself about receiving some appraisal from his teacher.

“Nooooooo,” Scout giggled. “You just talk to the other moms for so long it means I get more play time.”

“Right,” she laughed.

[][][]

Amelia pushed open the door to their apartment and watched Scout launch himself into his father’s arms, out of breath from climbing the stairs. The two stared back at them, with the same happy grin that was the one trait in which Scout had adopted from his father.

“My handsome boys,” She laughed, as they both wore an adorable blush. “What did Daddy make you for lunch?” She asked as Link set him down in his highchair which they still used considering that Scout was the squirmiest toddler and had adopted his mother’s ADHD.

“Grilled cheese!” Scout announced happily, doing his little food wiggle. Link chuckled, setting down the plastic plate on the highchair and receiving the high five that Scout was attempting to slap him with.

“Hey, I have something to show you,” he whispered, guiding Amelia over to the couch gently and pulling her into his lap. He quickly typed his password into his laptop and clicked on one of the open tabs.

“Link…”

“It's a five bedroom. Which I know is super big but Maggie always says that you wanted four kids.” He rested his chin on her shoulder as he watched her face flicker with surprise. “But if we don’t want that anymore one...or two can be guest rooms.” She shushed him, motioning for him to keep clicking through the photos. “It’s got a big backyard and look at the master bathroom. You always talk about wanting two sinks right? Cause I’m so messy. Isn’t it nice?” He teased, she nodded soundlessly. “And here’s the kitchen.” She let out a little gasp. “That’s big enough for a family of six, huh?” He let her look through the rest of the photos, biting the skin on the top of her thumb as she looked. “It’s like a ten minute drive from Mer’s.”

“Link, this is way out of our budget and look, it’s already sold,” she muttered, lingering on the photo of the bedroom that had been staged as a nursery. Link could practically feel her hormones raging.

“Do you like it?” He asked tentatively.

“I mean of course, it’s perfect.” He let out a sigh of relief.

“I was hoping you’d say that cause people were bidding and we were going to lose it. So I kind of bought it.”

“You, what?” She spun around to face him.

“Happy Mother’s Day?”

“You bought a freaking house for Mother’s Day?” Her eyes were wide and teary.

“Yeah, that might have been a bit of a stupid decision to make on my own. I’m realizing that now,” he bit his lip uncomfortably.

“Thank you,” she finally managed to say through tears, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in as close as her baby bump would allow. “I love it. Thank you.”

“I just was in a position where if we put an offer in it would’ve been sold and I got Jackson to facetime me and walk around in it because they were holding an open house and he lives nearby. I’m sorry if you’re freaking out a bit.”

“I mean a bit. When do we move in? I’m not going to be much help.”

“First of June,” he watched the wheels turn inside her head.

“We’re moving in a week before I’m due?” She exclaimed, glancing around at everything that was going to be needed to be packed away. “Link.”

“I know...but it’s going to be fine. Maggie offered to help and I’ll handle everything, okay? I talked to Bailey and she’s going to give me some time off to sort through everything.”

“Okay…” she replied hesitantly, staring at the photos of their place again. “Is this even real? Aw, Link, look at the swing set in the back. Maybe she’ll be a movement baby like Scout and I can swing with her outside while he plays.” Her eyes rested on Scout who was continuing to demolish his lunch.

“And the hammock in the back corner, did you see that?” He answered excitedly. “We can lie in there together when it gets warmer with the kids.”

“It’s perfect,” she said in awe. He leant back in relief, her words obliterating all his fear and looked over his shoulder at his son, who was licking his leftover smoothie off the high chair surface.

“Hey bud, what do you think of a swing set?”

“For me?” Scout exclaimed, his eyes widening with excitement and turning to his mother for confirmation. Amelia nodded, laughing at the reaction that their three year old was displaying to them.

“You did good, babe,” she squeezed his hand gently with a hint of pride. “You did good.”

#amelia shepherd #amelink #amelink fanfiction #atticus lincoln #atticus link

32 notes · View notes

anxiousstark · 4 years ago

Text

S2 10 | Fury

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 2848

Warnings: Mentions of guns, degrading names, injuries, blood, murder, swearing (always).

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

"So this kid's the real killer?" Noah Stilisnki asked, his eyes moving from Scott and Stiles to me. We were in Stiles's bedroom, showing him a picture of Matt. We needed to end this, but Noah didn't seem convinced by what we were trying to explain.

"Yeah." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Dad, come on." He got up from his chair, standing in front of the man who had raised him. "Everybody knows that the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So all he had to do is, like, look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common."

"Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter Kara wasn't in Harris's class."

"All right, okay, you're right, sorry. Then I guess they dropped the charges against him?"

"No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges. But that doesn't prove anything." Stiles groaned, throwing his hands up.

"Scott, do you believe this?"

"It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us. We know it's Matt." His calming voice reassured the Sheriff, but still, he seemed to have doubts. He glanced at me, and I nodded my head.

"Yeah, he took Harris's car, okay? Look, he knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders, and that if enough of the victims were in Harris's class, that they'd arrest him."

"All right, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive." We looked at each other, sighing in relief. "I mean, why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and its coach dead?"

