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#I am finally leaving the job that made me miserable for months
moami · 1 year
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There is resilience in letting go.
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marvelfanfics1 · 1 year
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Hi!
Ok, I think Groot would try to be such a good caregiver. Not that he really understands so he isn't full time but he would babysit. Always carrying you around, snatching snacks and trinkets for you (sometimes stealing but he doesn't know that), and covering your eyes when something scary happens.
Could you maybe write a babysitter cg Groot x little reader? Whenever you get the chance. Thank you for reading!
Little Guardian
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Pairing: cg!Guardians x little!reader
Warnings: Age Regression, fluff
A/n: This idea is soooo cute! I enjoyed writing it so much, if you have more ideas with the Guardians just send them in ;) I made it like all the Guardians take care of the reader but it's a bit more focused on Groot's and reader's friendship, I hope that's okay and that you enjoy it <3
                                   ⭒𖥸⭒
One day Quill went to the Collector again just to exchange something and when he saw you sitting in one of those cages he knew instantly you were from earth.
Peter didn't care how many Units he had to pay or what the crew would say.
He only had to take one look at you and had the need to take you somewhere safe and help you.
You didn't say a single word when he picked you up and carried you away, you were far too scared and shaking like a leaf, not knowing what that stranger would do to you.
He wasn't scary looking and you somehow felt more at ease when he smiled at you.
"I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe now, I promise"
You sighed in relief and rested your head on his shoulder, finally feeling safe enough to close your eyes.
"Quill, you had one job." Rocket remarked and watched Peter gently placing you on one of their seats, buckling you in without waking you up.
"Could you shut up for a second!" Peter whisper-yelled and motioned his team members to follow him somewhere else where they can talk freely.
"Peter, who is that and why did you bring her here?" Gamora asked and Peter sighed.
"Listen, I know this might sound stupid but I just couldn't leave her there. She looked miserable and I know she's from earth, I don't want to know how the Collector got her in the first place," he said and the others stayed quiet.
Gamora turned her head to look at your sleeping form. She saw Groot placing a blanket over your body and smiled a little when he pat your head gently. Quill was right, you definitely didn't look healthy and she felt bad for you. What you had to go through must have been hard to take in.
"Okay, she can sleep in my bed until we find another solution," Gamora said and kissed Peter on his cheek.
"Thank you."
"So, we're going to keep it?" Drax asked and Quill gave him a 'what the hell' look when he referred to you as 'it'.
"Dude, she's not a pet," Peter told him. "But yes, she's going to stay with us. A new member of the Guardians" he smiled.
One month later
"Y/n, sweetheart, put that down for daddy, yeah?" Peter tried to stay calm while you were giggling and running around with one of his weapons.
"You have ta catch me first!" you shout and suddenly bumped into Groot, who took the weapon out of your hand making you pout.
"I am Groot" he scolded and you huffed, turning to Peter.
"Sowwy I took your blaster, daddy," you said and Groot pat your head two times, you smiled again and took his hand.
Peter was still shocked at how fast Groot handled this situation and Gamora chuckled while walking over to him.
"How is he doing that?" he asked.
"Are we getting a little jealous?" Gamora smirked and Peter scoffed.
"Jealous? Me? Never." he said confidently and they both saw you sitting on Groot's lap, playing with his old Gameboy and squealing in joy. "Maybe a little."
"Just remember who she is going to cuddle with later when it's time for bed" she reminds him, making her way over to you and booped your nose.
                                   ⭒ꕥ⭒
Groot and you had a special bond and would spend a lot of time with him. He's so protective of you that when there's a fight he would rather stay with you on the Milano to make sure you're safe.
Sometimes when you visited other planets you were always allowed to leave the ship but only with one of the others and you have to hold one of their hands at all times.
"Gwoot look!" you pointed at something that looked like a stuffed animal. "It looks funny" you smiled and Groot did so as well.
"Y/n, come on, we have to go!" Peter called for you and you rushed over to him.
Back in the ship you were sitting in your little play area, playing with your toys when Groot stood in front of you with his arms behind his back.
You gasped when he showed you the stuffed animal you saw earlier. You jumped up and took the stuffie, feeling how soft it is.
"Fank you!" you smiled and hugged Groot tightly.
"I am Groot" he smiled back and handed you a juice box too.
You took that stuffie everywhere, to bed, to eat, to the bathroom, and would get upset when you lost him somewhere in the ship and everyone would end up helping to find it.
                                   ⭒𖥸⭒
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idesofrevolution · 11 months
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My Best Friend, the Ghost
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It was the best feeling in the world. Picture this: a simple spread of the legs in the summer heat, sweat dripping from your forehead. You feel a cool, slick touch slide down your inner thigh. It feels almost slimy, though it leaves no residue as it inches toward your taint and ever closer to your rear. You gasp as it circles the tight hole, as if an expert were rimming you with their cold, wet tongue. Then, quickly, a gentle thrust. You feel it enter you, slithering slowly, intentionally. It begins to fill you, that frosty ooze spreading all throughout your body. Your breath is laboured, as you begin to contort and expand as it is overtaken, washed and inundated with this foreign substance bubbling beneath your skin. It pushes up your throat, choking you, taking the last of your breath away before it presses at the top palate of your mouth. It would feel almost like drowning, though your sensations only fire endorphin after endorphin of euphoria. Pressure builds as it presses harder and harder, until... pop. The hard palate gives way as it rushes and balloons into your head. Thoughts and stresses fade away, and you're left in a state of total ecstasy as your body begins to move on its own.
Fuckin' amazing, am I right? Well, guess what? I get that incomprehensible experience whenever the hell I want. Perks of living in a haunted apartment! Confused? Let me explain.
I moved to New Orleans a year ago, give or take a couple of months. I graduated college, and after testing out a couple of places that didn't really pan out for me, I landed in the cement swamp in the height of the summer. I'd just left Salt Lake City, so coming from the tepid air of Utah to the brick wall humidity of Louisiana was a lot. Yet, I was determined to make the best of this one. I'd secured a low-level office gig at a non-profit, and rented out a cheap two bedroom just outside the French Quarter. The house was one of those old shotgun-style places. It wasn't well maintained, frankly incomprehensibly so to be up to purpose for a tenant, though I was still paying an arm and a leg.
The first few nights, I didn't sleep super well. It was hot, I was sleeping on a hard air mattress, and the tall ceilings and old wooden floors made every little creak and groan of the house sound like some demonic entity moaning in the darkness just out of sight. At the time, I was resolved to believe such a rational theory. After all, ghosts aren't real. That recent college graduate sensibility: anything can be rationalized. Looking back, I scoff at what I thought I knew compared to what I know now. But that skeptic within me was what I relied on. It got me through my courses, it got me my job, it is what guided me through the insanity of life. So, as more peculiar occurrences began to happen, that is precisely the lens with which I saw the world.
When things started to go missing: my trusty running shoes, a pair of underwear, my gold chain, my laptop, even my keys, it was just me being forgetful. I took my Adderall and just ordered new things. I hunkered down and just focused on my work. When I heard scratching in the walls at night, footsteps down my hallway, quiet breaths echoing in the shadows... I was just sleep deprived, I took my Xanax and zonked myself out. Those dark shadows that crept around the corners just on the edge of my peripherals? Eye floaters, nothing more. Though, after about two weeks of just a miserable living experience, I finally experienced something I couldn't rationalize.
It was after a soul sucking day at the office, having spent all day sifting through piles of meaningless paperwork to the grating click clack of my coworkers silently typing on their keyboards like mindless drones. I'd gone into overtime that day, and after five or six cups of coffee, I can't say I was even remotely physically tired that evening. My mind, of course, was entirely devoid of functionality. Walking through my front door, tossing my keys in the little dish by the door, I collapsed onto my couch and just scrolled through Netflix, looking for nothing in particular. That's when I saw it. I'd turned to grab my vape pen from the side table, and my glance had grazed past the mirror which hung above my mantle. Floating behind me, clear as day in the mirror, was a figure. It was larger than I, big broad shoulders and pecs, tapering down to a narrow waist, flanked on either side by two muscled arms. It's face was chiseled and sharp, brows furrowed, golden eyes narrowed and full lips twisted in a mischievous smirk. It had no legs; rather, its body was condensed into a long whippy tail. Most notably, I would argue, was the... well... rather sizeable phallus which stood erect above it's navel, with two grapefruit sized balls hanging beneath it.
I sat frozen, unable to look away from it sizing me up in the mirror's reflection. All the other things I could make sense of in my head were obliterated at the sight of what was merely inches behind me, and inches above the floor. I finally found the strength to merely exhale, letting a soft billowing cloud of breath out of my mouth. It was the middle of June, and perhaps 91 Fahrenheit outside. It was impossible. Everything about what my eyes were seeing was impossible. As it began to creep toward me, I fully expected to spin around and like every haunted house movie of all time, there would be nothing there. Though as I whipped my head to look behind, no such luck. I was face to face with it. It was grinning as we were nose to nose. Bringing it's cool, ghostly hand to my cheek, it caressed it with the back of its fingers and winked at me.
"Hey there." It's voice boomed like a timpani, yet it's timbre was gravelly and suave. I couldn't help myself. In a primal state of panic, I shrieked a terrified scream. It didn't last long. The spirit seized the opportunity I was entirely unaware I had given it- quickly shoving it's head into my open mouth. The force by which it had taken me was overwhelming, though I suppose with it's sheer size, in retrospect it makes perfect sense. I was flung down into the cushions of the couch, as it pushed itself into me. I grasped at my throat, which was bulging from the thing which was now flooding down my gaping maw. I could hear it laugh from within me as it squeezed itself in, it's massive upper body condensing in on itself and slowly pushing deep into my gut. My stomach ballooned out, stretching as if it were rubber while it's tail whipped aimlessly against my face before it slipped between my lips.
This was the first time I felt the sensation. The euphoria. The cascading waterfall of endorphins as my body was contorting and stretching as the ghost slipped me on like a suit. I could feel it thrusting it's hands into my arms which expanded and stretched to accommodate the spirit's size. I could feel my chest burst through my shirt, with two jiggling pecs now engorged with it's essence. I could feel my thighs and calves swell with thick muscle, and my feet lengthen and explode through my socks. It was as if someone had taken a water hose and filled me like a balloon, and as I felt it's head rising up my throat one last time and slither into my head, I can't say I wasn't in the throws of intense and indescribable bliss. My eyes opened, I was no longer in the driver's seat.
"Ahhh fuck." It's voice boomed out of my mouth as I found my body moving of it's own accord. No, rather moving of his accord. I stood up, feeling my jiggling muscles slowly firm up and tighten as I walked to the mirror. The thing which wore me as a suit was checking itself out! It had my skin, my face, but otherwise I was unrecognizable. I was indeed approaching 6' 4", my jawline was square and chiseled, my arms as large as my head, my feet probably a size 16, and my... appendage? Let's just say he was now an anaconda snaking down my thigh, his hood restored and flanked on either side by an impressive bulbous sac. "Shit, that feels nice." My voice was soft like velvet, but frayed with a coarseness which tickled the mind like sandpaper. It stretched my muscles and cracked my neck and knuckles before finally bothering to introduce itself. "Name's Antoine, nice to meet ya." My hand slinked down to my member giving it a playful tug. "Actually, tonight, your name is Antoine too, baby." He smiled with my pearly white teeth, and it would be an outright lie to deny I was not eager to see what this Antoine would be using me to do that night. We sauntered over to my bedroom, tossing shirts and pants out of my drawers before he found some shorts and a tank top that fit my new musculature whatsoever. I had but only one pair of sandals that he could force my massive feet into, but neither he nor I could care less. As walked to the front door, and stepped out into the humid New Orleans air, he took a deep breath with my borrowed lungs, sighing in satisfaction. "Aight, my man. Let's see what kind of trouble we can get in tonight."
Thus began our mutual understanding. Our partnership. Frankly, our friendship. That night was one filled with club hopping across town, hitting dancefloors right and left, drinking outrageous amounts of liquor, grinding on sexy men with our tongue down their throats... None of which I would have ever experienced on my own. It was an entire world I knew nothing about, nothing I could have ever imagined myself doing, but with Antoine it seemed like second nature. After a night of debauchery and a tryst in some leather daddy's hotel room, he returned near the crack of dawn, collapsing onto my bed in a sweaty, swampy heap. He closed my eyes and almost immediately afterward I reopened them. The sun had risen, and peering at my phone, it was then 9 AM.
For a moment, I sat there and stared at the ceiling. I waited for my body to move on his command, though when it didn't, I whipped my sheets off to see that I had returned mostly to my former stature. I did note that I had grown ever so slightly. Perhaps his presence within me had left some residual effects on my body, a pleasant fact of which I did not mind whatsoever. I sat up, stretching my arms above my head, a wet warm musk wafting from my sweaty pits and steamy feet from the night before. For the first time, I found myself rather enjoying the scent... Where it once used to make me grimace with disgust, it now made me nearly salivate at the slightest tickle on my nose. I peered to the corner of the room, where now even in broad daylight I could see Antoine's spectral self floating above the floorboards, his arms crossed and his bright smile greeting me in the morning light.
We stared at eachother for a mere moment, before I smiled back at him. It didn't take words for us to understand what was to soon come to pass. Frankly, from then on, it was an unspoken pact. An inseparable bond, bound by an awakened hedonism and carnal desire. Starting that morning, our boys night out became a regular occurrence. I'd get home from work, exhausted and tired from a thankless day of grinding in the soulless office, and we would come up with a plan for the evening. He'd take his time slipping into me, knowing full well just how much I enjoyed each breathtaking second of it. In fact, we took a Saturday to go shopping for "night clothes" which would actually fit us when he was inside me.
Antoine was a bit of a casanova, able to make any person he met swoon with a single glance. The parade of men strutting the walk of shame out of my home every morning did not go unnoticed by my neighbors, not that they particularly seemed to care. It was the spirit of New Orleans, live every day like it's your last. That sentiment was instilled in me, along with a new attitude. I began to care less and less about this dead end job which had only gotten more and more unbearable as our relationship grew. My boss began to notice this as well. He noticed that my productivity had slipped, that I'd begun to come into work with more and more tattoos (which were admittedly against company policy), that my musky scent was becoming stronger and more apparent, that I'd become more casual and laid back, that I was trying to force myself into work clothes that were increasingly more and more revealing as my body grew toned and large. This, to him at least, was unacceptable. I don't entirely recall what it was that finally set him off, though I think it may have had something to do with me having my feet up on my desk as I took calls and the delicious pheromones to which my coworkers had taken a liking to. Something to do with my cubicle mate Daniel lapping up the pungent sweat from my socks beneath my desk as I worked. Couldn't say. Either way, it was the last straw for me.
It wasn't much of a loss, as my frequent appearances at the clubs, or rather my appearance altogether, which the bar owners had taken notice of. I had a line of bartending and gogo boy offers to take up in it's stead. Though, it wouldn't be enough to cover the rent on my own. Thus, we hatched a plan. A solution to both our issues: my financial one, and a more permanent solution for Antoine.
It was an average night in the French Quarter, we were behind the bar, and there before us appeared our solution sitting on a stool near the drink well. He was a tourist, a particularly needy and rude one at that. No friends, failing every attempt to snag the attention of our regular hustlers with his more than lacklustre personality. He was perfect. It wasn't difficult to play into his inflated ego, all it took was playing into his cringeworthy advances and unwelcomed touches before he was licking our pits and nipples, ready to head to our place. A lack of a tip was the final nail in the coffin, we were ready. The 'three' of us stumbled back to our apartment, and it took merely five minutes of making out before the drunken asshole had passed out in our bed.
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Walking back into the living room, Antoine regurgitated himself out of me. Feeling him exit was always a bittersweet experience, euphoric in sensation but longing in sentiment. He floated in front of me, winking as he compressed himself under the door of our bedroom, slipping in with a quiet pop. Wiping the sweat from my brow, and taking a deep whiff of my dank sneaker like degenerate scent pig I'd become, I popped open a bottle of our nicer tequila to celebrate. As the yellow liquor began to pour into the glass, I heard the delightful sounds of possession begin to loudly bellow out from behind the closed door. A shriek, followed by squeaks and rubbery creaks atop elated moaning and gasping. Taking the two glasses, I meandered over to the couch, kicking my wafting, wet feet up onto the coffee table and grabbing the bong to pack a nice bowl.
