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meredith-harper81 · 7 months

Text

Arranged to Love🪽

My Life

Chapter 1:

Paring: Chris Evans x Apsyn Anderson

Word Count: 2k

Warning: Angst, Smut

Apsyn Pov

My fingers are shaking as I'm putting my heels on. I smooth out my cream-colored dress, apply some lipstick, check myself in the mirror, and walk out.

"Took you long enough," Theo says as he is sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for me to come out of the bathroom. He walks towards me as I grab my coat from the rack. He grabs the coat from my hands and throws it back somewhere in the hotel room.

"You don't need that, and you chose to wear that?" he says, eyeing me up and down.

"Yeah? I can change," I say, looking at the floor and avoiding his gaze.

"NO! Just let's go; we're already late, and you've already decided to dress like a widow," he says as I flinch when he grabs me by my wrist and pulls me out with him down the hall towards the elevator.

We take the elevator down to the lobby area, and Theo doesn't even wait for me and walks out as I carefully walk in these high heels.

I walk out, thanks to the help of the bellman, and see Theo already in the car on his phone, typing away as he smirks.

I walk around the other side as the driver holds the door and gets in. I roll the window down a little as Theo's cologne is starting to give me a headache, and the driver takes off.

Theodore and I are attending one of his office parties tonight. Theodore works for a big firm. We used to live in Seattle, where he managed one of the firms, and he recently got promoted to a bigger firm. One of the companies Theo works for partners with Evans Enterprises. From what Theo told me, it is a multi-millionaire company, and tonight they are hosting a party.

Theo's new job required him to stay in Massachusetts, so his company is moving us to Massachusetts, in a little suburb city. As of a few days ago, we have been living out of a hotel until our things from across the country arrive.

...

I stare out the window as we pass tall buildings, and it reminds me of when I used to live in New York when I attended NYU to become a writer.

I once used to be really happy in my early twenties. I lived with my aunt and uncle. Anne and Michael... My aunt was my mom's sister; when my parents passed away, she took me in, and everything was great until she married my uncle.

Michael always had a problem with gambling, and when I was away in college, he took money out of my trust fund. My parents left me and used it all towards betting, putting him in debt, and I was kicked out of college. Michael didn't want to go to jail and owed a lot of money, so he ended up selling me to Theo in exchange for marriage.

Theodore is very handsome, has green eyes and a charming smile, curly short brown hair, and is 5'9. I was in my third year of college when we got married, and Theo never supported me to pursue my writing anymore. I didn't think it was going to be hard to get married to a complete stranger, and it would work out. Little did I know.

So here I am now, three years later, married to Theodore Akens. At first, Theo was really nice and loved me, but then slowly he would start hitting me and verbally abusing me after six months of being married to him. Part of it had to do with his parents; they never liked me, and his mother started filling Theo's brain with awful assumptions about me. He would often bring other women into our room and fuck them next to me while I would pretend to be asleep, and in the morning I would find their belongings around the room. If we were to go out somewhere, he would often put on a show around people and show how much in love we are. or do the complete opposite and flirt with women right in front of me.

...

The driver arrives at the location in the city. It is really cold out, and so many people are in attendance. Theo gets out, and the driver helps me out. I thank him and walk around, and Theo links our arms together, and we walk in as if we were a couple madly in love with each other.

"Mr. and Mrs. Akens, Welcome! All the guests are on the forty-ninth floor. I hope you have a pleasant time," the bellman says as he opens the door.

...

I am standing in a corner of the room with water in my hand and watching Theo from afar. After we entered the party, Theo just left me and wandered off, leaving me all alone.

Theo is standing next to a woman in a revealing red dress, just staring away at her chest, and he is probably now laughing at something she said as he puts his hands on her hips.

I scoff and roll my eyes. I can't do this... I really wished he would have just left me back in the hotel room instead of bringing me alone.

After mingling around with a couple of people, my feet are killing me, and this dress is really uncomfortable. I am walking down a tiny hallway, trying to find my way toward the bathroom.

I turn my head around the other way, and when I turn it back, I run into something hard, and before I can react, I'm on the floor.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Here, let me help you up," I hear him say, and I look up into his bright blue eyes. He helps me up, and before I can thank him, he helps me up.

"Sir, they need you over here," I hear another voice say, and before I can thank him, someone drags him out of my view.

I stand on my feet and notice how much dirt is on my dress. I need to clean this up before Theo can see it. I walk further down the hallway and see the women's restroom.

...

After using the bathroom, I walk back to the other room, and I can't see Theo anywhere. I walk over to the bar and order another glass of water with some lemon, and while I wait for my water, someone pushes me, and I bump into another person, and they spill red wine all over my dress.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." This man says this to me as he is grabbing napkins.

I look down and see that my dress is all ruined. How am I going to explain this to Theo?

"It's okay, it's not your fault," I say to the man as I grab the napkins, trying to blow out the stain.

"I'm Scott," he says.

"Oh, um... nice to meet you, Scott," I say, looking over at him and trying to see if Theo is nearby.