"Isn't it obvious?" We still didn't know why Matt was doing this, so no. "Our swim team sucks! They haven't won in, like, six years." He shouted before his voice lowered. "Okay, we don't have a motive yet. I mean, come on, does Harris?" Before Noah could answer back his son, I hit Stiles's arm. "Ouch, what was that for?" He rubbed the placed where I had hit him while glancing at me.

"I'm in the swim team, asshole." I pouted, but then I quickly connected another dot. "That's why he attacked me." Both boys looked at me confused, still trying to understand. "That could be another reason, guys. I'm in the swim team." However, there were other people in the swim team, so why didn't he attack them?

"Attacked you?" Mr. Stilisnki directed at me. He seemed mad. "Okay, what do you want me to do?"

We smiled, sighing in content. "We need to look at the evidence," Scott's voice sounded confident.

"Yeah, that would be in the station, where I no longer work."

"Trust me. They'll let you in."

Sheriff Stilisnki was perplexed due to his son's words. "Trust you?" His fingers pointed at him.

"T-trust Scott?" Sheriff still wasn't convinced. "Trust...Y/N?"

"Y/N I trust." I grinned, feeling better than the other two boys, which made both of them push me a little. Tsk, is that jealousy I smell?

"It's 2:00 in the morning." The Deputy behind the counter gave us a judging look. Sheriff Stilisnki took the three of us to the station in hopes of finding more information, which seemed complicated as he no longer worked there.

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't extremely important."

"We look at the hospital stuff first, okay?" The hazel-eyed boy whispered to Scott and me. "Because all the murders were committed by Jackson, except for one, you remember?" We nodded. The pregnant girl, Jessica.

"Yeah. Since Matt had to kill her himself, somebody from the hospital could've seen him."

The Deputy made a gesture with her head. "Thank you. Boys. Y/N." We entered the office, watching the recording from the cameras of the hospital. "I don't know, guys. I mean, look at this. There was a six-car pileup that night, the hospital was jammed."

"All right, just keep going. Look, he had to have passed one of the cameras on that floor to get to Jessica, okay? He's gotta be on the footage somewhere."

"Oh, hold on, stop! Did you see that? Scroll back." I hurriedly pointed to the camera.

"That's him! That's Matt!"

"All I see is the back of someone's head." Mr. Stilisnki glanced at us over his shoulder.

"Matt's head, yeah. I sit behind him in history. He's got a very distinct cranium, it's weird." A disgusting expression decorated his face. But it couldn't surpass Noah's face, realizing how weird his son was. "All right, fine, then look at his jacket, huh? How many people do you know who wear black leather jackets?"

"Millions, literally."

"Okay, can we scroll forward? There's gotta be a shot of him coming at one of the cameras."

"Right there! Stop, stop! See, there he is again."

"You mean there's the back of his head again."

"Okay, but look. He's talking to someone."

"He's talking to my mom." He took his phone out, calling Melissa who was working. After sending her a picture of Matt, she affirmed recognizing him. She had stopped him because he was tracking mud in the hall.

Noah rapidly grabbed some files. "We've got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site."

"And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders. The trailer, the hospital, and the rave." Stiles added.

"Actually, four. A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt at the garage where the mechanic was killed."

"When?"

"A couple hours before you got there."

"All right, dad, if one's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern, what's four?"

"Four's enough for a warrant." We sighed in relief. "Scott, call your mom back, see how quick she can get here. If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Y/N, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott's mom in when she gets here."

"On it!" I quickly hurried. When I arrived at the front desk, there was nobody. "Hello?" I glance down. The Deputy was lying on the floor, wide eyes, blood covering all of her chest. Then, I noticed that her gun was missing. I heard a click, turning around. Matt was there, the gun pointing to the space between my eyes.

He turned my body around, now pointing the gun to the back of my head. "Walk." We both started walking towards Noah's office.

Stiles was the first one to notice me, his eyes shaking. He was going to take a step forward when his father stopped him. "Matt?" Noah showed him his empty unarmed hands. "It's Matt, right? Matt, whatever's going on, I guarantee you there's a solution that doesn't involve a gun."

"You know, it's funny you say that because I don't think you're aware of just how right you are." The barrel of the gun was pressed tighter against my head as he talked.

"I know you don't wanna hurt people."

"Actually, I wanna hurt a lot of people. You three weren't on my list," The gun he was holding hit the back of my scalp, making me hiss. "She was, Y/N McCall. If it wasn't for her, everything would have gone perfectly. But she HAD to be there, at the video store, fucking everything up." He sighed, pushing me forward. Stiles grabbed me, checking my face quickly, touching the back of my head to make sure that I didn't have any wound. "But I could be persuaded. And one way is to try dialling somebody on your cell phone like McCall is doing. T-that could definitely get someone hurt. Everyone. Now!"

Matt made Stiles handcuff his father, then he took us with him. On the corridor, three officers were on the ground, lifeless. "What, are you gonna kill everyone in here?" Scott asked.

"No, that's what Jackson's for. I just think about killing them, and he does it." He smirked.