The sounds of inflation and gargling, stretching skin and growing muscle were like candy to my ears, as I wondered what Antoine would look like. The guy was less than ideal before, though as a host, the sky was the limit to how gorgeous he was going to be. I lit the bowl, taking a deep drag before blowing an adequate cloud. Antoine's moans got louder and louder, his voice all the more recognizable as it progressed. One more puff from the bong and the sound of that final pop soared through the air. The house was silent apart from the heavy panting quietly emanating from the bedroom.
I sat there for a solid moment. He always was the master of the tease, knowing full well that I awaited his reveal. I could hear his chuckling before I heard the click of the lock on the door. Slowly, I stood up and walked to the bedroom door, pressing my ear against the wood. Nothing. I grabbed ahold of the doorknob with bated breath, slowly turning it and pushing the door open. The lights were on in the bedroom, and there in front of the mirror taking a selfie with his host's phone was my Antoine.
He was better than I ever could have imagined. That lanky, sad excuse for a man was long gone and in his stead stood the dreamiest hunk I'd ever set my eyes on. Our bodies were nearly identical in stature, as over the past several months he'd completely stretched me out to his own measurements. Though, his delicious golden eyes on that gorgeous, masculine face sent me over the edge. He was stacked, he was tall, he was caramel, he was packing down there, and he wafted that buttery, salty musk that made me drool. All he needed to do was to turn to me and wink in his new body and I felt myself harden.
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"What's up, baby boy?" He flexed his massive arms, seductively licking his sweaty bicep for me. Let's just say that tequila and that bowl were still there the next day. We were rather preoccupied throughout the dawn, the morning, the afternoon, the evening... Endless hours of carnal pleasures and sensual overload. Simply washing the bedsheets of our intertwined cum imbued into the very threads of the fabric took longer than expected. I imagine you get the picture, so needless to say, such days were and continue to be frequent.
I suppose that brings us to today. As I sit here and write out how we got to this very moment, waiting for an Uber to take us to our honeymoon, I'll go ahead and mention that my former boss just walked by us, feigning pleasantries as if we were old buddies. Asking if now that I had a partner, I was finally ready to knuckle down and come back to work in a 'real job.' I turned to Antoine, he turned to me, and as we found our hands sliding toward eachother's growing bulges, basking in eachother's beguiling musk while my frump of an old boss indignantly watched, I flipped him the bird.
He stomped off, I doubt I'll ever see him again. Why should I need to? I have my man, I have our future, we have all the delicious men of this raunchy city to enjoy... What else can a guy ask for?
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worseforwords · 1 year
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Barcelona Beginnings (Ona Batlle x Reader)
So, I decided to write a sequel to the Manchester Meet-cute/ Memories story after all. However, it takes place 4 years after the initial encounter. I recommend you read the other parts first. You can find them here: part 1, part 2
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“Y/N/N!” A familiar voice called from behind you. You quickly turned around “Ames!” You screamed as your best friend practically jumped into your arms, almost making you fall over. “I am loving the  Barcelona weather already!” She exclaimed as she pulled away. “Better than Paris?” You asked. “Yeah it’s been cloudy for weeks. That’s not what they told us when we decided to move there you know. City of light my ass.” She scoffed as you chuckled at her. “Still the city of love though I hope. How’s Lewis?” “Great, I have some news actually.” She looked at you excitedly. “We’re going to try to make a baby!”
How did this happen? How was Amy suddenly becoming the adult between the two of you? Somehow, the random fling your friend ditched you for 4 years ago, was now her husband, and they were ever so happy, living together in Paris. You actually liked Lewis a lot, and you were happy for them, but damn, how did this happen? 
“Oh my god, Ames, that’s amazing! I’m sure you’ll be great parents.” “And think about how hot our children will be!” She said, referring to the fact that they were both absolute 10s, which you could not disagree with. “Okay so enough about me. How’ve you been? I’ve received significantly less midnight anxiety calls, so I assume you’re doing slightly better?” “Yeah, I am. I’ve made some friends, work has been better. I feel like I’m finally starting to fit in.”
Contrary to Amy, you hadn’t particularly been thriving, but you were certain it was for the best. You had moved to Barcelona about 2 months ago, completely leaving behind the life you had built, for a career opportunity. You left your job, your house, your family, but the worst part was ending your relationship of 3 years. Your first two weeks in Barcelona you had been miserable. You were heartbroken and all on your own in a new city where you barely spoke the language. The only thing getting you through your sorrow, were your daily FaceTime calls with Amy. You had slowly built yourself back up, forcing yourself to go out and enjoy the Catalan sun, and all the city had to offer. So you were truly doing better, day by day.
“That’s good to hear Y/N/N. Now, where can we get some of that delicious Spanish wine around here?” “Jesus Ames, it’s 10 in the morning, how about a coffee first?” You giggled, happy she was still the Amy you knew and loved.
After dropping Amy’s stuff off at your place, you walked into a nearby coffeeshop where you had become a regular these past months. “Hola Martí” “Y/N! Bon dia, the usual?” The barista asked. “Sí, and a cappuccino for my friend, please.” You answered. These past months, Martí had been a ray of sunshine in your life, even when your head was too cloudy to enjoy the actual Barcelona sunshine. “Here you go, princesa.” He said as he handed you your coffees. “Merci” 
Amy had already claimed the loungeset in the corner. You started walking over there, when you realised you forgot to grab a cookie. As you turned around, you saw some people coming through the door from the corner of your eye, one of whom was approaching the bar at a dangerous pace. Time stood still for a moment as you couldn’t help but flash back to a very similar moment 4 years ago in a coffeeshop in Manchester. You knew better this time, so you swiftly moved your arms out of the way, spilling only a little coffee on yourself. The speedy individual could only just dodge you, causing a quick breeze in your face, lightly fluttering your hair. You stood there for a second, catching your breath, looking at the fresh coffee stain on your white shoe. You thought everything was supposed to be tranquilo in Spain, but apparently not for everyone. “You should watch where y-” “Y/N!?” There was no way, it couldn’t be her. You immediately looked up, to be met with the same gorgeous pair of hazel eyes you just saw in your flashback, 4 years and they hadn’t changed one bit. “No way, Ona!?” You both stood there for a minute, looking at each other in total awe, before falling into a tight embrace. “We have to stop meeting like this.” You joked, to which Ona giggled. “Are you stalking me now, Y/N?” She chuckled, to which your face instantaneously turned red, as you knew exactly what she was referring to. 
When you first got to Barcelona, you spend a lot of time on social media, in search of some kind of distraction. One day, whilst mindlessly scrolling through instagram, you came across photo of Ona holding some kind of trophy with some of her FC Barcelona teammates. She had transferred to Barcelona not long after you left Manchester, which you knew, but you never made an effort to meet up with her since you had moved. You slightly frowned when you recognised the girl to her right: her girlfriend, hence your decision not to contact her. A mixture of curiosity and boredom caused you to go to her profile and scroll down to 4 years ago, around the time the two of you met. Oh how you cursed at instagram for still not having changed the double tap feature, when your thumb accidentally slipped and you unintentionally liked a photo from 4 years ago. You immediately undid your action and contemplated just deleting your account all together. But then you realised she had half a million followers, so you prayed your blunder would just go unnoticed. But it didn’t, apparently. 
“I live right around the corner actually.” You said quickly, hoping to avoid having to explain your instagram antics. “Wait, you live here?In Barcelona?” She asked, her face expressing both excitement and confusion. “Yeah, I do. Just moved here two months ago.” An awkward silence ensued as you started feeling guilty for not contacting her. “Y/N/N, who’s this?” Amy, who apparently left the loungeset, interrupted the somewhat painful stares between the two of you. “Hi, I’m Ona” Ona smiled. Amy seemed to recognise that name, because she waited a while before responding, looking at the both of you with narrowed eyes as if investigating. “Hold up,” she finally spoke “are you THE Ona, from the magical Manchester lovestory!?” The both of you turned red at her loud outcry, immediately looking at anything but each other. “I’m Amy, by the way.” She said, slightly smirking. “Nice to meet you Amy.” Ona said as a slight smile reappeared on her face. “Oh wait.” The smile quickly turned in to a look of pure shame. “Yes, I’m that Amy, creditcard Amy.” Amy laughed out loud at the furious glances you sent her way. “Yeah, sorry about that” Ona giggled awkwardly. “Alright, I’ll just be over there.” Amy walked back to the loungeset, still audibly giggling about the whole situation.
“Sorry about her.” You said when she was far enough away. “That’s okay,” Ona smiled “after all, I did convince you to steal her money.” Both of you chuckled at the memory. “I’m actually kind of in a hurry though, so I have to run now.” She said, apologetically. “But let’s hang out sometime, to properly catch up.” She quickly hugged you again before grabbing a coffee to go and heading out again. You highly suspected that she just said that last part as a courtesy, so you chose not to contact her and instead wait for her to reach out.
You spend the rest of the day showing Amy around your new neighbourhood. It felt great to have your best friend by your side again, and the two of you truly had a blast, even though she repeatedly teased you about the uncomfortable interaction from earlier that day. You hardly touched your phone all day, so when you got home at the end of the day, you had a few notifications. 
Mom❤️: How are you dear? Remember to wish uncle Dan a happy birthday. Also tell Amy I said hi. Call soon?
x
Martí☕: Tomorrow we have your favourite carrot cake again!
Loser bro💩: Hey sis, mom told me to tell you to wish uncle Dan a happy birthday. Also you stink, I can smell you from here. Kinda miss u tho lil bit, BUT U STINK🤢
You chuckled at your screen. When you scrolled down you saw an instagram notification from Ona. You opened it right away, thinking she might want to meet up after all, but it wasn’t a message. 
[ona.batlle has liked your photo]
You were a little confused, because you hadn’t posted anything recently, but when you clicked on it you saw that it was a photo from 4 years ago. You quietly chuckled to yourself at her teasing. You saw she was online, so you decided to message her about it, to which she immediately replied.
You: Who’s stalking who exactly? 😏
Ona: Guess were even now 🙃
Ona: Although you did move to my city..
You: Fair enough
Even though the conversation was very short, it still made up for some of the awkwardness from earlier, and it brought a wide smile to your face. The latter dit not go unnoticed by Amy, who discreetly approached you from behind to then snatch your phone out of your hand and see what made you grin like that. “AMES! Give that back!”  “Oooo, sliding into her DMs now are we?” You chased her trough your apartment until she finally had to catch a breath and you took the opportunity to grab your phone out of her hands. You both sat back down on the couch as Amy looked at you expectantly. “Sooooo-” “Shut up.” You cut her off. “What? The stars have finally aligned for you two! You live in the same city with neither of you planning to move and you both clearly like each other. Like come on, Y/N/N, let romance win for once!” “Except they haven’t.” you mumbled. “Sorry?” “The stars, they haven’t aligned. She has a girlfriend.” You said sharply, your voice cracking. “Oh. I’m sorry Y/N/N.” She said softly, pulling you into a tight hug.
The next day Amy cooled it significantly with the Ona teasing. She had clearly already moved on as she tried to set you up with every random person you met during the day. It led to some rather humiliating interactions, but you had fun nonetheless, and you had to admit it was nice to take your mind of things. Towards the end of the day however, you received a message that brought your mind right back to were it had been most of yesterday. It was from Ona. She forwarded you a post, with a smirk face next to it. You clicked on it to find a promo for a Lion King musical revival. You felt your heart rate accelerate slightly. You didn’t know how to respond, so you chose to go with a safe option and just replied with the same smirk emoji. 
Ona: Sooo is that a yes?
You: Was there a question?
Ona: You are impossible.
Ona: Do you want to go?
You: Sorry :)
You: It sounds amazing, I would love to go.
Ona: Are you free tonight?
“Ames?” You called out. “What’s up?” She came running from the kitchen. “Would it be okay if I left you alone for a bit tonight?” She audibly gasped. “Depends, why?” She asked, a smirk started to grow on her face as she had a hunch what this could be about. “Ona may have asked me to go see the Lion King revival.” You mumbled. “Yes, YES, a thousand times YES! Romance is in the air! I’ll book a hotel so you can have this place all to yourself and you know, bring her home afterwards.” The smirk on her face grew even wider. “She still has a girlfriend Ames. This is just a friend thing.” “Are you sure about that? Maybe you should actually ask her. I mean it’s the Lion King for fucks sake, the LION KING Y/N/N. Can you feel the love tonight, because I can!” As she kept on rambling for a while, your focus went back to your phone.
You: Tonight it is :)
Ona: Great, it’s a date ;)
“Y/N? What’s up?” Amy said, noticing your flustered expression and the blush spreading across your face. “She said, and I quote: it’s a date.” “IT’S A DATE!” Amy exclaimed, as she pulled you off the couch to dance around the room, sending kissy faces your way and you couldn’t help but giggle at her antics. “Wait. We have to get you ready! What to wear, what to wear!?” She started running around frantically, like the true drama queen she is.
You met up with Ona at the theater about an hour later. “Hi.” she said, with a shy smile on her face. “Hi.” You replied. “Sorry again about yesterday. It was all just a little weird.” “So you felt that too huh?” She said, looking slightly relieved. “I guess it had just been a while.” “Yeah, I guess.” The conversation fell quiet as you stood in line waiting to get your tickets scanned. “It’s still a little awkward isn’t it?” She finally asked. “Yes it is.” You admitted, and you both chuckled quietly. The truth was, you weren’t quite sure how to act around her. You had only ever been flirty with her, but now she had a girlfriend, so you tried your very best to just be friendly. The fact that she (presumably jokingly) called it a date however, did not make acting platonic any easier. 
“Do you want to get a drink first?” She asked once you were both inside. “Yes please.” You answered, hoping it might take the edge off things. Ona ordered two glasses of wine and then sat down on a bench, waiting for you to join her. You sat down next to her, and immediately noticed her eying the obvious gap you left between the two of you. Everything you seemed to do in an attempt to not make her uncomfortable, seemed to make things so much more awkward and therefore make her even more uncomfortable. Maybe going out with her was a mistake. Even though it had been 4 years, there was just something about her that made you want to jump her bones right then and there. That could never happen though, so here you were, repressing everything you felt for her. Ona seemed to have noticed your mind had started to spiral, as she carefully put her hand on your shoulder to make you look at her instead of your feet. “Hey, Y/N, remember: Hakuna Matata.” Butterflies crept up your stomach as you let her words sink in. Thankfully the theater bell went, signalling that the show was about to start, because you must have been staring at her with obvious heart eyes for way too long.
The musical was incredible. The music, the costumes, the decor, everything was executed to perfection. At one point Ona put her hand on the armrest in between you, ever so slightly caressing your hand that had already been on there. You had been tempted to move your hand closer to hers, but instead you pulled it away. Apart from that moment the musical had been a welcome distraction. When the curtain closed, you both remained in your seat for a bit, recovering from the spectacle you had just witnessed. “Want to take a walk so we can properly catch up?” She finally asked.
As you walked the beautiful streets of Barcelona by night together, you successfully made small talk, catching up on each others lives. You were proud of the comfortable platonic atmosphere you finally seemed to have created, when she suddenly stopped in her tracks. “I need to show you something.” She said. You turned around to look at her and she pulled out something from under the collar of her shirt. It was the golden necklace with the little lion on it you had left her back in Manchester. She still had it. You just looked at her, too stunned to speak. All your efforts to keep things friendly and suppress your feelings and here you were, heart beating like a maniac. “You still have that?” You asked quietly, taking a step forward to take the little lion in your hand and have a closer look at it. You looked back up and there was a moment when your noses almost touched. You looked into her eyes and you were sure you caught her looking at your lips for a second. You immediately realised you were standing way to close, and quickly backed away heart still racing uncontrollably. “Ona, I erm- I think I should go home.” You said. “Oh, okay.” She said, suddenly staring at the pavement, disappointment clear in her voice. You went in to give her a quick hug when she looked at you and asked softly: “Did I do something wrong?” “No, no, of course not. I’m just not feeling very well, sorry.” You hastily hugged her goodbye and turned around to walk away, not wanting her to spot your eyes tearing up.