If he even catches a glimpse of me talking to another man, Theo will lose his calm, and tonight will not go well.

"So, do you have a name? Or..."

"Uh, yeah, Aspyn," I say, and he reaches to shake my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Aspyn... This is my husband, Steve," he says as he introduces me to Steve, the man standing next to him who has an apologetic smile on his face.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Theo walking back into the room. "It was nice to meet you folks, but I need to find my husband," I say, leaving them before they have the opportunity to talk.

I walk up to Theo, and he doesn't look so happy. I walk up to him, and he looks me up and down and pulls me out to the side.

"Aspyn! What the hell?" He said this, looking at me.

Before I can say that Theo presses the button for the elevator and we get in, he presses the first floor, and it hits the stop button, and the elevator stops. He is just holding my hand and squeezing it super hard, to the point where it is starting to hurt. He pushes me in and cages me against the wall.

"You had one job tonight, and you had to fuck that up, didn't you? You just have to look like a slob in front of everyone, don't you?" Theo says, and I can smell the liquor on me as he gets closer.

Theo punches the wall next to my head, making me flinch. "I'm going back upstairs, and you are going back to the hotel. Don't do anything stupid while I'm out; you hear me," he says as he lets me go, grabs the card key, throws it in my face, and pushes me out of the elevator.

I compose myself as tears threaten to spill out of my eyes and walk out towards some of the car services. As I get in the car, I tell the driver the location, and he takes off. As soon as I get back to my hotel room, I take off my heels, place them next to my suitcase, pull out my night slip, and head towards the bathroom.

I lock the bathroom door and turn the shower on. I walk over to the counter and start to remove my makeup while I wait for the water to turn hot. As I take off my earrings, I notice my bracelet is not there. I stop what I am doing, run out of the bathroom, and trace my steps to the front door, trying to find it. After looking around, I can't find it, and my eyes are threatening to spill out the tears that are building up. I can't believe I lost my mother's bracelet.

This night just hit rock bottom.

After my shower, I get into bed and pull the sheets to my chin, wanting to forget this night. I stare at the ceiling, wondering where Theo went and when he is coming back. I can't even text him or do anything since he took my phone away last month.

...

I'm startled awake when I hear a loud knocking. I turn the side lamp on, and I hear someone knocking at the front door, followed by some giggling. I don't even remember falling asleep. I get out of bed and walk towards the door. I look through the peephole and see Theo leaning on the door.

I open the door, and I see Theo leaning on the same woman from earlier. His shirt is open, and he has some hickeys on his chest. I look down and see his pants undone, about ready to fall down, as he is holding them up with one hand.

"About damn time," he slurs out as he lets go of the blonde and leans into me. "Call me next time you are in town, baby," she chirps at Theo, and I close the door on the blonde and help Theo walk towards the bed. He is drunk, as he is trying to walk in a straight line.

He sits on the bed and is trying to take off his shoes and pants at the same time.

"Here, let me help you," I say as I grab for him, and he pushes me back. I back up as he falls onto the bed.

He shuts his eyes, and I walk over to him and take his shoes and socks off, placing them on the side. I slowly pull down his pants, but his boxer also comes off along with his pants, and I spot cum stains on them. I look at his erection, and he is still leaking cum.

I back up, shaking the disgust out of my body. I walk back to his laundry bag and throw them in there. I head into the bathroom and grab a washcloth, walking back towards Theo. After cleaning him up, I pull the sheets over him and walk back to my side.

I turn off the lamp, get close to the edge of the bed, away from him, and close my eyes in the hope of a better day tomorrow…

#chris evans #chris jamal evans #chrisevans #christopher evans #steve rogers #andy barber #chris evans smut #chris evans characters #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fluff #arranged marriage #theo james

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junkshop-disco · 2 years

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Did you watch the Guy/Thomas scenes? Just wondering if it changed your opinion at all. I can't decide whether to watch them or if it'll upset me :(

I did. Under here for anyone still (somehow) dodging spoilers.

Tbh I quite liked some of the scenes themselves and the actors do a good job with the little they're given (although the colouring makes everyone look like Ross in The One With The Spray Tan Mishap, good luck gif makers). But I am still... sort of confused/uncomfortable about how ambiguously it's pitched? The music is doing a lot of heavy lifting to suggest the storyline is romantic but despite the likability of Guy in the other scenes, if I was at work and someone came into my office, sort of offered me a job and then felt me up, I would punch them. And I can't quite shake that feeling of not knowing what this is supposed to be: romance, work offer, some kind of job with benefits arrangement, or just sexual harassment Thomas is too weary to fight against or sees some kind of opportunity for escape in.

Regardless of what I think of the plot, I would like to be certain what the plot actually is, you know? If it's a romance, have Thomas kiss him and make it clear? If it's not, leave off with the workplace groping unless you're making a point about period-typical workplace groping? That Thomas himself seems confused about the nature of their relationship in the scene with Mary does not help and makes the whole thing come across like one big hedged bet, so if you're hoping for closure by watching the scenes or the film, you're probably not going to get it.