Now, we were destroying all the files that conducted to him being a murderer. "Deleted. And we're done. All right, so, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it because they killed you first, whatever that means, I think we're good here, right? So I'll just get my dad, and we'll go, you know? You continue on the whole vengeance thing. Enjoy the Kanima."

We saw a light, followed by the sound of a car. "Sounds like your mom's here, McCall."

"Matt, don't do this. When she comes to the door, I'll just tell her to leave. I'll tell her we didn't find anything. Please, Matt."

"If you don't move now. I'm gonna kill Stiles first, and then your mom. And then," He smirked. "I'm going to kill her. Because thanks to Y/N the Kanima isn't as strong as it could be. That night, if Jackson would have been the only one getting scratched, all of this wouldn't have happened. You guys would probably be dead." His rage was directed towards me. "But this bitch had to go inside the video store, and fuck everything up."

"And I will fuck everything up again if you touch anyo-" Stiles gripped my arm, begging me to calm down.

To our surprise, it wasn't Melissa. It was Derek. But he was paralyzed as soon as he came inside, falling to the floor, and letting us see Jackson behind him. "This is the one controlling him? This kid?" I tried not to chuckle.

"Well, Derek, not everyone's lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf. Oh, yeah, that's right. I've learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas. It's like a fucking Halloween party every full moon. Except for you, Stiles. What do you turn into?"

"Abominable snowman," I whispered his name, trying to let him know that it wasn't the time to be sarcastic. "But, uh, it's more of, like, a wintertime thing, you know, seasonal."

Matt didn't like Stiles's comment. Jackson scratched his neck, paralyzing him. His body fell on top of Derek. "You bitch."

"Get him off of me."

"Oh, I don't know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must kinda suck, though, to have all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless."

"Still got some teeth. Why don't you get down here a little closer, huh? We'll see how helpless I am."

Again, we heard a car. This time, it was Melissa. Scott went out with Matt, the next thing we knew, we heard a gunshot. I stayed on the floor, next to Stiles and Derek. Jackson's eyes fixed on me, smirking. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to end all of this.

A couple of minutes later, Matt came back to the room. My eyes focused on Scott, seeing the blood on his shirt. I walked up to him, examining his face for any type of signal that would let me know that he was healing. He just side-hugged me, keeping me away from his injury. "Is Melissa okay?" I whispered.

He nodded, glaring at Matt. "The evidence is gone. Why don't you just go?"

"Y-you think the evidence mattered that much, huh? No, no, I-I want the book." We both were confused. Matt groaned, getting madder. "The bestiary. Not just a few pages, I want the entire thing."

"I don't have it. It's Gerard's. What do you want it for, anyway?"

"I need answers." He used the back of his mouth to clean the visible sweat around his mouth.

"Answers to what?"

"To this." He lifted his shirt. His right side was the same colour as the Kanima, scales all over it, and it seemed to palpitate. It looked like that thing had its own life. "I'm tired of this," He grabbed Scott's shirt roughly. "Come with me. Jackson, keep an eye on those two," His glare went to me. "And her."

I sat down again, next to both boys while Jackson kept guard of the room so nobody would go inside or outside.

"Hey. You know what's happening to Matt?" Stiles whispered.

"I know the book's not gonna help him. You can't just break the rules, not like this."

"What do you mean?" I asked, keeping my eyes on Jackson.

"Universe balances things out. Always does." He panted. "He is using Jackson to kill people, and killing people himself." I stared at Derek, waiting for him to continue. "Balance."

"Wait," Stiles intervened. "So he becomes the Kanima? Derek nodded. We needed to stop him. We needed to tell him. I glance around the room, seeing my backpack on the floor. "Oh no," I heard Stilinski muttering. "What are you thinking of, McCall?" He tried to move his head to glance at me. "Don't do anything stupid, please. You are the one who told me that when I confronted Peter Hale."

"Did you listen to me, Stiles?" I asked in a hushed voice, crawling to my bag, rummaging through it until I grabbed the object that I was searching for. Pepper spray.

He groaned. "No, I didn't." I slowly got up from the ground, without making any sound. "You aren't going to listen, right?"

"Hey, Jackson," His head snapped to me, eyes shining. "Beautiful eyes." I rapidly used pepper spray. Jackson groaned, kneeling on the ground, and aggressively rubbing his eyes. I threw the spray back to the boys. "He will come to get me. I need to help Scott. Use the spray if you need it!" And even though Derek Hale told me not to do anything absurd, I continued running.

However, the power in the entire station turned off. "Fuck," I muttered. The sound of guns being shot scared the shit out of me, but I had to find Scott. I crawled on the floor, hands covering my head as the windows were being broken by the bullets. Then, when the shots seemed to stop, I got up and ran.

"Shit," My heart almost came out of my chest when I saw Allison. I felt fear because something bad could happen to her, then I felt relieved because we were worried about her as we hadn't seen her at the end of the party. And again, I felt terrified when I saw her face. A numb expression decorating her features while she had a hard grip on her crossbow. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Derek? She avoided my question, answering with her own. "Where's Derek?!" Her eyes were teary.