“Oh no, you’re back way too soon.” Amy said from the couch when she heard you enter your apartment. “Y/N/N, you okay?” She asked when you didn’t respond. You still didn’t answer, instead you just plopped down next to her as she opened up her arms for you to cuddle up against her. “That bad huh?” You nodded. You enjoyed the comfort of your best friends arms for a while before she sat you up straight. “Want to tell me what happened?” 
You recounted all the events of the night as you sniffled softly in between sentences. “Y/N/N,” Amy said when you were done “she was very clearly coming on to you. This is in no way platonic.” “Well I don’t know what to tell you Ames, she has a girlfr-” “Does she? Doesn’t sound like it. And if she does I’m not sure they are in a good place right now.” 
A couple of days went by without any form of contact between you and Ona. Luckily you had Amy by your side the whole time to distract you from spiralling about the whole situation you brought onto yourself. Unfortunately, she eventually had to go back to her life in Paris, to make a family or whatever, so you dropped her off at the airport and hour before her flight. “Damn it.” She said as you walked into the airport together. “3 hour delay.” “That means I get to spend 3 more hours with you!” You cheered. “What do you want to do first? People-watching? Eat a whole Toblerone? Go plane spotting?” You suggested. “You don’t have to stay you know.” She giggled. “No I want to. It’ll be fun!” “Alright then, I’m going to find a toilet. You find us a nice people-watching spot.” You sat down at the bench with the best view of the airport hallway and pulled out your phone to scroll through instagram. You came across a picture of Ona at a restaurant with her teammates. Without thinking too much about it you liked the post. Hardly ten seconds past before you got a notification. A message from Ona.
Ona: Hey
You: Hi
Ona: Can we maybe talk?
You: Sure
Ona: Like in person
You: When?
Ona: Now?
You were too busy staring at your phone when Amy suddenly hit your shoulders from behind, making you jump in your seat. “Your doing people-watching all wrong.” She joked. You hastily put your phone away. “What was that?” Amy asked, upon noticing your secretive behaviour. “Nothing.” “Y/N/N, don’t do this again. What’s going on?” “She asked if we can talk, like now.” You admitted. “Just go.” Amy said. “No, no, I can’t just leave you alone here, I-” “Y/N. Y/M/N. Y/L/N. I refuse to stand in the way of true love. Please go talk to her.” She said dramatically. “You sure?” “Yes! Now go!” You pulled Amy into a tight embrace and thanked her for everything. After a while she pulled away and pushed you towards the exit. “Stop wasting time, go get your girl!”
You sat at the edge of your couch, fidgeting with your bracelet when the ringing of the doorbell had you suddenly shoot straight up. Upon opening your front door you saw Ona, but you weren’t met with the usual cute smile. Instead her face portrayed a both nervous and somber expression.
“Hi”
Part 4 out now!
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elisysd · 1 year
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I Wanna Be yours – Arctic Monkeys
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Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter
Secrets I have held in my heart Are harder to hide than I thought Maybe I just wanna be yours
“And that’s a wrap for Flowers and Crowns! Amazing job guys! I could not ask for a better crew!”
Just like everyone else, Lyanna clapped her hands, happy and a little sad as well to end the shooting. The movie ended its first life, now it was on its way to a new crew to make it perfect for the release in a few months. She hugged the director before heading to her trailer only to be stopped on her tracks by her least favorite castmate.
“David. What do you want?”
“To say congratulations. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Do you want the truth or a lie?”
He arched an eyebrow and she sighed.
“Seriously? You’ve been horrible with me. And not only with me, but you also made the atmosphere absolutely uncomfortable for everyone on set. I’m sad to not come to work anymore because I truly loved the story and its message, but I’m not sad to leave you.”
“Oh come on Lyanna, if you can’t take the joke…” he tried to defend himself.
“A joke? A fucking joke? You know what a joke is David? It’s messing with your partner stuff, replacing the sugar in her favorite tea in the morning with salt, but it’s certainly not bullying. You threatened me, you grabbed me when I’ve never given you the permission to do so. I haven’t reported you yet because I’m hopeful and maybe a little naïve that you can grow the fuck up, but I won’t hesitate to do so if when we see each other again, you try something. Did I make myself clear?”
“If you threaten me Lyanna, I will not hesitate to send your little porn video to your precious little Charles.”
“Go ahead. He knows about it and guess what, he doesn’t care. This video made me miserable once, but it’s over. I won’t let it ruin me anymore. So do wat you want with it. The most important people in my life are already by my side and in my corner. They don’t define me by this stupid video. As they should. But if you want real threats David, knows that I have contacts in this industry. More than you. Just one phone call from my end and you will be jobless really quickly. It stands for me but also for everyone that will work with you in the future. If I hear about how badly you treat people in the workplace, and believe me I will know, I won’t hesitate to call a few people. Did I make myself clear?”
At Lyanna's dark look, David couldn't help but gulp. She could be scary when she wanted to be.
“Very.”
“Perfect. See you for promo then.”
And just like that, she left as quicky as she came. She could not wait to leave the studio and go to Charles’ apartment. He did not tell her wat he planned but she knew it would be simple and intimate. She got rid of her clothes, showered as fast as possible and dressed with spare ones she brought one her way to work this morning. Finally, she was out and made her way back to the residence.  
On the other side of Monaco, Charles was busy tying up loose ends for the evening. The meal was quietly cooking in the oven, the table was laid, the hoover was done, and the smell of the flat was fresh. Classical music was playing softly in the background. As for him, he was dressed in his whitest shirt and the only one that had been ironed.  All he was waiting for was Lyanna.
Fortunately for him, he didn't have to wait long. The young actress rang his doorbell at 7pm sharp, a bottle of red wine in her hand and a dazzling smile on her face. She kissed Charles on both cheeks before entering the flat and making herself comfortable on the sofa.
“You seem in a good mood.” Charles greeted her before joining her on the sofa.
“I am. I said what I needed to say to David. I put my big girl pants on. I’m proud of myself.” She confessed.
“Congrats! If you are proud of you, then I am as well.”
“Thanks Charles. Not just for that but for everything. I think you don’t know how much you helped me.”
“I did not do anything.”
“Yes. Yes, you did. I don’t think you totally grasp how I was when I first arrived in Monaco. I was lost, did not have much confidence in me, not that I’m very confident now but I’m starting to. I was scared of what people might think of me and I was constantly fearing to be judged because of a stupid video that I’m not responsible for. And then I met you. You changed me, Charles. Well not really changed, but let’s say that because of you I’m a better version of myself. And for that I’ll be forever grateful for you and your support.”
“Wow… Lyanna I… I don’t know what to say. You’re welcome?”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know all of that.”
Charles was stuttering and to avoid feeling any more comfortable decided to open the bottle of red wine. The evening was spent in a light-hearted atmosphere. Lyanna asked Charles what he expected from the final part of the season, to which he replied that he didn't expect much, apart from not going completely insane, and that his sights were now set on 2024 as he had nothing good to rescue from 2023.
As for Lyanna, when he asked her what she was going to do now that filming was over, she replied that she was planning to spend some time with her family before returning to London and its gloom. And then she'd take it from there. That was the beauty and, at the same time, the anguish of her job: not knowing what tomorrow would bring. She had some commitments to honour, some brands to meet and perhaps some new contracts to sign. And then the usual, auditions to prepare, scripts to read and long days spent by her phone waiting for a call that might never come. Hearing her words, Charles couldn't help wondering why she insisted on returning to London when she could do all this so easily from a remote location.
“Because London is my home? I pay a rent Charles. And even if I don’t live there very much, I still love the place and all my things are there.”
“Yeah, I know but, technically you don’t need to be there. You can call your agent from anywhere in the world. Prepare auditions where you want. What I mean is, you don’t go to the office, you don’t have a job in a big corporation.”
“I still need a roof over my head.” She pointed out laughing.
“You have a roof. Here. Above my apartment.”
“Well, the lease is not at my name. And it has been rented for the duration of the shooting. So no, I don’t have a place to stay here.”
“I could let you stay at mine.”
She sighed. She felt as if she'd already had this conversation.
“Listen and listen carefully, Charles. Why would I stay in a city that is definitely not made for me. I’m not a fan of being here. If Monaco is bearable for me, it’s because you are here. If I stayed here, what would I do. I don’t know anyone. I don’t have my habits. And clearly, even if I’m an actress and I have the chance to do more than okay moneywise, I’m not rich enough to be able to rent in Monaco. The only thing I have here is you. And we both know that you are not here for long when you have the chance to be. So tell me, why would I stay?”
“Well for starter, you are wrong, you do know some people, you know my friends, Carla, you could meet my mom as well. For the rent, you don’t have to stay in Monaco. There are cities like Nice or along the French Riviera that are much more affordable. And you would be near your family, you would not need to take the plane to see them. Or they could come to see you more often. See, many reasons to stay around.”
She gently shook her head. She was touched that Charles was trying to hold her back, but her mind was made up and she wouldn't go back on it.
“You are stubborn Lyanna.”
“You are too, mister.”
There was a silence, during which Charles took the opportunity to clear the table and put the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher. When he returned, he was surprised to see Lyanna standing by the piano, absent-mindedly caressing the black and white keys. He watched her silently for a few moments and couldn't help thinking that there, by the window bathed in the light of the setting sun, he had never found her as beautiful and as at peace as at that moment.
“You play?” he asked her, breaking the magic of the instant.
“It has been a while. I was thinking that I’ve never really heard you play before.”
“Well, that should be rectified immediately.”
Charles sat down on the piano bench and rolled up his sleeves before letting his fingers dance across the keys, creating a soft, melancholy melody. Lyanna, leaning against the instrument, looked on in admiration.  If she could stay like this forever, she would. She hadn't really told Charles the whole truth about why she was leaving. Of course, what she had told him earlier was true. But deep down, she could sense that her attachment to Charles was much deeper than she was trying to convince herself. It wasn't love, or so she thought. It had been so long for her that she no longer knew what it was if she ever did. All she knew was that Charles made her feel alive for the first time in a long time. And this addiction she was creating terrified her. This feeling of wanting to see him all the time, of being the first person she wanted to talk about her day, whether it was good or bad, this lack she felt when they hadn't spoken for more than 24 hours, she knew it wasn't healthy. Charles was like a drug and even if the withdrawal was going to be violent and difficult, it had to be done. But she would treasure these last moments for a long time to come.
The melody came to an end and Charles looked up at her, smiling. He shifted on the bench, inviting her to sit next to him, which she did.
“You said that it was a while since you played. What do you think of restarting now, with me. Together.”
Lyanna couldn't help but hear a second meaning in his words.
“I would love to.”
The two young adults awkwardly began to play together. The melody was far from perfect, it was off-key and more than once their fingers touched, both trying to reach the same note. But it was their own melody. Unique. They went on like this for a while, letting their minds, their doubts, their fears and all the unsaid things float away in the musical notes. They didn't know how long they'd been sitting there at the piano. But in this moment of complicity and complementarity, neither the actress nor the pilot wanted to interrupt the instant.
When they finally looked up, it was beginning to get dark. Not a word was spoken. There was no point, the music spoke for itself.
Charles took a deep breath. Something in the atmosphere had changed, he could feel it. He didn't know what exactly but it was as if a mechanism deep inside him had suddenly been activated. Like something was finally clicking into place. His eyes fell on Lyanna. His gaze caught hers. What if what had been missing from his life all this time had been there all along, but he'd been too blind to see it?  Or not ready. Could it be that, as Pierre had told him on the phone earlier, while he was preparing dinner, he and Lyanna were already behaving like a couple, without actually being one? Was she his missing piece? A wave of regret swept over him. If that was the case, it was too late. He was leaving the next day, she soon after. Starting a relationship now, assuming she felt the same as he did, would be doomed to failure. If he had ever believed in long-distance relationships, he didn't now. And with her, he certainly didn't want distance. Charles laid his eyes on the young woman's lips. All he had to do was lean in and he'd have his answer. But was it worth breaking a friendship? Wasn't it just nostalgia for the moment that made him think like that?
Lyanna noticed the change in Charles' attitude and the look on her lips. She knew what was going to happen, she could feel it. It made her panic. A point of no return was about to be crossed and she didn't think she was ready for it. So it was she who broke the magic of the evening. She stood up hastily, urging Charles to do the same.
“Oh my god, it’s so late. I should go. You must wake up early tomorrow.”
She hurried towards the entrance, gathering her things before heading for the front door. She was about to step through when Charles grabbed her by the hand.
“Lyanna, wait. You can’t leave like that. Did I do something wrong?” Charles panicked.
“No, no absolutely not. You made everything right, Charles. That’s the problem somehow. If I don’t leave now, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.” She confessed.
“Then don’t. You don’t have to. We don’t have to say goodbye. Please Lyanna, come with me.”
She wasn't sure whether he was talking about the flat or in general.
“I can’t Charles. You’ll be fine. With or without me. And we’ll text and call. I promise.”
“Come to Zandvoort. Please. I need you there, I’m not ready to let you go.”
Her eyes filled with tears. She had to leave the flat and she had to leave now. She brought her hand to her lips and placed it on Charles's chest, close to his heart.
“I’ll be there. Not physically, I can’t promise you that I will make it. But I’ll support you from afar. Take care Charles.”
And just like that she went away, leaving Charles with a feeling of emptiness.
Lyanna only took a few steps before bitterly regretting the way she had left. This behaviour was the Lyanna of a few weeks ago. But if she had learned anything, it was that she had to face her fears and reality rather than run away from it. Leaving like that, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
She took a deep breath and, before changing her mind, returned to Charles's door. She gave it a loud knock before seeing it open instantly. Charles was standing in front of her, looking defeated.
“Did you forget something?” he asked her.
“Yes, yes I did.”
And just like that, she got closer to him and placed her lips on his.
====
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maryoliverdotcom · 11 months
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A Shade Darker Than Red: Chapter 4
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
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The same day. 15:01.
I felt Paro long before I saw her.
The way the leaves rustled and nodded towards the sky, the way the red seemed to clear away. 
Next, I heard her.
Firm, sure footsteps resounded on the pavement. I imagined her walking towards me with her head held high, an earthen cup of steaming black tea in her hand.
And finally, I saw her.
She looked like the rich (sort of extra, if you ask me) businesswoman she was meant to be, exactly how I imagined her—except she hadn’t seen me yet.
The moment she saw me, her façade slipped and a wide grin spread over her face. Her free hand almost reached up to cover her teeth. Almost. 
She ran towards me, and all I remember is that I kept telling her not to drop the tea. The next thing I saw was her arms wrapped around my shoulders, her stupid face grinning at me. 
“We literally had a tickle fight an hour ago,” I said, pushing her off. Oh God, what was I going to do with this love?
“I know,” Paro said, still grinning. “Being away from you for an hour made me miserable.”
“Hey! I’m supposed to be the poet here!”
Paro swatted me on the arm before downing her tea in one go. “Shut up and give me the ice cream.”
“Say ‘please’.”
“No.”
“Fine. Just because I’m nice.” I fished out the plastic bag, the faint silhouette of a two-in-one cup and an orange packet showing.
Paro flashed me a victorious grin before dipping her hand into the bag, snatching the two-in-one cup for herself. What a Disney villain. 
“Won’t you have yours?” she asked me.
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Why?”
“Not hungry.”
Paro eyed me suspiciously for a moment before shrugging it off. Something told me that her brain was working at the speed of a million miles per hour. 
I turned to look at the sky. It was red. 
Red.
Red.
What a familiar word.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” I whispered, mostly to myself.
Paro glanced at me. “Hm?”