"An answer for an answer," I replied. "What the heck are you doing here? You need to get the hell out of here." I looked around, deciding to whisper. "Allison, this is dangerous."

"I'm going to kill Derek Hale because he killed my mom." She spat. "And I will kill anyone who gets on my way."

"Bitch," I mumbled. "Derek Hale saved our asses a million times. Yeah, he probably isn't the best at communication, but when I say our asses, I also mean yours." I scowled. "Your mom," I smirked. "A huge bitch she is. Well, she was." Allison threw a punch at me, but I surprisingly dodged it, something you would only expect in films or books. "She deserves all that she got. She went to the hospital to get information from Mellisa." She glanced at the ground while I continued. "She deserved all that she got. Do you know why? Because she tried to kill Scott." She was in denial, but she knew because her family was deranged. "She tried to kill your boyfriend, Allison. She tried to kill my brother." I firmly stated.

"Shut up!" Next thing I knew, there was an arrow piercing my stomach. The arrow was exactly in the middle. I stared at it, and the blood coming out, although no words were coming out of my mouth as I stared at her. "Oh my, I-I didn't mean to-" I fell to the ground, thankfully on my back so the arrow wouldn't get more stuck in my abdomen. Allison was also interrupted when the Kanima appeared, paralyzing her. Then, it was Matt's turn to make an appearance.

"You should've given me a chance. Because remember how I said I'm not the kind of guy who would say something like: 'well if I can't have her, no one can.' It's not totally true because, Allison, if I can't have you, no one can!" He screamed. "Thank you for finding this slut," He kneeled next to me, brushing my hair. "Pepper spray, uh?"

"If I could," I gasped for air. "I would fucking k-kill you right now."

"Yeah," He laughed hysterically. "But I think you are dying first. Should we show momma McCall, Scott, and Stiles how stunningly beautiful you look as the blood leaves your body?" This dude was sick, utterly sick. "Yeah, let's show them." The hand that was caressing my hair clutched it forcefully, dragging me by my hair through all the rooms in the station. I lost consciousness.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17 - @bibliophilewednesday -

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years ago

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And you are? Lost, unsure, scared, depressed, anxious, moody, irritable, exhausted....

One thing a guy needs to know about you before you get into a relationship. I got issues, man.

Don’t you think that running around through revolving doors is fun? No.

What’s something about other people that drives you crazy? People that seem to just have to find something, anything at all, wrong with everything. They have to shit all over everything.

What are you doing? Besides the obvious, I’m also watching YouTube videos.

What are you thinking about? My mind is a jumbled mess.

What are you wearing? A t-shirt dress and a jacket.

Baseball is the best sport hands down…right? I’m not into sports at all.

Do you need to go see a counselor? That should be obvious.

It’s 3 in the morning… do your parents know where you are? Yeah, right here in bed.

Ideal date? Something chill like a cafe, strolling around a bookstore or something, grabbing food somewhere... something like that.

Like the movie Elf? Yeah, it’s one of my favorite Christmas movies.

Ok let’s talk travel, do you like to travel? Yes. I wish I were able to do it often.

With someone, or alone? With someone for sure.

Do you dance in your car when there are other people with you? I don’t really dance, ever.

If your quiet what does it mean? It could mean I’m upset, I’m tired, I’m thinking, or I’m just chillin. I’m just a quiet person.

Something that makes you smile? My doggo.

Do you have trust issue? Not really. I just have a hard time opening up to others and expressing myself. I keep a lot to myself. I also don’t like talking about myself and my issues and having the focus on me.

Do you mind watching chick flicks? I like chick flicks.

What about … movies like… Gladiator or The Last Samurai? Nah, not my thing.

Favorite store? Boxlunch and Hot Topic.

Say you wanted coffee.. what kind is your favorite? White chocolate mochas, caramel macchiatos, coffee with flavored creamers, coffee with half and half and cream... just depends what I’m in the mood for.

Favorite kind of pizza? Extra sauce, extra cheese (feta, ricotta, and shredded mozzarella), garlic, crumbled meatballs, spinach, pesto, balsamic vinaigrette, and olive oil.

Do you get embarrassed easily? Yes.

Do you mind people asking you personal questions? Not on surveys apparently, but I’m a lot more private in “real life.”

Song you turn the volume up all the way to listen to? I don’t like the volume up too loud no matter how much I like the song. I like a reasonable level.

If you need a hug at 3 in the morning, who do you ask? My family would be asleep, but I could cuddle my doggo.

DO you ask? I’d just stay in bed and do something to distract or try to sleep.

What do you do when you like someone? It feels like forever since I’ve had feelings for someone I kinda forget what it even feels like. I mean, it has been like 5 years...

Do you mind if people just show up at your house unannounced? Yes. My family is just like that, we’re not into drop-ins, we prefer to plan stuff.

Do you enjoy rain? I love it.

You love Jesus, yes? Yes.

Who’s your favorite person in the whole world… besides me? Uh, I don’t even know you, sorry. My favorite people are my parents and brother.

Where did you get the shoes you’re wearing, or the last pair you wore? They were a Christmas gift, but I’m pretty sure they were from Adidas’ website.

How many different beverages have you had in the last 24 hours? Water, coke, strawberry Yoo-Hoo, coffee, and a milkshake.

In your phone, who is the first contact listed under ‘R’? I only have one and it’s my older brother.

How did you meet him/her? He’s my brother.

Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? Nope.

How many brothers does your father have? One.

Would you get your nipples pierced? Nooo.

Do you feel hungry, thirsty, sleepy or none of the above? I’m always tired so that’s just a given. I’m also thirsty a lot due to dry mouth issues, and I am kinda hungry as well. I’m going to have a leftover slice of pizza in a bit.

When you last watched a movie, did you watch it alone or with someone? I saw The Batman with my mom and brother.

What kind of camera do you use? My iPhone 12 Pro Max camera.

If you could change you name, what would you change it to? I’ll keep my name.

What was the last song you listened to in the car? I don’t remember.

Are you the youngest, oldest, middle, or only child? I’m the middle kid.

What’s the best thing about the place you currently live? My family is here. That’s really it. We’d love to move not only into another house, but somewhere else entirely.

Do you eat breakfast daily? For the most part.

What were you doing an hour ago? Eating pizza and watching YouTube videos.

Do you use horse shampoo to grow out your hair? No.

What time do you normally fall asleep? When the sun is coming up.

Can you hear anyone talking right now? The person in the YouTube video I’m watching.

What’s your favorite flavor of Ramen? The Maruchan pork flavored ramen.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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anxiouslyfred · 4 years ago

Text

You Wouldn’t Steal a Movie

for @dukexietyweek‘s day 3 prompt of Pirates, all that’s coming into my head is that antipiracy add on videos. Let’s run with it

Summary: Virgil wanted to be a pirate when he grew up but pirating films and music doesn’t quite fill his dreams. After a small comment about that Remus suddenly wants to pirate a pirate ship and by hell he’ll achieve it.

Warnings: theft, piracy, sexual comments, pining, if there’s anymore let me know

/\/\/\/\/\

Virgil had met Remus when they were in school. They’d been sat next to each other on the first day of class when their teacher decided that the best way to have a successful start was some conversation games. Really they’d just been given quiz sheets of questions to ask each other and had to go through them.

Now Virgil could only remember one of the questions he had been asked since each sheet had held a different selection of questions. Remus had asked what he wanted to be when he grew up and he’d insisted that he’d become a pirate.

Looking back at that excitement and all the games Remus used that sentence to pull him into, Virgil really wished that had just stayed a dream. Instead he was headbutting the desk next to his computer, praying it would play along sometime this decade.

“You know I don’t actually need any more stock this week. What on earth are you attacking the poor desk over.” Remus called, sprawled over their couch upside down. He had been the one to get them into movie and music piracy, opening a market stand up after Virgil worked out the easiest ways to get the movies downloaded.

Remus had insisted it was just like the pirates, only instead of the oceans their seas were websites and movie theaters, and the swordfights were replaced with viruses Virgil had been creating and destroying since he first hacked into their schools mainframe.

The glare Virgil turned to him with showed that the five-hundreth realisation that it wasn’t was about to explode and the popcorn he kept behind the cushions was all prepared to watch it.

Seeing the popcorn get brought out though had Virgil silently talking himself through the breathing exercises most often used to help his anxiety. They’d always doubled to prevent him from blowing up at Remus if he remembered in time. When he spoke all he said was, “When I said I wanted to be a pirate, I was expecting more ships than this.”

“Ooooh, Do you wanna try pirating a pirate ship? There’s gotta be a way to download one I swear or the modern world has failed me!” Remus bounced over, the idea clearly racing through his brain as with a few clicks he managed to reset and finish the download Virgil had been staring at trying to resolve the issues from it for an hour.

“You could have done that earlier. And wouldn’t we at least need like a 3D printer or something if we’re going to download a pirate ship.” Virgil cautioned, already tempted to see just what had appeared in Remus’s room recently.

That room was one Virgil usually tried to ignore given how many things would be brought home as market bargains only to get transformed into something completely different. The last time he’d looked through the door there was what seemed to be three rugs slowly getting cut and sewn into frankenstiens monster.

Remus was shaking his head already. “Or I could get the location for nearby ship owners, visit claiming to be an elite caterer or something, steal or copy all the keys in their house then try each of them until we’ve got the boat for ourselves.”

“And how are you going to avoid getting arrested while doing all of that? Or store a boat while you turn it into a pirate ship?” Virgil had to ask about the flaws in the plan, not caring about the cover story since Remus was actually qualified in catering after getting bored one summer while Virgil was in college.

The concerns were easily waved off, “I found this cave, really big except for the entrance although a ship could get into it at low tide. That would be a perfect place for our pirate ship. Also it’s easy enough to convince rich guys to show off their wealth with parties on their boats.

“Hang about they’d probably actually give me keys to the boat for the duration of that party. If I just made a side trip to Janus’s shop I could have the copy made and actually get paid for the catering job at the same time!” Remus cheered, nodding at Virgil as though waiting for any other concerns.