“The sky,” I repeated. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Paro looked up, squinting at the midday sun. “Dude, how are you even looking at that? You’ll damage your eyes, Renu!”
Her words seemed to be coming from a faraway corridor. I looked down at my hands. Were they really my hands? Why was the sky red again? Things were getting better. Things were getting better, weren’t they?
Focus, Renu. Tickle fight. Paro. Paro. Paro.
As if on cue, Paro slipped her fingers through the gaps between mine. “Renu?” she asked softly.
I stifled a gasp and looked at her with a tight smile. I felt the heat rising in my cheeks.
“Earth to Renu!” I said, flailing my arms, trying to coax a smile out of her tensed features. I forced out a laugh. “I’m okay, Paro. Chill.”
Paro stared at—or rather, through—me. “And how exactly am I supposed to chill?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe have more ice cream?”
Paro’s lips twitched. She allowed herself to giggle briefly before turning serious again. “How dare you make me laugh in the most inappropriate situations?”
I knew what she would, inevitably, be thinking of—the day of her uncle’s funeral, when we were thirteen. Our parents were having a sombre discussion and Maa had told me to go “upstairs”. Paro and I had maintained eye contact for exactly one second before I looked terribly, terribly confused and asked: “To uncle-ji?”
Now, I looked at Paro and her barely suppressed smile. “I facepalmed so hard my head hurt,” she chuckled. 
“Now that I think of it, I’m probably the reason for your migraines,” I said.
Paro grumbled. “Nice job changing the subject, twerp. One problem: I’m not letting you go today.”
I smiled at her feeble attempt at being grumpy. “Don’t worry,” I said. “We have plenty of time.”
And that was true. We’d have days and weeks and months and years to talk about ourselves. By then, perhaps, the tinted glasses would disappear from my eyes. Everything had been red for so long I thought I had marks from the ‘rims’ of my red-tinted glasses. 
We had time. We had time for everything to subside to normal again. I had time to hold her hand and swing it and squeeze it and paint the sky in her colours.
But for now, the sky was on fire and I was sixteen.
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@avani-amulya @manujanolavu @nirmohi-premika @lovesickpdf @arachneofthoughts @sonilaalbindi @desi-yearning @alhad-si-simran @thatpagalchokri @trashmeowcan @waitingforthesunrise @vellibandi @thesunandstarss @chanda-chamke-cham-cham @damnn-dorothea @the-unhinged-fanwinggg @watchingblsnowandforever please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist<3
tw: sudden anxiety attack
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ciellunee · 1 year
Text
It's been months since you saw Itachi. He doesn't care and you are sure of that. He's that one person you crave every single night, crying, burying yourself in the pillow thinking where it all went wrong. ITACHI was possessive no doubt but you never thought he would toy with you to this extent. You both were in a content relationship of 2 years, but last year you started noticing changes in your surroundings. Suddenly you started getting lesser and lesser invites to parties, all your friends started ignoring you out of the blue...there were nights where all you had was itachi's strong arms comforting you while you cried in his embrace asking him what was happening. 6 months ago, you were kicked out of your parents house after having a big fight with itachi, surprisingly no bank or moneylender wanted to give you any sort of loan even if the collateral was big. You had absolutely no where to go but worry not my darling cuz itachi was always there to welcome you with open arms. 'My love, why do you need a homeloan when you can stay at my apartment forever?'
You finally stepped out of the manipulation and distanced yourself from itachi which however was impossible. Being one of the finest shinobi of hidden leaf, itachi was trusted and respected by all adding him being an uchiha. The first time you tried to escape the hidden leaf , it was unsuccessful. Itachi caught and punishment was quite severe, 'angel, do you not need me anymore? Do I need to tell you who I am? '
This time however, you tried and succeeded. It was a mission in a nearby village. Being a jounin, it didn't take you long to punish those at fault however, you put your compadre into a specific genjutsu where you made him believe that you were killed by the leader. The man was terrified and took a run to tell the next uchiha leader about the mishap. You were considerate about one of his crows following you but somehow, you even managed to baffle them. The luck was on your side today. You knew you couldn't baffle itachi for long so you changed you clothes with regular arranged ones, and ran off, not knowing where to go but far, far away from itachi. Your eyes brimmed with tears as you thought about him, his smile, the way his eyes always lid up while talking to you....you were deeply and hopelessly in love with him. But this was necessary.
Finally reaching a destination you thought was safe enough, you begin your new life with a new name, changed your clothing and hairstyle. Nobody here knew who you were and that was a plus point. It's been 2 months since you saw itachi. Not a day has passed when you didn't crave his affection, his touch. You still loved him dearly and that was a problem.
One fine night while returning home from your daily job as hotel manager, you sensed a strong chakra at the entrance of your apartment. You knew this chakra all too well. Itachi! What was he here for now? Too scared to face him you decided to leave that village at that particular moment. It was quite late as you carefully turned around to make a run but were caught red handed by a red eyed itachi. His eyes glistening with anger but a hint of hurt was there as if he were disappointed. 'I think we need to talk my precious '
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''Why would you leave me alone my angel? Why don't you realise what I do is for your good, I want you to be happy.....with me, with our family. " His eyes held hurt, corners started to brim with a slight amount of water. " my sweet! I know I hurt you, but I really can't live without you. Past 2 months have been nothing but torture for me." He edged a little closer, you knew how it goes you've always gave in to his manipulative tears. Not today though. " I've been miserable Itachi." You said, all the memories flooding in , " I've loved every bit of you since the first time we met, I still do. Even after everything you put me through... i pathetically love you. Every waking hour, each breath I take, I think of you. Why? Because I am a weak pathetic women who despite everything couldn't help but love her toxic, manipulative boyfriend. Why Itachi? I could swear on my life I've never even thought of any other guy than you! I've given each and every bit of myself to you and what do I get in return? Manipulation? Distrust? Hurt? Pain? Suffering! WHY ITACHI! WHY? " you broke down, crying, screaming, a lump in your throat. Itachi stood there wide eyed. Tears falling gracefully down his now pink cheeks.
'You Hate me don't you?.......'
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iamthunderhearmehowl · 6 months
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Let me tell you about the tattoo that my mom hates (this is a long ass post btw)
✨️Trigger Warning✨️
Suicide / Depression
- - - - - -
Hey, hi, it's me. This is the only place I feel really open about sharing things - but with the holidays and cold months coming up I know how hard it can be for people who are struggling with depression/ bi polar / familial trauma, etc. So here's this post to remind you (and me) that we'll be okay. You and me. We will be okay. We are still breathing, and with every breath we take, we still have a shot at living the lives we've dreamed of.
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You see this tattoo? I got it as a reminder. Oh yeah, also it's a Dark Souls tattoo. It says "Don't You Dare Go Hollow".
My mom HATES it, but she has come to terms with how much I love this tattoo.
But anyways, I got this tattoo to remind myself to keep going. I got it about 1-2 years after I attempted to leave this earth on my own accord.
Background (skip if you want)
It was 2020. I had been a Veterinary Assistant (technician basically depending on what state you're in, TN treats the assistants the same as technicians). Clients were beating me down dude. I had phones thrown at me. I had death threats. I had people telling me I was a worthless piece of shit. I wanted to help these animal, but to do that I felt like I had to take and accept this slurry of abuse. I was unmedicated. I felt alone. I felt like I was nothing. An empty vessel. So one day I was supposed to go to work and we were working on a skeleton crew. 12 to 13 hours a day, days in a row, sometimes we would still have to go in on our off days. I couldn't do it anymore. I called out. I said I was sick. The response "I'm sorry you're sick, but that puts our team in a hard spot". That was it. The last straw.
I ended up going to the ER. I stayed there for a week. And thrn I ended up in a mental institution for 3 days. I was started on Zoloft.
All was well for a little bit. I stayed in my profession and decided to go to Tech School to brighten my future and make some more money.
It was. The most stressful time of my life. While I did leave my previous clinic I switched to ER and Specialty and lasted only about 6 months there. Before I realized I was spiraling again. I felt like a failure as a tech. I was worthless. I wasn't enough. I got let go. If I had been doing this for 5 years and could do this what fucking good was I? I saw the signs. I understood what was happening. I sought help and went to group therapy at a behavioral hospital.
It was amazing. The people I met, the counselors, I made so many friends and people who believed in me. We increased the dosage of my meds.
Now. I'm at a new clinic. I'm spiraling again. I'm in bad health. The doctors don't know what's wrong with me, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it's stress from my career. I still come home sobbing. I come home feeling empty. No amount of medication can help free me from the unhappiness of my job. At one point I loved it. Somewhere along the way I realized that this isn't the life I want. I love your pets. I love my current clients. But I can't take the pressures of possibly getting hurt or sick. My back is messed up from this job, all of my joints pop and hurt, I have damaged and fractured my teeth from grinding them from stress. I am always tired. Working 10+ hours with just a one hour break isn't cutting it. I am miserable.
So.
I took the fucking leap guys. I'm doing it. I'm switching my career. I'm going back to my roots. I'm being creative and doing what. I started podcasting and realized how much I missed being myself. My VTNE is next month and I don't give a shit.
The game changer was really being inspired by the voice acting in Baulder's Gate 3. Hearing Neil Newbon's speech when he accepted his award made me cry. I took one of Steve Blums voice acting classes and . . . My God it was like finally hearing the affirmation I never got from my parents.
Back to the Tattoo
My point is, no matter how hard it gets, please allow yourself to enjoy the things you love and fuck what everyone else says. You do yourself a disservice if you don't give yourself a break. If you don't be true to yourself, if you don't strive for the life you've dreamed of.
It's why my tattoo is the Bonfire from Dark Souls. In your journey, you're going to fail multiple times. Sometimes, you get hung up on the same damn spot over and over and over again. Sometimes, you have to reface your enemies. DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE BOSS BATTLES. You may fail thousands of times, but you know what you do? You go back to your bonfire- your safe place- and you heal up. You get the fuck back up the next day and do it again. Sometimes your game plan changes. You don't have to fight this boss today. You can fight him when you're ready. You don't have to make huge progress in the game today - you can dick around and look for good armor. You can change the whole path you take if you want to - it doesn't matter. In the end you will eventually accomplish what you've came to do.
I have really been fighting for my life lately, but I don't want to lose hope. If I give up, then I'll never see the end of the game or move on to the next one.
It's hard sometimes. But my favorite quote is:
"So if you ever find yourself in a slump, remember your purpose - whatever it may be - and never stop fighting for your goals, no matter how crazy they may seem. And don't you dare go hollow"
I don't know you guys but I love you. And if you need someone to tell you that personally my inboxes are open.
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dreamyfanfix · 9 months
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Chapter 5: Long Gone But Not Moved On
Sorry, I know this is late but I was writing and kept writing and then I had 15K words. I eventually found a stoppage point but it required me to write a bit around some things especially because this chapter and the next are a bit miserable for the pair. It will get better though...
--
Present:
It had been a couple of days since Kate had a near miss with Anthony in the hospital. Learning about how much of a bad time he had been having since they were forced to see each other again was not something she took lightly. Kate barely remembered what happened after her breakup with Anthony. All she remembered was deep pain and then almost being lucid again 5 months later with a puppy named Newton and an urge to do better.
Seeing Anthony again was not easy for her either but unlike Kate, Anthony had moved on and so even though it hurt her to see him with Siena and hear about his dalliances from gossipers, Kate kept her head down and tried to be a good ex-girlfriend.
Kate had gotten messages and missed calls from Daphne and Simon. Kate knew that avoiding Simon would be too difficult hence why she found herself in Agatha Danbury's office this early morning.
Kate had just handed Agatha her notice and Agatha was surprised and irritated, to say the least.
"I thought we agreed you would give me more time to discuss with the shareholders about promoting you," Agatha said sternly.
"We did but things changed. I think it would be best if I moved on," Kate said with what she hoped was finality.
"If this is what that Bridgerton boy said to you at my godson's baby shower then you must know that I gave him and his mother a stern talking to,"
"I don't doubt it but you know I wanted to move more into family law. Do not get me wrong I think we have done a good job rattling the feathers of the elite but now I think it's time I get to work on fighting with the less fortunate," Kate said.
"You are making me regret investing in your friend's firm," Agatha chuckled.
"You won't regret it. Sophie is more determined than me when it comes to this stuff and it will be a challenge but I have always done my best as a solicitor when I was the underdog," Kate said chuckling a bit.
"I guess I have to understand that thought myself," Agatha continued "I accept your notice, Kate," Agatha stood up to shake Kate's hand and Kate stood up to take it.
"Thank you. You have been an incredible mentor all these years," Kate said emotionally.
"Hush now child, you will shine just fine on your own. And if not there will always be a place for you here at Danbury Law," Agatha said.
"Thank you again," Kate said and made to leave but not before asking the question she has had on her mind since she first started at Danbury Law "Why is the firm called Danbury Law?" Agatha turned to face Kate again and looked at her with an arched brow "Why not name it Agatha Law or Soma Law after your maiden name?"
Agatha sighed and then said "You must know I am a proud West African woman but my relationship with my past is not that positive I'm afraid," Agatha took a breath and continued "I grew up in a small village in Sierra Leone, my family did not have much of money, prospects or connections. When I was 8 years old I was attending church with my parents when a man came to town, he was from a village over but he got adopted by a British family and was visiting his country of birth. He took one look at me and proclaimed me the most beautiful girl in the world. Naturally, this is not an uncommon thing I had heard when I was younger but he was hyper-fixated on me, he made me laugh and promised my parents he would come back to marry me... My parents were thrilled," Agatha paused to take a seat behind her desk "From then onwards I was raised to be his wife, he would send letters with his interests, likes and dislikes and my parents would make sure I would know all of these things and submit to his lead. After the death of his benefactors slash parents, of which he received a hefty inheritance, he came back to Sierra Leone and married me, exactly like he promised he would,"
Kate slowly walked back into the room and took a seat opposite Agatha's desk "That seems like a fairytale,"
Agatha smirked "That's what all the society women would say when we came back husband and wife, Lord and Lady Danbury," Agatha sighed and continued "You see back in the eighties people were not that particular about age gaps. I was a 19-year-old girl married to a 42-year-old man. To society I was just indicative of how men crave young flesh and young women are opportunists. They didn't see the possible terrible dynamic I was in... See I was dependent on my husband, Sierra Leone was not exactly the most stable political environment and despite my decrepit husband, and I hope you don't mind my candour here, constant copulating his young wife, I liked England. I liked the freedom that I had and what hindered me because of my race, my new wealth and my title would sort out no problem. I did my duty, I gave him 4 children, 2 sons and 2 daughters, who wished for nothing and lived their lives well-off,"
"So it was a mutually beneficial relationship? Not quite unheard of, especially in my culture, although not as romantic as one might think. I guess your loyalty to your married life is why you keep the name Danbury Law," Kate said.
"Oh no. I may hate my family for pawning off on an old man but I despised the late Lord Danbury," Agatha held her hand up to stop Kate from interrupting her and continued "I loathed the late Lord Danbury, so I use my wealth and influence to fund all things he would have hated when he was alive. My husband was one of those Black people who enjoyed being the only one in the room and hated the idea of educating women and desegregating the classes as well as spent his time fighting AGAINST well-rounded immigration policies particularly people from former colonies which was incredibly awful considering Sierra Leone was one itself,"
Kate took a calming breath while Agatha looked off into the distance "I still don't understand why you would then want anything to do with him,"
"It's not enough to fund movements and bills that would help dismantle everything my husband held dear, no, I have to do it using his name so he will always be associated with it. Most people, like yourself, live their life to honour their families, and make them proud and in a lot of ways I am doing the same. I do what I am doing because it's important to me that wherever Herman is he rots and whatever kind of legacy he thought he was building gets overshadowed by the work I am doing. I want to make sure that future generations including my children, will think of me when they think of Danbury and all the work I have done to dismantle this terrible inequitable society,"
"I think that's an honourable vision," Kate said, feeling emotional and proud at the same time. Lady Agatha Danbury was a badass, it is just a shame that she had to go through so much to be that way.