Virgil couldn’t be bothered to go into plotting with his best friend after so long arguing with his computer though so decided to just walk away instead. Hopefully this would all get forgotten by the morning.

/\/\

It wasn’t forgotten and the tuxedo Remus had somehow gained while Virgil slept had a lot of thoughts Virgil would never admit to running through his head. “Please tell me your brother has called about a family event and that’s why you’re dressed up?”

“Are you asking to get dolled up too because I have some scandalous outfits you could try on?” Remus smirked, doing a spin. The bow with a wink was enough to increase the blush on Virgil’s cheeks to a vibrant red reaching his ears.

“Never.”

Luckily Remus had already tired of that bit of teasing, grabbing a folder from the desk. “I’ve got to visit this lawyers family. He seemed rather interested when I reached out last night as a catering start up one of his colleagues is funding. I’ll have your pirate ship in no time, little Incubus.”

Virigl could only groan as Remus left, wondering just how long his blushing could be ignored for. Part of his mind wanted to worry about what remus was getting them into but he’d know the other for too long to seriously think he’d be able to change anything now.

/\/\

The next month passed quietly so far as Virgil was concerned. He carried on getting stock made for Remus’s market and tried to remain speaking whenever Remus disappeared in his tuxedo, without getting flustered.

He did notice when the tuxedo disappeared from the outfits Remus wore regularly after a month. There had been nothing more said about getting a pirate ship, but Virgil had known that was still what his room-mate had been disappearing to try and manage, and he’d thought it was going well.

There had even been a night of celebration with leftovers from what Virgil had thought would be one of the final events Remus did for the pirate ship. They’d gone out to the clifftops over the ocean, curled up either side of a skull and crossbones blanket and laughed about all the monsters they could find at sea or on land.

Instead of being dragged out to a ship shortly afterwards though Virgil just noticed that Remus was disappearing off in his comfy clothes, sometimes with a giant rucksack that would return empty. For all the random bouts of flirting between them still happened Virgil became certain that Remus had forgotten about getting a pirate ship in favour of some fling although that didn’t explain why the details of it hadn’t been shared.

Trying to deny any hurt at that possibility Virgil scolded himself that they’d never been together for him to get hurt over anything in the first place. It didn’t work very well.

/\/\

Almost three months since Remus had decided to give Virgil his wish of having a pirate ship and he was finally ready to share everything he’d managed to do.

Virgil had been right about the things he’d need to do to remain unsuspected by the law as well as actually come out of it with the boat. He’d just forgotten that any ship Remus was able to steal through that method wasn’t going to look like a pirate ship at all without a lot of work.

Remus had been determined though. If he was going to make his loves dreams come true again then the ship had to be a pirate ship before Virgil could ever see it. Perhaps this time he’d actually be understood when he told Virgil he loved him even.

He’d noticed the looks when wearing the tuxedo and all the blushes Virgil had been trying to hide for years, but honestly that outfit was never one he liked to wear. Remus had even registered some reluctance or upset from Virgil recently although he was a bit more confused about it and just hoped that whatever thoughts were upsetting him could be worked through soon enough.

For now though he’d finally tied the last flag to the mast and was ready to bring Virgil to their very own pirate ship. The next afternoon sounded like the perfect time.

/\/\

Virgil wasn’t quite sure what to think about being corralled out to the car after having thigh high leather boots thrown at him along with a loose shirt and black leather jacket. Remus had already been decked out in mostly leather when he barged back into their apartment, and had even added beads and braids to his hair alongside the usual excess of jewelery he’d wear.

He wasn’t about to refuse a hyperactive and affectionate Remus though, especially not one practically pulling his arm out with his bouncing as they headed off. “Come on, Black Hole, I wanna show you my best biggest surprise ever, and I’m not talking about the monster in my pants, though I’m happy to show you that too.”

“Where are you even taking me? I thought you had a fling going on that was taking up oh so much of your time.” Virgil tried to demand, instead snickering as he spoke until he registered the words had stilled Remus’s enthusiasm.

In fact Remus had stilled so much he wasn’t getting into the car.

“O-okay, what did I say to upset you? We can get in the car now.” Virgil stuttered out after being stared at for almost a minute, never hearing the car doors unlock.

“Only fling I’ve been having is with my hand.” Eventually Remus blinked out of the stunned realisation of how Virgil had thought he’d been spending his days. “Literally you’re the sewer map that guides me and thought I’d do anything like that without at least mentioning it to you? Virgil I freaking have been exhausting myself constantly for your surprise. There’s no action in the world that could take me away from your side, not even if you said the kraken and mothman wanted to invite me for a threesome!”

The words almost froze Virgil in turn but he still reacted enough to climb into the car as soon as it was unlocked. “So..” he tried to ask about the rant but was cut off by a finger on his lips.

“Let’s get to your surprise and then we’ll talk there.” Remus insisted, turning music on to further prevent any conversation.

/\/\

After being coaxed through a tiny cavern, constantly climbing downwards with a rope he was sure Remus had pinned to the edge himself to act as a safety tool Virgil had begun to remember what this could be. That didn’t do anything to prepare him for when the single rope turned into a rope ladder dropping down through the masts of a pirate ship.

“Woah!” There were no other words for him to say. It looked excatly like the pirate ships from the books and films he’d adored as a child. Virgil could only spin around taking in all the details and additions he was sure Remus must had made himself somehow.

“Captain Sanders, I believe you are missing your hat.” Remus said, breaking through his awed staring and holding out a captains hat, completed with a large purple feather.

“You got me a full on pirate ship.” Virgil whispered, still shocked.

Remus just nodded, “Well it at least looks like that while above deck. Downstairs it’s a lot more of how I felt like decorating in the moment. The kitchen is awesome though so I’m cooking us dinner tonight.”

“You said you’ve been exhausting yourself to do this for me?” Virgil asked, entirely believing that now, but not quite able to comprehend anybody doing such a momentous task all for him.

“Captain, do you realise just how much you could ask for and I’d do everything I could to get it for you? I’m driven to insanity for you and will thank you for it in every way I can think of.” Remus raved, barely even realising how close his steps brought them until he was looking down at Virgil.

Virgil swallowed, shaking his head, “Does that list include kissing me?” He spoke.

There were no words after that as their lips finally met, aboard a pirate ship in a hidden cavern.

#dukexietyweek2020 #dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #pirates #piracy #stealing a ship

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #384

“watch your tongue or have it cut from your head”

Do you post to say happy birthday on other people’s walls? Sometimes. Depends on my mood and the person. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? Idr. What’s your favorite television commercial? I don't watch TV enough at all to have one. And who has a favorite commercial, anyway? Do you trip a lot? I don't really trip a lot, but kinda fumble over my footing and stray a bit. I'm horrible at walking straight, and it's gotten worse as my legs have. How old is your television? The one in the living room is god knows how old. My parents were still together when they bought it. When did you last talk on the phone with someone? A couple days ago for my appointment with my psychiatrist. Are you currently sleepy? I'm quite convinced I'm permanently tired. Are you hot or cold natured? I am ALWAYS fucking hot, ugh. Do you take any advanced classes? I took mostly Honors classes in school. Do you have weak upper body strength? My body is just weak as a whole. What is the worst insult someone can call you? Emotionally weak. Are you good at sketching? If we're talking meerkats, haha. They're the only complex thing that I can freehand no problem without needing a reference, honestly. Ever play Angry Birds? Nah. I thought the movie was cute, though. Have you ever been to the zoo before? Yeah. Has anyone ever been weirdly obsessed with you? No. Are you afraid someone might steal your identity someday? It's not something I actively worry about at all. Like, you don't want my identity, I promise. Do you have any talents that come naturally? Growing up, adults always told me I was a "gifted" artist and writer. Also that I seem to have an unnaturally strong connection with animals. I've always been that person where a pet's owner is like "omg ____ never lets people do that" and whatnot. Have you ever had plastic surgery before? I haven't. It's funny though, how opposed to it I used to be... Like goddamn, I was such a fucking stupid and honestly judgmental teenager, regarding many things. I look back on her and cringe. Like damn dude, if you have a safe surgical procedure to help you enjoy the body you're stuck with the rest of your life, you go for it, boo. Are you afraid of airplane rides? Not really. What’s the best Valentine’s Day gift you’ve gotten? There was this one year where Jason had to go to work on Valentine's Day and I was super bummed, yet he still surprised me with a heart-shaped box of chocolates, roses, and a game I really wanted, Heavy Rain. I thought it was the sweetest. What is something you lose often? My phone. ;-; Do you enter a lot of sweepstakes? I don't enter any. Do you consider yourself physically active? *chuckles nervously* Do you have Netflix? Yeah. Favorite salad dressing? That Olive Garden replica you can buy at the store. Do you enjoy dancing? Once upon a time I did. My body could never handle it now. Have you ever considered writing a novel? Many times. Snow or sand? Snow, by twenty thousand miles. It is VERY hard for me to walk through sand, and I also hate hate hate hate HATE the sensation. Do you like sour candy? Heeeeeell yeah man. Have you gotten any injuries lately? If so, what & how? Nothing notable. Are you a clumsy person? Like you would not fucking believe. Last male you talked to in person? I think my primary physician's nurse. Are you thinking about asking anyone out? No. Pink lemonade or regular lemonade? Pink lemonade, for sure. But I love both. Chocolate or strawberry milk? CHOCOLATE. Strawberry milk is disgusting. Have you ever won a contest on the radio?No. Is there a song that reminds you of your best friend? There's quite a few. Has a book ever made you cry? Yes. Do you automatically check your phone when you wake up? Yes, for the time. Do you know anyone who has a pet bunny? Not that I'm aware. What store or website would you most like a gift card for? Rebel's Market. How do you feel about wolves? I adore wolves. Beautiful, majestic creatures with very interesting social dynamics. Name your top 3 favorite musical instruments. Electric guitar, violin, piano. What was the last book(s) you bought at a bookstore? At an actual bookstore, I think it was The Fault In Our Stars, which I never actually read. Do you use Pinterest? Yes. Do you know any sign language? No. Do you have a favorite poem? No. Do you have a dog? No. The one we were pretty much stuck with has a home now. Have you ever read The Little House on the Prairie series? I haven't. Have you ever gone on a service trip to an underprivileged country? No. Have you ever performed in front