----
Past:
Anthony was on cloud nine. Kate and Anthony had been together for 5 months and they would be making their first public appearance as a couple, at a benefit being held by Bridgerton Investment Group, and he couldn't be more happy. He looked at himself one more time in the mirror and then checked his watch for the time. He and Kate would be late if he did not check on her soon. She was not good with time but that is why he usually got her going early to get ready because he had timed her preparation times and averaged them out to understand how long she generally needed to get ready.
It was super analytical but he also knew that Kate appreciated being a bit more on time to things so he felt secure in his efforts.
As Anthony made his way to his bathroom, Kate came over to get ready as he was nervous she would back out and she was nervous that they would not look good together.
Anthony was not nervous about this event, he had been to millions of events like these but he knew Kate was feeling nervous because she had never really interacted with wealthy people unless they were on the opposite side of the courtroom. Kate was close friends with Simon but Simon had a way of keeping things close to the chest so there was no way of knowing if she knew the full extent of these events.
He knocked on the door to his master bathroom and entered. Kate was busy with her makeup but Anthony could not focus, she looked incredible. She was wearing a light pink dress that hugged her curves as well showing off her cleavage.
"Uhmmm babe you're staring," Kate said, he had not even noticed she was looking at him through the mirror and slightly blushed.
Anthony walked up behind her and kissed her neck "I was just thinking about how stunning you look," Anthony said nipping at her neck. He took a whiff of her neck and she stopped, he could see the goosebumps travel up her neck and he felt full of himself for a moment.
"If you continue like that we are going to be late," she said trying to sound stern but it came out breathless Anthony chuckled but backed out of the room.
--
The benefit was a success at least Anthony thought it was. He was currently having a drink with his friends, no cigars because Kate hated the smell, and his friends were ribbing him about the fact.
When he and Kate first arrived there seemed to be hesitation in their reception but as they went around the room and said their hellos, many people seemed to relax and commented on how well they complemented each other so he relaxed and eventually he felt confident enough to leave Kate to her mingling and went to catch up with some old friends of his.
Simon finally put out his cigar and Anthony took a breath, even though he was not smoking himself, he knew the smoke in the room could linger on him "So Bridgerton, you and Sharma doing good?" Simon asked.
"Yeah Bridgerton, you seem to be taken completely out of commission these days," Marcus Fife commented.
"What can I say, gents? I'm happy," Anthony stated trying not to blush and shrug.
"Well, then it makes sense curry is the national dish, then? I might get me one of those," Conrad Pemberton remarked.
"Excuse me?" Anthony said as his blood turned to ice.
"Pemberton, Chicken Tikka Masala is the national dish you idiot," Fife exclaimed.
"Okay, so how do I get me one of those Tikka Masala's Bridgerton?" Pemberton said with a chuckle.
Pemberton stopped talking the minute Anthony got in his face, he was angry beyond belief and was shocked at how much his old friends could be so cavalier with their racism "Pemberton speak about my girlfriend or any Indian like that again and I will pummel you just like in sixth form,"
Fife came between the two men and said "Relax Bridge, I know you are going through your Prince Harry phase but eventually, you got to do your duty like the rest of us heirs and marry yourself a Kate Middleton," 
Simon who had left the room to go to the bathroom was back and asked "You all know Kate Middleton is already married, right?"
Anthony was trying and failing at calming himself down and Anthony thought Simon could see his distress but did not comment on it "I was just telling Bridgerton that eventually he's gotta settle down, right?" Pemberton said with a bit of smugness that Anthony did not like and he narrowed his eyes.
Simon looked between Anthony to Pemberton and asked "Is that not what you are doing with Kate? Settling down?"
Anthony knew Simon cared deeply for Kate so he was probably asking more for himself than Pemberton "Of course I am. I would not bring her as my date if I was not serious about her,"
Simon nodded his head "Oh come off it Bridge, this has to be a piss-take. You are a man of a particular taste," Fife said
Anthony was now full-blown seething but asked "What the hell does that even mean?"
"I don't know but we definitely haven't seen you eat an Indian meal before mate so colour us curious," Fife said with his hands up.
"Anthony goes for the women he finds attractive, he does not date based on race," Simon said trying to de-escalate the situation "Maybe, we should change topics?" he suggested.
"Okay fine, but mate let me know if Kate has any friends or a sister, I would love to have a taste of the national dish," Pemberton said chuckling.
Anthony was not sure what happened next but Anthony had to be hoisted off of Pemberton by Simon. Pemberton's face and Anthony's knuckles were bloody and Fife was laughing in the corner.
Simon dragged Anthony into a separate room and left him to cool off, at least that is what he thought until he returned with Kate and his mother.
"Anthony darling, are you alright?" Violet asked "We heard there was a tussle that occurred,"
While his mother stayed close to the door and looked at him curiously Kate came closer to him to inspect him, touching his face and Anthony felt better but also sick with guilt at the same time.
"Well I'm not sure if it was a tussle or more like a one-sided beatdown," Simon remarked.
"Well you don't look injured, so who did you hit?" Kate asked but Anthony did not reply, he could not reply. He just is not sure how he would explain to Kate how his ex-friends spoke about her and women of her race. He was disgusted with himself so he remained silent.
Simon who thought this was a conversation that should not be in public suggested "Maybe we should leave the benefit,"
"We can't leave they have not even gotten around to announcing how much money was raised tonight," Violet said seeming concerned.
"Violet, by now everyone knows what happened so I don't think there will be more or less gossip if Anthony just leaves a bit earlier," Simon said smoothly.
"Anthony, what happened?" Kate asked so gently that Anthony's heart broke all over again.
"It was just some old form mates saying some dumb stuff, Anthony's had a few drinks so he just lost his temper," Simon said trying to help Anthony so he did not have to have this conversation in a room at a public benefit that was still ongoing.
"Well, what did he say, Anthony? What could he have possibly said to excuse your deplorable behaviour?" Violet asked and Anthony stiffened, he knew that tone coming from his mother, it was dripping with disapproval.
"There were some things I did not agree with so I got mad," Anthony said softly.
"Anthony most of the gentlemen here have been your chums for decades, what could they have possibly said that angered you so?" Violet asked.
Anthony stayed silent but then Kate asked "They said something about me didn't they?"
Anthony's head turned to her and she was looking in his eyes not with judgement but with like resolved and sad eyes. Anthony swallowed and nodded his head.
"Well, Anthony boys will be boys. I've heard you and your brothers say some appalling things about women but I do not resort to roughness to correct you," Violet said.
"Well maybe you should have," Kate said in a soft voice but she knew that his mother probably heard her. She remained looking at her hands.
"It wasn't just some misogynistic comments Mother, of which I have aged out of making," Anthony said the last part looking at Kate and imploring her to look up at him but she never did so he continued "There was also a racial aspect to their comments,"
Anthony could feel Kate stiffen beside him and he held his breath. There was silence in the room but just when it felt like Anthony would scream just so someone would say something Kate stood up and said "Good then. It's sorted,"
"I'm sorry. What do you mean it's sorted? Anthony has to apologise to the guests and to the gentleman he hurt," Violet said looking at Kate confused.
"Look Violet, Anthony can make the rounds on his way to apologise for causing a commotion but he does not owe a racist misogynist any apology," Kate said.
"Kate, I know you don't know how these things work but in our society, it's very important that a level of politeness and manners are maintained," Violet said.
"So he gets to make racist comments about his friend's girlfriend but when said friend stands up for his girlfriend, the friend is the one deemed the ill-mannered and rude one?" Kate asked using her solicitor's voice, normally Anthony would be turned on by it but now he felt his mother might not be able to stand against Kate and he was nervous "Violet we are all in the same society just because you choose to interact with only certain members of it does not mean that we are not meant to be held to the same standard. Just like with Mayfair Girls,"
Violet scoffed "This isn't a high school. This is real life and this is just how things are done,"
"Maybe that's the problem," Kate remarked.
"That's enough," Anthony finally said and stood up "Simon, I know you hate these types of things but if you could please find my secretary Freddy and get the numbers for the benefit and give them to Benedict so he can announce them," Simon nodded and left the room "Mother don't worry I will send an apology to Conrad Pemberton and make sure that I will cover any medical and dry cleaning expenses," His mother looked satisfied "Kate, I think we should make a quiet exit out of the back the entrance," He went to grab her hand but she looked at him funny and walked to the door.
Anthony sighed and followed her but before he made it to the open door, his mother spoke "Anthony, I will make sure Freddy gets your jackets and gets the car to come around for you," Anthony nodded his head at his mother and went to follow Kate.
The car ride back to his home was silent but if Anthony was honest, it was a silence he needed. He was busy writing emails and texts. As much as it pained him he had written apologies to Pemberton as well as the board and planners of the benefit for any disruptions and made promises to make it up to them and behave better in the future. It was generic and so insincere but he knew it had to be done.
When they finally got back to his place, Kate got out of the car before Robert could come around to open it and Anthony jumped out to follow her in. Kate's long legs carried her into his place and when he entered a while after her she was already out of her dress and packing her things.
Anthony asked, "Babe, what are you doing?"
"Don't babe me Anthony. Not after tonight," Kate said and she continued to aggressively pack things into her bag.
"I understand why you are mad," Anthony said, he knew the idea of being associated with someone like Fife and Pemberton might decrease her level of respect for him but he hoped she had known him better by now.
"I don't think you do, but humour me. Tell me why you think I am mad at you," Kate said turning to him and folding her arms.
Anthony sighed "Look what Fife and Pemberton were saying tonight is not actually what I think or a reflection of who I am. I barely see those guys I wouldn't even call them friends,"
Kate scoffed "Anthony, let's just say I was able to get over you ordering me about. What about me makes you think I would be okay with you apologising to a racist?"
Anthony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache was forming "Kate, you don't understand,"
"Actually, I think I understand better than you. It wasn't racist comments made about you or your family so it's fine then?"
"I didn't say it was fine but I should not have lost my temper," Anthony exclaimed. Why did she not understand?
"You lost your temper because you care for me and I hoped that you cared about shutting down racists!"
"I do care!"
"Then why did you spend so much effort and time sending apologies to those racists after the fact?"
"It's important to maintain a level of politeness with important people in society," Anthony said a bit more level-headed.
"More important than defending me and people that look like me?" Kate asked and Anthony noted the tears in her eyes. He tried to approach her but she took a step back "Standing up to your enemies is easy but it takes greater courage to stand up to your friends. Before you sent off your little apologetic emails, everyone at the benefit would have known where you stood on racism, where you stood on us,"
Anthony felt like things were spiralling and he was struggling to keep up, Kate looked hurt and it hurt him "Kate I am against racism. I did stand up for us,"
"For 30 minutes, then you were apologising as if a person being a racist is a minor inconvenience and not something morally wrong,"
Anthony was panicking now, Kate sounded so sad then "It's not like hitting him was going to change the world,"
"But it would have changed my world, Anthony. I'm not a fool I see how people look at us sometimes but at least I thought I was in this with someone who had my back, that we were a team... And now, I just need time to think about what we are as a couple,"
Anthony could barely breathe but as Kate continued packing Anthony went to stop her hands "Kate, please stop. Just wait a minute here. I'm still the same guy, the man who loves you. What can I do to make this right?" The question he asked came out with a broken voice that even he could hear.
"It's alright Anthony, I think I just need time to resolve the kind of guy you are with the one I had in my head," She was full-blown crying now and Anthony sniffed his tears away.
"Okay okay. I will give you some space just... Please know that I do love you, and that... I'm sorry," Anthony said in a small voice.
Kate had her back turned to him and all he could see was her nodding her head as she continued to pack.
Kate called her mother, Mary, to tell her she would be coming home, so she called an Uber. Anthony tried to change her mind but then she told him her mother wanted to track her trip considering the time of night. They sat in silence for 5 minutes waiting for the Uber and Anthony could not stop taking glances at Kate. Her tears eventually dried and she looked resolute and then she was gone out of his home.
The minute Anthony turned around after seeing Kate to her Uber, he looked at his empty apartment and felt hollow. Anthony was used to apologising to keep the peace whether that was at work, with his mother, his siblings or with women. This was the first time keeping the peace seemed foolish. 
--
"Edwina would you give me back my shoe, I'm gonna be late to meet Anthony," Kate shouted at her sister's door while knocking on it.
Even though it was muffled Kate heard her sister yell on the other side of the door "No! Anthony is a dickhead! I don't want you to go to lunch with him and forgive him!"
"Edwina language!" Mary shouted from the living room.
"It's true mama! He let his friends say horrible things about Kate and all Indian women,"
"Edwina you need to stop eavesdropping on the conversations Kate and I are having," Mary said walking into the hallway until she stood side-by-side with Kate.
"Bon, he didn't let anyone say anything he beat him up remember?" Kate said, feeling the need to defend Anthony. It was important to keep her emotions focused on the things he did and not contort the past with negative emotions.
"Yeah, but he apologised to that racist ars- egghead. Relationships should not be so hard," Edwina said.
Kate sighed, she did not want to disillusion her sister "Bon, life is not like those romance books you read, they are hard and require understanding from both sides,"
Mary sighed "Your sister is right, my love. If I steered clear of hard relationships I would not have married your father and had 19 years of wedded bliss,"
Edwina unlocked her door and opened it slightly "I guess you're right," she handed Kate her shoe but before Kate could thank her the doorbell rang.
Edwina immediately sprinted to the front of the house, Kate tried to run after her but one of her shoes was not put on right so she had to stop.
By the time Kate and Mary got to the front door, Anthony was bouncing while holding his foot, like he was in pain. "Edwina, what did you do?" Kate asked.
"Why do you assume I did anything? Did I hurt you, Anthony?" Edwina asked with a fake sweet voice.
"No, and even if she did it's not like I didn't deserve it," Anthony said standing properly.
"As long as we are on the same page," Edwina said as she walked back to her room.
Mary sighed and followed her "I'm sorry Anthony. I'll talk to her," she said before she left.
Kate turned to Anthony and for the first time noticed the flowers in his hands "Are those for me?"
Anthony jumped and handed her the flowers "Yes, although I feel I should have brought some for your sister and your mother," he looked self-conscious for a moment.
Kate took the flowers and sniffed them before making to leave "It's good that you didn't. Edwina is allergic. I usually keep flowers in my room. At first, it was cause it reminded me of India but then it was to keep Edwina out of my room and now it just makes me feel better to see and smell them,"
"You never told me that," he said as they made their way down the stairs.
"It's not a big deal," Kate said as she shrugged. She was feeling nervous as this was the first time she had been alone with Anthony since their fight.
Kate had been a bit withdrawn when she got back from the benefit, Mary knew not to ask questions when she got back and just helped her change and go to sleep. It wasn't until she had gotten angry at Edwina unnecessarily that Mary sat her down to talk. She cried as Mary held her and they spoke about that night and about racism. Mary knew better than anyone what people thought about mixed-race couples as she was the offspring of one but Mary said she felt like Anthony was special. Mary told Kate it was more important that his first instinct was to defend Kate. It might seem like he went back on it later but societal pressure is immense and it can even make it so that the best of people make bad decisions. Mary made Kate giggle when she said Kate came out of the womb with a backbone of steel but others are not as lucky and that it is always important to lead with understanding and grace especially when the other person is trying.
6 days later Kate was still working on it but she finally texted Anthony back. 
As they made their way to the pathway, Kate turned to walk down the street but Anthony looked like he wanted to get to his car. "Oh, I thought we could get a quick coffee at this cafe nearby. It's usually quiet around this time, so I thought we could talk," Kate said.
Anthony looked hesitant "Oh sure,"
"Unless you already had a place in mind," Kate said nervously.
"No, we can go to the cafe. I want you to be comfortable," Anthony said.
Kate nodded and she led him to the cafe. 
Kate was right the place was quiet, mostly because the owners: The Gunningworths were not the most friendly people. Richard Gunningworth was a renowned lawyer who had 3 daughters. The only biological daughter he had was Sophie, a friend of Kate's. When Kate spoke to Sophie about finding neutral ground for her and Anthony to talk Sophie suggested they meet when Sophie was working her shift.
Kate and Anthony spoke. It was stilted at first but when Anthony blurted out that he did not want to break up, Kate was taken aback.
"Anthony I'm not going to break up with you," Anthony nodded and Kate could see his body visibly relax and she felt guilty. Communication with her partners was not something she was great at but she hoped she would be better because she loved Anthony more than any other man she had been with. Kate took his hands and said "I just wanted to discuss why I was so hurt that night," Anthony nodded and she continued "I've spent the last 10 years of my life fighting for a better society for people like me and other minorities. It's not an easy job and even though I know I'm morally and ethically in the right people still treat me like I'm a pariah. Like I'm the bad guy for trying to make the world fair... Even you did at first," Kate put her hand up to stop him before he spoke "I'm not trying to take a shot at you, I'm just trying to be honest. Being right is a lonely place and I have often hidden behind the fact that despite being alone I was right but it doesn't keep you warm at night,"
"You have me. You are not alone. I can keep you warm," Anthony said softly.
Kate smiled even though she was a bit emotional "I want to know that. I want to believe it with every bone in my body but I'm just not sure. You have a set of rules you live your life by and I don't think it's always going to align with the way I live mine but I'm willing to compromise some,"
Anthony's eyes widened "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Just that even though you did apologise to your friends-"
"They are not my friends," Anthony interjected almost growling "Sorry,"
Kate sighed and continued "Even though you did apologise to those guys after defending me, I have to give you grace because your first instinct was to defend me. I just hope it was not just because I was your girlfriend but because what they said was just wrong,"
Anthony sighed and looked down "Kate... I don't- I don't know. I wish I could say it was but I'm not sure... I'm sorry,"
"It's okay. There is no way of knowing anyway. I love you and as long as your first instincts are to protect me then I can't be that mad, can I?"
"I don't want you to feel like you are giving up being a good person to be with me. Not when your strength of character is one of the main reasons I love you in the first place," Anthony said squeezing her hands.
"I know. I'm not. I am just going to adjust to the way things are done in your world," Kate said squeezing his hands back and Anthony nodded.
Anthony smiled "How did you get so well adjusted?"
"My parents and a good therapist. I can recommend one if you like not the one I see but someone who would be next on the list if I ever break up with my current one. Therapy does wonders," Kate suggested.
"I think I'm going to take you up on that offer. I think it will be good for us," Anthony said.
"It will be good for you, and that's what is important," Kate said smiling.
It wasn't this big declaration of extreme devotion and love that most people would expect from romantic comedies but Kate loved Anthony and she was happy to adjust certain aspects of her thoughts and reactions especially because Anthony was always changing for and because of her. In relationships, it was important to meet halfway and Kate was happily back with Anthony so what was the big deal? He was going to go to therapy and work on himself and in the meantime, Kate would give him grace.
---
For the last month and a half, things between Kate and Anthony returned to relative normalcy. Kate had noticed she was still not invited to brunch with Anthony's family but she tried not to take too much offence considering Anthony wanted her there but his mother was in charge of organising it every month. That being said every time she would bump into one of his siblings and they asked her why he did not attend or what she missed out on, she wondered if her and Anthony's relationship was seen as a serious thing to his mother, yet.
Before Kate could bring it up though, Anthony invited her to an event held by his grandmother, his mother's mother, Dowager Lady Ledger. This was a big deal because every one of the Bridgertons and Ledgers was going to be there and Kate would finally meet all of Anthony's family.
It was only fair, right? Anthony had met all of Kate's family. All 2 of them. Kat often thought about what her father would think of Anthony, would he see him as a random rich guy or would he see the caring guy underneath? Kate tried not to get too deep in her What Ifs because they just made her sad.
Kate smoothed down her dress. It was an afternoon event but Kate was still nervous. Luckily Daphne was available for shopping since she had to take a reluctant Eloise, so she tagged along and got herself a very nice dress. A very expensive dress but Daphne said that Anthony was fitting the bill, which did not sit well with her Kate knew there was no way she could borrow a dress like she did at the last big event especially when it was so important she made a good impression. 
So Kate settled on a colour-blocking Versace almost-mini dress. She looked great but also daring. The colours suited her skin tone and showed off her best asset: her legs.
Kate knew Anthony was nervous about this event. She hoped they could avoid drama but she knew that could not control everything. Even when Kate left home, Mary looked on edge.
Kate smoothed her dress while she sat at the back of the car, driven by Robert.
Anthony grabbed her hand and said "The dress looks stunning. You look stunning. Don't worry,"
"Sorry. It's just that today is an important day," Kate said looking at him.
"It's just a party like any other babe," he said.
Kate tried to calm down but before she could reply, Robert informed them that they had arrived.
Getting into the event was relatively more smooth and casual than the benefit and Kate quickly found a group of women to talk to. Some of them were rich and/or titled but the two that Kate bonded with were a doctor and a florist. Jennifer and Rebecca were married and partnered respectively with Fife and another guy named Michael Stirling. Rebecca was by far the youngest and she looked incredibly uncomfortable whereas Jennifer who despite having a similar background to Kate fit in because she was well-respected as a doctor.
Kate spent a lot of time talking with the two women and when Jennifer went off to use the loo, Jennifer leaned in and said "She's not gonna last,"
Kate who was sipping her drink at the time almost choked and asked "Why do you say that? I mean I know they are young but they look cute,"
"They are always cute but Michael does not stay with them for long," Jennifer said.
"Oh that's a shame," Kate said.
"Not really, she does not exactly know what she is getting herself into with these kinds of people," Jennifer said and Kate hummed her agreement. There was a lot of money and prestige flying around the room and even though Kate was not a part of it she had years of experience holding her own around people like this "You look like you got the memo though,"
Kate looked at Jennifer surprised and chuckled "I mean I guess. I don't have to do much,"
"Yeah, but that's good. At the benefit, you were wind up tight and Anthony was the same. Hence all the unpleasantness," Jennifer said casually.
Kate was confused by the remark. She was not sure what she knew "As long as people keep their racism to themselves I'm sure we will all be fine,"
"I mean to be fair my husband and Conrad were complimenting you,"
Kate's blood ran cold "Excuse me?"
"Look I've been there myself when I first married my husband but I realised that you have got to let them be themselves and do what they want so your relationship can be strong,"
Kate stood up and made her face stoic "Just because you are okay with being disrespected by your husband and his mates does not mean that is something I am okay with,"
"You say that as if they are not Anthony's mates as well. My husband, Conrad and Anthony go back years. It only makes sense that they would make up over a little disagreement," Jennifer said smiling and Kate could finally see how arrogant it looked, it leaned more into a sneer.
"Anthony being forced to make civilities with them does not mean he condones their behaviour," Kate said straightening her back to defend her boyfriend.
"My dear, I guess Rebecca is not the only one who is unaware. Anthony did not seem to have issues with My husband or Conrad at last week's polo match or a month ago at the Smythe-Smith musicale," Jennifer took out her phone and showed Kate pictures of the group of men smiling and laughing and Kate's stomach churned.
Kate walked away briskly until she made it to the loo and threw up the contents of her stomach, which unfortunately because food had not been served yet, was not much.
Kate cleaned herself up and looked at herself in the mirror. Anthony had lied to her? Well he had not lied, he merely omitted what he had done. What did it matter anyways Kate, knew Anthony had to make amends with those arses, she just did not know Anthony was having such a good time doing so. She felt like she had been sucker punched. She felt foolish and mostly sad, Anthony had to keep a part of his life from her maybe because he was ashamed but maybe because he did not want to be judged by her. She tried to find the grace she promised to give to him and was resolute to bring it up to him at a later date. Today was about impressing the Bridgertons and the Ledgers so she focused on that.
Kate spent the rest of the night schmoozing and putting on her best personality traits. Eventually, the woman of the hour showed up: Dowager Lady Ledger. Kate could not help but note how she looked old but not frail, stern and a little unfriendly. Kate wondered if it was wrong of her to notice the fact that her smile mirrored a lot of the women in the room: insincere.
Anthony introduced Kate to his grandmother and she remarked "Wow, you are beautiful,"
Kate smiled "Thank you. Of course, the only beauty people have their eyes on today is you,"
"Well thank you for flattering an old lady like myself, dear," she said.
"Is it flattery when it's the truth?" Anthony said and all the women laughed.
Lady Ledger took her hand and put it on his face "What a handsome charmer,"
"Thank you, grandmother," Anthony said "I love you,"
Lady Ledger smiled sweetly and was escorted around the rest of the room by Anthony's mother and brother, Colin.
Kate felt like she could take a breath "That went well didn't it?" Anthony said.
"Yeah, I'm glad she at least thinks I'm pretty," Kate said.
"Babe, you are the most beautiful woman ever. Now I would never say that to her because I fear her but you know that," Anthony said as he kissed the side of her head and Kate felt giddy.
All of a sudden the idea of what had happened with Jennifer earlier seemed like a dream and what she had with Anthony was the reality she needed to focus on.
--
Later as the party winded down and the little sun they had gotten dwindled to dark greys, Kate was happily dancing with Benedict when Anthony cut in.
"Are you having a good time?" Anthony asked as they swayed together to the music.
"Surprisingly, yes. Your siblings are hilarious and I like them," Kate said laying her head on his shoulder.
"Thank you," Anthony said.
"For what?" Kate asked.
"For accepting all of this. My family. Me. I know it's not exactly the best example of how to use wealth but it's important to me to maintain our family's name. I hope it's not too much,"
"Anthony, of course. I love you. The rest is just noise," Kate said.
Anthony kissed Kate softly. She could hear some camera's going off but she didn't care for once.
It was then that Violet tapped Anthony on the shoulder "Can the both of you come with me?" she asked and Kate felt dread.
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softpine · 7 months
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For me the note was kind of irrelevant like it shows that Asa really didn't intend to hurt himself and just thought he was going on a litte jaunt to go find Finn but in reality whether he reveals his abilities or not it's a red flag that he's willing to hurt himself over a boy and I think you've said in the past that Beth wouldn't believe him and I'm sorry Asa but in their eyes this is the second attempt to take his own life even if he didn't mean to hurt himself and this is just a casual (?) s
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i see where you're coming from, but i hope it's coming across that asa isn't doing this just for finn. i totally understand that the way i've been joking about this situation isn't doing asa any favors. i'm someone who's been affected by suicide and have felt at least passively suicidal myself for almost as long as i can remember, so i sometimes don't know how to talk about this stuff in a normal way lol
there's some stuff in your message i can't talk about yet without spoilers, but i would like to clarify asa's intentions. he may not be trying to die, but he understands it's a possibility and he's more than okay with that risk. in his eyes, he'll either find finn or die trying. that may be unconscionable to some people, and i understand that, but there's no way to get around the fact that feeling suicidal makes you a more selfish person. it just does. it's no one's fault, it's not meant to harm anyone but yourself, but the very nature of suicide means you're putting your own pain above anyone else's. please know that i only feel comfortable saying this because i've been on both sides and i know how it feels.
so to explain more about how asa feels, here's an example from my own life (this is a long ass trauma dump but stick with me if you can stomach it lmao):
when i started college, i chose to live in the dorms even though it wasn't required and was not covered under my scholarship, so i'd be paying for it out of pocket (i still am). i was so scared to leave my family and pets behind, but i thought the dorms would be an easy way to make friends on day one. none of my friends went to the same college as me, in fact my best friend went to school an hour away, which may as well have been across the country considering neither of us had a car. i signed up for a 2-person dorm room with a connected bathroom that i would share with 2 other people. but when i moved in, i was the ONLY person in that block of rooms for MONTHS. it was incredibly lonely. the whole dorm culture was nothing like i expected; everyone kept to themselves, no one left their doors open, the common rooms were dead zones, even at the dorm events/parties no one wanted to talk to me. i was just miserable. i felt like there must be something wrong with me if i couldn't make friends in a place that was literally created for making friends. and then i started to realize that every reason i had to stay alive was sort of gone now. before, i knew i couldn't kill myself because i didn't want my family to find me, i didn't want a huge deal to be made at my high school, i had a job i loved (but i got let go right before college), and i just generally didn't want to create trouble for anyone. but in my dorm? i was totally anonymous. if anyone found my body, it would be an RA whose name i didn't even remember. all my stuff was already packed into a few boxes i never bothered to unpack. in my mind, there was nothing keeping me here. it all culminated in this one random day which had started out completely normal. i bought a bunch of halloween decorations from the dollar store and i started decorating the outside of my dorm door, and i was finally feeling excited for the first time in a while, when my RA came over and made me take it all down. at that point, i was just done. i took all the decorations down and i went inside my room and i was so completely fucking ready to die. and i know that might be hard to understand for anyone who has never felt suicidal before, because like... they're cheap halloween decorations. but they were the last straw for me. now obviously i'm still here today because my plans got interrupted (actually it was a random phone call from my best friend, telling me she hated her school and wanted to know if it was too late to transfer and become my roommate; it was like something out of a movie), which i'm so fucking thankful for. but in that moment, i was ready to give up. and if things had gone my way, it would've seemed like i killed myself over $10 worth of halloween decorations.
how does this relate to asa and finn? well, losing finn is just his last straw. if asa's life was more normal than it is, he would be able to grieve the loss of a loved one and move forward with his life. it would be difficult, but he could do it with time. but given everything else going on inside his head, he simply couldn't bear one more thing. and finn is a pretty big thing. so on the outside, it may seem like asa is hurting himself over a boy, but it's not really about the boy. it's not really about the halloween decorations. it's just the last straw. and when you've hit your limit, nothing else matters. you'll start to convince yourself that no one cares about you anyway, and if they do, they'll forget about you soon enough. you can't apply real logic to these situations. but trust me, it will feel so silly when you're in a better place and you look back on all the awful, untrue things your brain said to you. and i hope you'll be able to see that through asa in the future!
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this came in right as i was about to hit post jfksjds but don't worry, i didn't take it in a rude way!! you're exactly right that the note won't make anyone feel better; in fact stevie is the only person who will be able to tell what it even means. which is just further proof that asa doesn't grasp the full weight of his actions or how they will affect other people :(
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fox-bright · 1 year
Text
Right after Easter, twenty years ago this month, my mentor sent me a one-way ticket to Pittsburgh, PA, and saved my life.
I'd been more or less disowned a year and a half before--my mother threw me out on the ninth of September, 2001--and I was drowning in sand. I am not a creature of the desert, even if I was raised there, and my hometown was not a loving place for almost anyone to be. And while multiple friends and coworkers had by that point felt it necessary to stop me when I was idly talking about my week and say you know, you don't have to accept this treatment. You know, I believe she loves you, or thinks she does, but that's not GOOD ENOUGH when she treats you like she does, I hadn't yet really come to accept that my mother is who she is. I was miserable, and lonely, and not even allowed to visit  my siblings unless Mom was there, because "I don't know what you'd talk to them about, and I don't think you're righteous."
(I might, it's true, have talked to them about how I was queer. I was more likely to have talked to them about Final Fantasy or something, but I guess we'll never know.)
Mom threw me out when I was nearly nineteen. At twenty, Diane sent me a plane ticket. Her voice down the phone--I'd never heard it before, in the years that I'd been part of the young writer's forum she moderated, the internet back then was mostly text--was warm and gentle and peaceable. I found a room for you, she said. I have friends who can help you get a job. She sent me a Greyhound ticket to Phoenix (along with thirteen dollars in cash, because you could pay extra and give the recipient up to half the value of the ticket) and a plane ticket from Sky Harbor to PIT. I was scared and unsure, but I was so, so tired of being hungry. So tired of not knowing for sure where I was going to sleep next week. And sick at heart from my mother's behavior ("Did you sleep with him?" she asked me, about my fiance; when I quietly but unashamedly said I had, she pulled me forty feet by my braid, her acrylic fingernails digging bleeding grooves into my scalp that ached for months, scars I probably still have). I'd been so comprehensively heartbroken already that I didn't know how I'd survive it, and the trick to surviving suicidality is, do anything else. Even if it means you leave your whole life behind.