of more than 100 people? Yes, for dance. When (if ever) was the last time you went to church? Forever ago, I don't even remember the last time. What's a quote you think is really powerful? There's a whole lot. The first one that came to mind was, "An eye for an eye will leave the world blind," which I do believe has great depth in it. Have you ever had to do your laundry at a laundromat? Yes. Are you the oldest person who lives in your household? No. My mom is turning 60 (... I think?) this year. If you have tattoos, how long have you had them? I got my first the day I turned 18. Do you and your dad have similar personalities? We're alike in some ways, imo most notably in that we have NO fucking common sense, embarrassing as that is to admit. We're both kinda slow at understanding things, too. What were the last three things you had to drink? Mountain Lightning, milk, and water. What did your family usually do for Easter when you were a kid? Us three kids all got Easter baskets full of stuff, and we'd go egg-hunting when we were all awake. My little sister Nicole would always wake our parents up in excitement, haha. My parents hid plenty throughout the house, and there was always this one "special" egg that was actually from Mom's childhood and was extremely intricate and beautiful. You basically "won" the hunt if you found it, and it was extremely well-hidden. When you have house guests over, where do they sleep? Historically since living here, my two half-sisters and their spouses (the only people who've stayed over) slept in what is *technically* Mom's room, but for whatever reason this woman still insists on sleeping on the couch in the living room, I guess because she's used to it after all the years she didn't have her own room and bed. Are you emotionally stable? LOLOOLOLOOLLOLOOLOOLOLLOOLOLLLLLLLLLLL Do you still talk to the very first person you had sex with? No. Are you an atheist? No. I don't quite know how to define what I am, but since I believe there's SOME higher power, I don't think it's fitting to call me an atheist. What’s the largest bug you’ve ever found in your house? Hm... I'm unsure. Probably a male mosquito, 'cuz them bitches are big'ins. Would it annoy you if a stranger called you "sweetie?" If it was a man, I'd be creeped out. Are you into fashion design? Not really. What’s the worst thing you’ve gone through in the past year? My leg muscles continuing to degrade, honestly. I have to do something about this shit. How did you get your last bruise? I fell when stepping over the stupid dog gate. Have your parents ever forgotten your birthday? Yikes, no. Would you rather have some bacon or beef jerky? Bacon. Do you like your orange juice with lots or no pulp? NONE. Do you wear skinny jeans? Back when I wore jeans, they were the only kind I wore. What projects are you doing now for school? I'm outta school. What’s the most number of comments you have on a Facebook picture? What is the picture of? I have no idea. Do you like coconut flavored things? No. Have you ever met a famous author before? No. Do you know anybody who has been raped before? No, thank god. I know someone who might've almost been, though. I don't know what the fucking pig was going to do to her if my sister and I weren't there. Have you ever wished for bigger boobs? No. Being overweight, I just want smaller ones now, haha. Have you ever gone a full day without interacting with another person? I've gone many days without it. How many relationships have you been in that lasted less than a year? Four, if you're counting everyone that had the "boyfriend" title. Where were you going the last time you were on a plane? Home from Illinois. Where were you going the last time you were on a train? I've never been on one. Have you ever been significantly more physically fit than you are now? Holy fuck, yes. You would never guess now that I was perfectly healthy in high school especially, yet I still thought I was kinda fat. It hurts so much to look back on. When growing up, did you parents keep the house very tidy? I mean not excessively, but Mom was pretty dedicated to keeping the house in decent condition. With three kids though, of course the house was somewhat messy with toys and all. When you shop at IKEA, do you always stop to eat a snack/meal in the cafeteria? ... There's a fucking cafeteria in a furniture store? o_o I've never been there before. How many watches do you own? None, save for one in my "treasure box" from when I was a kid. I was SO SO SO obsessed with Finding Nemo that I kept my broken one. I did the same with my horribly aged sneakers, like the soles were coming off and Mom finally made me stop wearing them, ha. Are there any ways in which you greatly differ from everyone else in your family? I do fucking nothing and am useless to society. Should teenagers be allowed to have their cell phones with them in class? Yes, because emergencies happen. I personally think it's best to maybe have your cell phone flipped over on the corner of your desk or something and on vibrate, that way the noise isn't too disruptive and the teacher can see you're not just using it for other purposes. Do you have any gay relatives? Yes. Have you ever had to have a pet put down? Sigh, multiple. Have you unfollowed, deleted, or blocked anyone on social media recently? If so, what was the reason? Not recently. How many cups of coffee do you typically drink per day? None. Do you know what your vocal range is? No, but it's not very broad. What’s the biggest financial mistake you’ve ever made? I haven't been in this position before. Have you ever been in a relationship where there was a large difference in maturity levels? No. What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed as a guest at someone’s house? I wanna say over a month while we were technically homeless. How bad was your acne when you were a teenager? Oh dear, it was rough. Like there were people who had it worse than me, but ya girl was lookin preeeetty rough lmao.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''hail to the king'' by avenged sevenfold

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