And I knew I'd miss my siblings, but fuck, I missed them already, so what the hell.
I got on the bus. I got on the plane. I touched down in the aftermath of a late snowstorm, and I didn't have a coat, and the air felt sharp and tasted like clouds. And Diane was there, smiling, and she started talking and didn't stop until she'd deposited me in my new home.
And then, having gotten me to Pittsburgh, she gave me everything. Took me to this meetup and that interesting park, introduced me to everyone she knew, constantly finagled and jostled and gently prodded me through anxiety and discomfort and into growth and learning and maturity. She took me to doctors and the dentist, which my mother had neglected or denied me when I begged (I was twenty the first time I ever went to a dentist; that's four or five solid years after I started telling my mother that I really needed to see one). She took me shopping for work clothes, and made suggestions about styling and my hair that would help child-sized, baby-faced me look a little more formidable. She didn't, ever, overstep; she always seemed magically to know when it was time to let go and watch me baby-stumble for a while until my feet were steady under me. I was such a very young twenty, half-feral, poorly-socialized and just about absolutely ignorant of how people should behave, and she never once made me feel ashamed of myself.
I've been thinking about this a lot this week. Twenty years. Half my life, just about precisely. All the things I've gotten to do since then--travel; take up a martial art and train and train until I competed on the national level; become an artist's model in paintings all over the world; perform lion dance for a ballet with the love of my life literally supporting me, throwing me into the air; learn to garden and to preserve my own food and to quilt and crochet and put up drywall and take down ancient varnish and unfreeze a pipe and make sourdough bread from starter and so, so many other things--I've gotten to do because of her. Because if she hadn't gotten me out of Cottonwood, within six months I would have been dead.
I love my life. I've had a lot of grief, in twenty years; lost a baby, lost friends to illness or just bad luck, lived with a boyfriend who was the very definition of psychotic and who burned my life down around my ears, chose other partners who weren't what I deserved, until I learned to require the right things. But I worked in my garden today under an unseasonably hot sun, moving wood-chip mulch with a wagon--
--okay, so the garden, right, and the mulch. I wanted this house because of its garden; I spend a lot of time in it, through much of the year. I grow a lot of food and a lot of flowers, and the air is full of birds all day and fireflies all night. Last year the next-door-neighbor on our left had tree people in to take down a couple of trees, and I looked at the deep dumptruckful of fresh tree chips and I wanted it. I knew that a lot of the time tree services have to pay to dump their wood chips somewhere else, and that they find it tedious. And I thought, Diane would just walk on over there, and say hi-ii  the way that she does, and ask for it. Diane would just smile, and--
I raised my chin, and I walked over, and I gave my winningest smile, and I said Hi-ii, I'm Gen, I live right there in the house with the blue roof, and I was wondering, do you guys want a place to dump all that? and fifteen minutes later I had a couple of tons of premium hardwood chip mulch behind my house. I've been transporting it to various places in the garden since, scoop by scoop with a shovel and my little black wagon, and have thickly covered a couple of hundred feet worth of beds so far. I put twenty wagon-loads up front of the house today, making twenty or thirty feet of new garden bed for native pollinator plants to go into in three weeks, and the whole time I was literally singing with how good my life is, how lucky I am, to have my husband, to have my home, to have a place that has kept me safe, to have learned so many things, to live somewhere that I get to experiment and watch things grow and produce baskets and baskets of food from a handful of seeds. Because of work and lessons and effort and continuing to put one foot ahead of the other, yes, I've worked hard to get here. But ultimately--because of Diane.
I don't really know what good parents are like. Dad is a word that means "hurts you and hurts you and hurts you and then disappears," and Mom is a word that means "will eat your heart from the inside and complain the whole time about the taste." But because of Diane...because of her, I do understand, a little.
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griffin-wood · 1 year
Text
almost is never enough.
pairing: nick wiseman x oc (naya davis) (NICK MANCERS UNITEEEE)
summary: nick and Naya says goodbye on her last day at UCRT.
a/n: from future alya, this was written two years ago. and I'm having withdrawal of nick-mancer au and I remember this fic exist. SO, I'm saying laissez faire, its out to the world!
Nick stood waiting outside of Adsila's office - as they promised for one last rodeo a.k.a a night out with whiskey with one Naya Davis. Naya came to UCRT, for the last year as she was recruited to become a detective with who Nick has been assigned with.
He held onto the box of cookies, he made earlier today. It's was a dozen of chocolate chip cookies - which is apparently his comfort recipe. It's a token of gratitude for everything Naya has done for him.
He remembers the nights where she helps him with a million types of distractions. Aside from whiskey night at the bar, they would often walk around in the city at night - somehow seeing the world in a different new light. And it's become theirs.
Nick didn't know what he has been feeling inside of him, he knew something changed in his heart. He knew he was slowly starting to fall for her, but there's a pinch of fear. Fear of rejection? Maybe. Fear of not being good enough? Always. He sighs before clearing the negative thoughts away as the door opens revealing a surprised Naya at the sight of one Nicholas Wiseman.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
Nick sheepishly tries his best to be subtle but fails miserably.
"I'm - I'm just waiting for you. Gray told me Adsila wanted to see you - so, here...I am!"
Naya let out a chuckle, a wide grin on her face.
"I appreciate Black for giving you the Intel. Now, let's get going for whiskey night shall we?" She states as she linked her arms with Nick walking away from ucrt for the final time together.
-
"It's okay, it's on me." Naya took out an extra bill as she paid the bartender.
Nick raised an eyebrow,
"Is it a blue moon, or did you just do something charitable there Davis?"
She just shrugged, the smile remains on her lips. Her leather jacket hangs perfectly on her shoulders, as he noticed - all the eyes on her. He mentally rolled his eyes at them, before scowling their way.
"It's a farewell gift, I suppose. We agreed the first drink was on you - and the final one is from... me." She took a sip of the whiskey as he follows suit.
They were silent, only the sound of chattering can be heard. Nick took the opportunity to pop a question in between.
"So, are you ready to leave?"
"Wiseman, I swear you are intending to make me cry tonight huh?"
"Nuh-uh, I'm just curious. And like, you've been here a year now. It must be hard to say goodbye."
She nods slowly,
"It's been a good year, but - my job is calling me back home. And well, when you are used to saying the unexpected goodbyes. It's just, part of life actually." Her words are the harsh truth, somehow - Naya has been through quite a number of lose in her life. Her father was the first one she has to go through, and it never gets easier.
A squeeze of a hand-pulled her back from her consciousness. Her eyes land on his hand, squeezing it - as she took a deep breath. The gesture was returned, as Naya mouths, a 'thank you to him.
-
"Wanna get out of here?" Nick proposes an idea as he downs the glass of water.
"Where to?"
He thinks for a moment,
"Our final adventure." He places his hand out for her, and she takes it as they left the bar.
He walks beside her, as the motorcycle was left behind at the bar. The road lights guiding them on this adventure, as their hands still intertwined in one another.
There's a ladder, a familiar one too.
"no way - this is..." She was cut off, by a smiling Nick Wiseman.
"This is our final adventure, courtesy of you of course. The first time; you brought me here to yell the craziness away." They both climb on the ladder, somehow the familiarity of it all is causing a sense of deja vu.
It was an abondoned rooftop, Naya found months ago. It was the earliest memory she has with Nick after the incident. She found this place and decided; it'll be their place, just like everything else they have found together in the past year.
-
"Nicholas Hyacinth Wiseman, you are...." "Amazingly handsome, a pure genius - you can keep on going there Naya. I don't mind." He playfully winks her way, as she nudges an elbow to his stomach. "A pure idiotic genius." She finishes the sentence, as they get themselves comfortable. The view of the AEON building is visible from the rooftop, along with the metro line - and even the lights from the houses below. Its a whole different world from above.
"I'll take that compliment Nay-nay." She winces at the nickname, nick wiseman have opted quite a number of nicknames for her. She would nudge him for it - but, for tonight she'll let it go. For sentimental sake.
"you ain't gonna punch me for the nick-name, miss Davis?"
"Nope, it's our last night together. Give me your worst." She shoots a reply his way, as the battle of nicknames begun for a whole minute. Both of them ended up laughing by the end of it, somehow letting themselves lose completely.
"I'm gonna miss you." She smiles sadly as her eyes met with his.
"Is it the cookies or the company?"
"The cookies of course - but, I wouldn't say no to the company as well." The wide smile of his face says it all - as he took out the cookies from his bag.
"Here you go. A gift, from yours truly."
Naya eyes the content in the Tupperware, and her grin widen at the sight of the chocolate chip cookies. It's literal comfort, as she took a bite of one of it. Savouring the taste, it feels like stepping into an olden memory.
"It never gets old. Did I manage to convince you for the recipe?"
He shakes his head, a laugh escaping his lips.
"No can do, it's a wiseman special."
"Fine, fine. But, did Maia put up a fight for these - cause I know I will." She replies before setting the cookies in her bag.
"She tried to take one of them, but - hey, it's a special occasion. However, I have a new batch ready for her in the fridge. It's all good." He says with a look that reassures her that Maia will be alright.
Naya nods in understanding, after meeting Maia - they both hit it off instantly and, she admits she's going to miss the kid.
"I'll miss her. She's better company, but I couldn't say no to free cookies Nicholas."
"Har-har, she will miss you too. Both Salome and button - definitely will miss your fashion tips. I don't get what they see in leather jackets. It's old-school."
He received a painful nudge once again,
"Don't insult the leather, it's iconic. It screams, me. And I like it." She sticks out her tongue playfully his way, as he surrender.
"Fine, maybe one day - you'll convince me after all on how superior leather jackets are."
She went quiet - one day. She doesn't know when she'll be back here. It's not home, but the past year - it feels like home. It's not the ones with walls, but... a home with a heartbeat and a pair of gray eyes who's watching her with consideration.
"one day.. yeah."
Nick rubs his hands together,
"you'll come back right?"
She shrugs once more, she doesn't know. In the past, every assignment was done perfectly; she can leave without having some sort of attachment but, now it seems impossible. There's this feeling inside her wishing that she would stay, her mind and heart battling in an invisible argument - yet, it's not enough. Almost, but it's not enough.
"I'm not sure actually." Her playful tone from before has disappear as her gaze lands on the buildings in front of them. The moon shines brightly above them - as her gaze falls on Nick again.
He is thinking deeply, she knew that look on his face. The familiarity of the look during game night at his house, as she won 5 rounds of monopoly together alongside with Sally and Maia.
"What are you thinking about?"
His eyes met with hers again, a sad smile on his face - a solemn reply which follows.
"Thinking of a good way to say goodbye."
Oh. It's actually happening then.
"Whiskey, check. Secret hide-out, check. What more can you do to make this farewell perfect, wiseman? It already is." She stood up, and stood as Nick follows from behind. Their tracks stopped at the ledge of the roof as they took a seat.
"Well, I have a question."
"Shoot."
"Can I kiss you?"
Naya looks up instantly, meeting his eyes which is filled with genuine sadness as his smile warms her heart. She raised an eyebrow at the question - not saying no, not saying yes either.
"As something to remember me by."
A loud laugh escape her lips as the blush on his face is visible even in the dark. How easily flushed he is, it was actually adorable.
"You getting bold huh Wiseman."
He scoots a bit closer to her, filling the empty gaps.
"I got the best teacher then." His voice was smooth - as it's Naya's turn to blush at the response.
As she tilt her head up, she was met his face inches away from her. The look on his face, somehow asking for permission as she nods slowly, a part of her wanting this too.
In a few moments, her lips met with his. As they kissed - there was intensity in the action, as both of them return the kiss with such intensity of their own. It feels right, as Naya founds herself, wanting more. She wants more, but she stops herself - as their foreheads meet. Opening her eyes, finding his which is looking at her with a new profound softness within the gaze.
"That's quite an amazing farewell."
"Beats the whiskey and the rooftop then?"
"Nah, it's the best of all worlds." She says while smiling, as her hands found his.
He didn't pull away, as he tightens the hold of her hands in his. The silence that follows feels the loudest, it's filled with questions, what does it mean? Where do they go from here? What does the future hold for them and...will it be enough to let her stay?
She somehow read his mind as their gazes met once again.
"I can't stay. And, I don't know what the future might hold - but, all these times. I'm glad to have you by my side Nick." It's one of the rare moments where she uses his name instead of his full name, it feels right.
"I thought...I wish you could stay. Is it not enough?"
"You'll always be enough Nicholas, but..." She can't continue her sentence, yet he nods understanding.
"It's alright, I'll wait for you - until you are ready."
"Nick, what if...?"
"Falalala, I can't hear you." She laughs at this, he always knows how to change the topic. It frustrates her a lot, but...this time it's needed.
The clock strikes almost 3 a.m. as they decided to part ways.
"So, this is goodbye then."
"The official goodbye? Then, yes." He stood there with her, in the empty parking lot of the bar.
He was about to say a few words, before she pulls him into an embrace. A tight one, with a message that is loud and clear.
"You'll be alright out there Nicholas. You'll always be alright."
Her glassy eyes, met with his. She smiles sadly her way, and leans forward placing a kiss on his cheek before letting him go.
She puts on her helmet, and ride away from him. Every distance feels like an eternity, but... it has to be done. Another moment she stood there - she knew she couldn't leave. She almost did, but almost is never enough. And, she couldn't give him 'almost' but, maybe in the future - almost will transform into a 'yes'. One day.
-
Nick stood on the road, his hands waving back at her. It's definitely goodbye, for real. A sigh escaped his lips, before his hands land on the place where Naya kisses him again. It feels warm, before he leaves the area - making it back home.
The sound of the television startle him, as he saw Maia munching on a few cookies while watching a movie on her own with Mr.Snodgrass in her arms.
"Hey button, it's late."
"I'm watching some stuff, it's the... weird dreams again." She stated as she lowered down the volume a little.
Nick nods understanding,
"How are you feeling now?"
"A bit better, cartoons. They helped, so - any news about Naya?" Her curiosity peaked within the question.
Nick took a seat on the couch beside her, as he munch on a cookie.
"I kissed her actually."
A surprised look flicker on maia's face before a wide smile appears - as she waits for good news that follows it.
"Did she decide to stay?" The enthusiastic tone in her voice makes him smile regardless. However, the smile instantly transform into a small frown as he shook his head.
A frown also painted on maia's expression.
"Do you think you'll see her again?"
He nods slowly, uncertainty fills his voice.
"I'm not sure - maybe someday."
Maia quiets down, and nods. She took another cookie, passed it his way.
"It's okay Nick-nack, she'll always be with you."
He takes the cookie gratefully, and nods. Maybe, as his mind wonders again - someday.
THE END.
tagging some nick-mancers fans i know: @cadetzarneki , @ambrosykim , @moderarato , @wayhavenots (idk who else ahh, but enjoy heh)
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woonietune · 1 year
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Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated, for I was only wiping countertops with my left hand and weeping into my collagen supplements, not being dissected by first-years at the medical school
Lots of catching up to do. I haven’t posted in a while. I got sick. I mean, I know I’m always getting sick, but this time I got so sick that I lost a lot of the use of my right hand. I couldn’t pick up one of my fluffy chickens without the owies--and I have a high pain threshold. I thought maybe I was having a stroke--or a bad case of hypochodria but once those things were ruled out, no one knew what it was. It wasn’t Covid. It wasn’t some weird autoimmune thingie (as of yet--I suspected that--but it wouldn’t be that). Maybe my allergies had evolved into some Godzilla version? I couldn’t sweep a broom across the porch. The inflammation was so bad I couldn’t wear my rings, and worst of all, I couldn’t type. 
I couldn’t get an appt with my PCP for three months (because this is the way things are in the USA in a state where Bobby Fuck U Jindal let five private insurers compete for Medicaid clients and basically set into motion the now standard Republican model of Let Disabled People Die Who Needs Them). Anyway, I did see a nurse practitioner who sent me to get x-rays in one hospital and to get bloodwork in another--and the results came back that there was nothing wrong with me. I was reporting pain 8/10 but was told to take Tylenol and that the doctor would see me in three months.
That was back in December? I don’t think I’ve gone ever without writing for 3 months. I paid out of pocket for some acupuncture (never had it before--it was cool beans) and got some relief; I adjusted my diet, already vegetarian to as sanctimonious a vegan, anti-inflammatory diet as I could manage, and I felt a little better. I used Google Voice to chat with fandom friends. Google Voice told of the adventures of Dog Food, the great warrior, and Wound, the former assassin of Cooks Up a Wrong, and I was miserable. I wanted to write. Writing was my only real down time. Without it, my brain was in the wilderness.
During my no-writing period, I had two ear infections, my therapist gave leave, the family got mild Covid infections (during which time my arm felt oddly better), and I knew instinctively I had to rest. I picked up a heavy detergent bottle and got the owies bad the next day, so I let the house go to hell. I spent a lot of time lying in a dusty room I couldn’t clean (this was before the maid from Hell--I’d never hired a maid before in my life, but when I did, whoever hexed me made it so I got one that made already made beds and put the flat sheets under the fitted sheets, didn’t wash the cleaning foam out of the bath-tub, left large swaths of rug unvacuumed, broke several little minatures--I superglued them back but STILL--and left the kitchen floors grimy and put an envelope marked IMPORTANT on the kitchen in a super secret place among a bunch of bookshelves), and I let my mind wander the way it had when I was twelve or so....
Why am I trapped in this consciousness? Why can’t I be in the mind of that person or that other person? Or why can’t assume the presence of a tree or a cloud? Why am I me? And did I choose to be me? And where am I going? 
Agnosticism on any issue was the default, and if I wasn’t writing, it wasn’t only my right hand that was hurting, it was my brain. It hurt from awareness.
The maid from Hell cleared away some of the dust in the house (not much), but mostly she kicked my head out of its dusty sophomoric philosophizing. I was so mad over her bad house-keeping that I got up and started to clean my own house with one hand. I didn’t do a bad job, and my disabled family helped, even if they did turn some white clothes pink in the wash. Nobody died. The house never had a chance to grow black mold. 
When the PCP appt finally rolled around, the doctor examined my arm this way and that and guess what? I had a torn bicep! She recommended physical therapy but there was a waiting list (of course). I went on YouTube to get some practice videos, and there were all these muscle guys who lifted weights there who’d torn their biceps. I don’t know how I’d injured myself, but I’m always doing things I’m not supposed to. I mean, besides picking up 40 lbs dogs. I overestimate my strength and think I’m stretchier and younger than I am. I haven’t done yoga since before the Pandemic, so I must’ve just thought my arm was a squeegee pole or something and strained to clean a cobweb in ceiling corner, who knows.
I was prescribed super antihistamines for my allergies, given meloxicam for pain (lol), and told to rest (lol lol lol). Eventually I could type a little; then I could type a little more; before I knew it I had written more than 100K words in less than a month in a little fandom mini-arc, and my fandom wife was busy whipping my crazy manuscripts into shape because my writing was as out of shape as I was. I’d lost 10 lbs when I’d caught that nasty stomach flu everyone was getting (and I mask and take hazmat-like protocols nearly everywhere because my greatest fear is infecting someone high risk--I’m only moderate-high--and killing that person--I know all kinds of very sick people). My wife was sick too, and I don’t know how she does it, but apparently she can find a backwards quotation mark with a fever 101 and point out a paragraph that needs “more” even if she’s been puking for days and can’t stand up in the shower.
Fandom people are crazy. But we love what we love.
And we love writing for our historically inaccurate historical dramas.
I’ve actually been typing too long already.
This was supposed to be a master post of fics I haven’t uploaded in the past few months.
I’m back in bed, not sick so much this time as overwhelmed by all things overwhelming, and I want to write, but at the same time I want to just lie here and cry.
This world is a terrible place. It’s been blasted with meteors and nuked several times over, and the blood of a million wars have seeped into it, and the Ice Age has come and gone, and here I am, wondering if I’ll get a chance to swim in the ocean again before I die or maybe catch a coffee with a friend or see my dad who can’t fly here because of his bad lungs. Does it matter if I have words? Or are words the greatest illusion of meaningfulness--they’re just blabbity, and they disintegrate into cyberspace just like that stuff--remember paper?--paper used to fall apart when we picked up hundred-year-old books that had gone untouched. 
Actions matter. What we model for our children matters. Decency and kindness, compassion and persistence. Charity and hope, all those things that sound like dull bells until they are live faces with stories in front on your own.
But I don’t get out much anymore. I’m scared of the outside. I don’t march anymore, and my family needs me at home. The animals need me to refresh their water, and the old cat needs me to cut his pills twice a day, and oh, some people need to get over this “don’t enable disabled people.” It’s not enabling a disabled person who has broken legs if you hold his crutches while he sits in a car to go to a doctor’s appointment. You don’t know all the circumstances. Parents of disabled children--well, many of them, research hard and try many things, advocate hard, make phonecalls every day and we thank you for your judgement very much. We live in fear every day that our children will die in the system when we’re gone. 
Some days I feel all I have are my words. These words that are nothing. These words that are my playing around. I was diagnosed with cataracts not long ago. I am afraid of going blind now. But some surgery in a few years, they say--I’ll be fine. I hope so. I may not be fine in other ways. I knew there was something wrong with my eyes. I have optical migraines. My fingers don’t move they way they used to. My brain feels young--younger than ever, maybe twelve, the age I was wondering why I couldn’t share consciousness with a fish in a pond. Later, maybe when the bipolar was kicking in, I felt that I did share consciousness with it. And who will tell me I am wrong? The world’s great religions--not just my own with it’s Sh’ma Yisrael, the World is One, but so many others, speak of the great inter-connectedness of things.
Are the words in the way, or are they little stepping stones? Or are they both?
I don’t like to touch or hug people very much because of childhood traumas. I save my hugs for my dearest ones and my animal companions, but I throw words around freely, like chicken feed. C’mon and get it... or let it settle and rot in the earth, along with the blood and paper and other forgotten things.
My time isn’t over. This blog will last until... there are new technologies. I thought Tik Tokers would be the new talkers, but it doesn’t seem to be the place. Novelists haven’t disappeared; neither have poets. And despite Elon, Disabled Twitter is still going strong. There’s no telling.
So I’ll keep telling. I still have secrets and untold things. And many pockets full of untold stories. More later. The little fictions (oh this last one is 12k... sorry. Whoever reads it gets a cookie. A pretty Korean one from the palace).
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fereldanwench · 1 year
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just some somewhat vague personal life ramblings under le cut:
(cw for mental health stuff) ((im okay now but i definitely wasn't lmao))
i had a really good talk with my brother last week--we were seriously on the phone for almost 4 hours--and I'm not gonna get into most of the specifics, but it was very enlightening and validating on some lifelong struggles we both dealt with in our family and how that's impacted us as adults. (although i think they impacted me more as the oldest daughter.)
more specifically, i did talk a lot about how i was fucking miserable last fall, and i knew i was miserable in the moment, but i don't think i did fully realize to what extent. i just could not dig myself out of the mental hole, and every time i tried, it just felt like quicksand--struggling to get out just made me feel like i was sinking deeper. yanno. classic depression shit.
and a lot of it is related to my professional life. tl;dr - last spring i had to go back to a job i hate because i couldn't find anything else and my husband was about to lose his job at the time, and it's almost been a year and i'm still getting fucked over by being in this psuedo-manager position while i am not being paid for it despite ten months worth of meetings trying to rectify this.
i wanted (still want) out so bad, but i couldn't even update my resume or look at job listings without just completely spiraling. the job-hunting process just felt... worse than being employed at a job i hate, i guess. not feeling like i could find a good match, the stupid corporate lingo in listings, easy applies not actually being easy, recruiters who never actually read my resume, dehumanizing interviews, straight-up scams--i couldn't fucking do it.
and on top of that, i had to carry me and the husband financially for about half a year. i don't want to rehash all that, but suffice to say i just felt like everything was on me, and i had no one to turn to for anything. he did find something that ended up being a really good fit, and he's been working for about 4.5 months now, which did help my mental state a lot. but even that took a while to mend those particular struggles.
but i think having an honest, empathetic conversation about all of this was really what i needed to move forward. i had just been burying so much of this deep down for so long that i was just never in the right mental place to actually fucking deal with it and move on.
and then last night i just got a burst of motivation and finally updated my resume, and i didn't even feel the urge to cry, lmao. not once. still wish evil things on people who write job listings but baby steps.
however, i'm actually not in a huge rush at this exact moment to leave my current job despite my many grievances--we don't get vacation leave until at least a year of employment, so i have to wait until this may to get a whopping two weeks of paid leave. i can stick out another two months for that.
i would like to be out by the end of this summer at the latest, though, and i would l like to not have to rush into another job that'll end up fucking me over one way or another. so i definitely need to start the process now.
and it's basically spring here! i got my little porch garden going yesterday which is like an automatic mental boost. loving the sunshine and warm, but not stiflingly hot, afternoons 💐☀️🌿
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redrobin-detective · 1 year
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Hey Red, what actually happened with Eri in TLWA?
*platonically kisses your forehead and brushes back your hair* Lox always coming through for me.
Just a general FYI that I have So Much Background Lore on TLWA verse and will gleefully talk about it at anytime to anyone who shows the slightest interest.
Anyway! I made the decision early on in planning that the Raid arc would fail. The Shie Hassaikai arc was maybe hmm 1-2 months following All Might's (at the time not publicly known) death. Only a dozen people know AM is dead and a handful know about OFA and Izuku being its intended successor. Nighteye reacts to the death poorly and takes it out on Izuku who is NOT invited to his agency. Not to get sidetracked but I also really liked how that disagreement unfurled with Mirio finding out that Nighteye had been grooming him to replace AM and was unhappy Mido was chosen instead. This is what leads to Mirio leaving Nighteye's agency and developing a close, almost brotherly bond with Izuku.
Anywayyy, I needed Nighteye to fail to demonstrate the difference btw him and Izuku in Toshinori's life. Thus, Eri and Chisake get away. It's the first of a many unsuccessful jobs by Nighteye who has lost the heart for it but also, he didn't adapt to the loss of AM, couldn't see the world changing beyond his hero. He retired in disgrace not long after Izuku is named Symbol of Peace in Rise Up.
Gosh I keep getting sidetracked, Eri stayed with Chisake a few more, miserable, painful years. It sad and tragic but Eri eventually learns no one is going to save her so she has to save herself. It takes planning and perfect timing but one day, when Chisake was torturing her as always, he slipped and she was able to permanently rewind him. She flees. In the meantime, Chisake was now devoted all of his time to the quirk destroying bullets recognizing it as the game changer they are. There's now thousands of vials but, with the primary ingredient (Eri) gone, its now a limited supply. A bunch of ineffective, temporary knockoffs flood the market.
Eri is probably about 8ish? And lives rough for a while, she is forced to use her quirk just to survive and stay out of enemy hands. She is eventually taken in by a group of runaway/abandoned kids who band together and protect each other. It was there, through trial, error and practice she finally gets her quirk under control. She is used at first to run chores, to being the distraction as the cute kid to full on participating in petty theft and such to stay alive. She still fears the retribution of the 8 Precepts and doesn't want to go public so she stays in the underground.
She grows up, stronger and more confident but also bitter and jaded that no one helped her. She's against heroes, not in a villain way but in a 'they can't really help anyway'. In between her small crimes, she does little acts of vigilantism here and there, bc she can't stand to see someone mistreated in front of her, will not ignore suffering. On one of these bursts, she runs into the hero Deku, who's just opened his own agency. Queue a messy, several year long back and forth where Izuku tries to help her and she refuses it, untrusting of his intentions.
But she pays attention to the work he does, how he treats people. He even encourages her vigilantism by giving her info on things he legally can't meddle with. She doesn't quite trust him but she does respect him. She is an angry stray cat he can occasionally get to take a few scraps of love out of his hand. He offered her numerous times to get her legally in the system, to foster her and she never can never accept. She is happy, acting in her own capacity for herself. Just knowing that there are heroes out there like him, it gives her a bit more faith in people. She is happy and fiercely loyal to her people. Maybe someday, she'll want the stability of a normal life but for now, answering to no one and working through her own anger and grief through saving others is what she needs.
Her reputation grows, quietly and under the radar as a silent but incredibly effective vigilante who works the areas no one else does. The police are baffled, Deku has no comment on the matter but he does know this teen who is really kind and really powerful who wishes he had been able to save. But in the end while it wasn't okay, she survived and saved her. And now she's doing the same to other lost boys and girls.
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hootsifer-darling · 1 year
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Gonna get personal for a sec, I've been in a car for 7< hours and the mind does wander. I'm just thinking about how, for the one summer I stayed with him after turning 18, my dad was pathologically incapable of just letting me exist and do my own thing. Every decision I made was questioned and commentated on, down to going outside for my nightly before bed walk. "Really, are you sure you need to do that? Why? oookayy I guess." I was put through the wringer just asking for the house security codes so alarms wouldn't start screaming if I so much as walked down the stairs (there were door alarms and movement sensors on the first floor, and later cameras were installed literally everywhere, it was insane. Not outside btw, inside, explicity for monitoring US). I had to ask for those codes btw, they weren't offered up as being part of the household; he wanted us caged and monitored, and anything I ever asked for was treated as some huge imposition.
Then there was the time I sprained my ankle at an open gym and wanted to call out of work and he treated that like the most insane propostion ever. 'No you can't call out of work?? Your ankle is fine don't be ridiculous.' And after I called out boy did he lay on the passive aggression. 'You really shouldn't have done that, your bosses will be so let down, etc.' Anyway I limped up and down the stairs to get all my food for several days. Every day he was like 'ankle still bother you huh,' so incredulous like I was faking it out of laziness.
Oh and then there was the whole thing where I was forced to conform to their 5/6 am wakeup schedule, which I fucking did for over a month. I would zombie walk downstairs, have some cereal, and then camp on the couch and watch TV with headphones on my computer, present and unobtrusive. I found a way to do something my body and brain was wired not to and even found some joy in the routine. But even that wasn't enough, eventually the demands started that I lose the TV and "participate" with the family, despite the fact that they were basically all doing the same thing. God forbid I did something he wanted on my own terms.
So anyway that was around the halfway point of the summer and although I couldn't put my finger on what it was I started to notice I was being forced to do an awful lot of stuff I didn't want to and was actively impeding my enjoyment of day to day life. So I started sleeping in, letting my body do its thing. I was forcibly awakened a few times by various means, the most sinister of which was turning "wake Adam up" into a game for the 7 and 3 year olds for about a week before he finally accepted defeat on that particular battle. Maybe I started locking my door idk.
Anyway things got progressively worse over the next month as I started planting my feet on various things I felt didn't make sense, and as it turns out questioning a narcassist's authority is a fast-track to getting kicked out for being disrespectful lol. Not gonna go into that whole day but after that I finally decided that being there made me feel bad and I should probably leave. I didn't even start unpacking the events of that summer for two years. I had to quit the job I'd been at for about 3 months which was a very embarassing and stressful thing to do for the first job I'd ever had, but I said my "home situation wasn't working" and the managers all understood and one even told me very earnestly "go be happy Adam" which remains one of the most profoundly kind things anyone has ever said to me.
My dad's favorite thing to say ever since moving to Florida was always "well you can always come live with us" (a fucked up thing to say to the pre teens you abandoned), but when I finally gave it a try boy did he make sure it was so miserable that it only lasted 4 months and none of us ever tried it again.
But to end this on a more positive note I'm really proud of myself for deciding to leave even though in the moment I wasn't sure why I was so unhappy, I just knew that I was and that I could leave, so I did, and I think that was pretty huge of me. And also pretty metal to pin my resignation on him: "sorry I have to quit, I tried living with my dad and it's just not working." Considering he made me cry on the way to my interview for said job I think it was only fair.
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