It feels to me like whether you're into this storyline for Thomas or not, you've got to bring a lot to it yourself in order to have it be satisfactory. To be sad for Thomas, you've got to imagine his feelings about leaving Downton and what happened with Richard because they're not really explored. To be pleased for Thomas, you've got to imagine him a future where this pans out somehow: his joy and hope is not on the screen. None of this is new for Thomas or indeed DA generally, of course, but JF has somehow pulled out of the bag a storyline that feels deeply indifferent to Thomas, which imo is the greatest injustice of all whatever your feelings about the content of this film. I can't tell you whether watching the scenes will upset you more or not because I watched them and I'm none the wiser myself.

And not to ramble off, here, but I actually think this touches on a wider problem for me with how JF sees and writes romance as an almost entirely social contract. He repeats the pattern over and over that romantic fulfilment is tied to moving up socially or becoming rich and will deus ex machina things out of his ass to make it happen. See: Edith could've had a perfectly nice romance with Bertie as an agent and continued the writing/editing career she enjoys and provided a counterpoint to Mary's life at Downton, but instead, out of nowhere Bertie is suddenly promoted to one of the most important people in the country despite it being in-verse unlikely and hinging on the death of a person we've never seen onscreen. See also: Molesley has always wanted to make something of himself and finds fulfilment as a teacher but that's not enough for JF, he has to suddenly become a screenwriter before he can be with Baxter, who would've happily married him when he was a delivery boy. There's this sense that meeting a person you love isn't enough: it has to come in a package of being whisked away to something JF considers better and more glamorous and that's nearly always oriented around money and viewed through a deeply classist lens.

Characters who don't follow this pattern tend to get shafted. See: Mary gets a whirlwind romance and a marriage with Henry, overlooking her reservations about his standing, and then he ghosts her on a fairly epic scale for two films and may as well not exist. See: Tom and Sybil marry, live a more ordinary life, and then Sybil dies. The Bateses start with the upgrade package: Bates gets left a house (by his presumably working class mother, but let's just handwave that) and so then they can marry, but the price for this is they will both go to prison for different murders, sexual violence, and a series of miscarriages.

The happiest relationships portrayed are the ones tied to financial or social gain on the part of one person, with Robert and Cora as the blueprint. I'm not saying these kinds of matches are unrealistic or ahistorical when it comes to the aristocracy, but the issue for me is that when you apply the same thinking to working class people, especially working class queer people, you're saying something completely different. You're saying: you don't get to be happy unless someone with more money and status chooses to pluck you out of your life. And with Thomas specifically, you're saying: discovering a community of queer men on your doorstep doesn't matter. Meeting someone from that community doesn't matter (because I do think we're supposed to read Richard as knowing about the existence of Turtons even if he's too circumspect to be a regular). Only proximity to glamour and money matter, making yourself complicit in the system that oppressed you is your only chance at any sort of freedom.

When you look at it like that, in JF world, Thomas could only have ended up with Richard if Richard was somehow revealed to have been a minor royal all along. Which JF couldn't do because he'd basically given that plot to Tom and Lucy.

As a working class queer, I have a massive problem with this underlying current that only social and/or financial climbing can bring contentment in relationships. It doesn't recognise that often part of queerness is seeing that all the systems, not just the ones about sexuality and gender, are complete bullshit. Which is a position and an understanding Thomas has espoused throughout. Guy hints at sharing this viewpoint with his 'don't call me sir' request (which Thomas rejects, incidentally), but his offer is written in such a wooly way that again, you have to do the work yourself to see it as a meeting of minds rather than a conditional, vague promise of enhanced freedom based on servitude and complicity in a bunch of bullshit systems. It just feels really... anti-queer to me, in a way that’s very little to do with how I feel about Guy as a character or even the decisions made around Richard, and far more to do with what the procession of disposable working class men (including Jimmy and Chris) says about the route to happiness and fulfilment presented.

Anyway this has become a dissertation so I'll stop. Whatever you decide, good luck anon and my inbox is always open for venting <3

#downton abbey #downton abbey spoilers #downton abbey a new era #downton abbey a new era spoilers

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zsocca55 · 3 years

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Hello There fellow Hungarian from Poland!

Do you have aby headcanons about Poland or Polish and Hungarian Relations?

Yay, another Pole! :D Much, much love from Hungary to you guys! ❤️❤️❤️ I tried to summarize my thoughts in short sentences but….eh… sorry for the length of this, but there is like, a ton of history to work with, and one idea popped up after another and then I just got lost typing this. I might as well write a whole book about it. XD

These are listed in more or less historical order. Am I doing this right? I’m bad at making headcanons! Also my interpretation of Poland is very different from his Hetalia presentation and my notes are based heavily on how Poland and Polish people are perceived in Hungary. Sorry if that bothers anyone, but I like to stay accurate to History.

Anyway, I hope this list satisfies!

Poland:

-Used to be really childish and carefree but after the partitions he matured rather quickly

-He is quite the attention-seeker, very social and has many friends but only a few real ones and he has trust issues and fear of abandonment - that’s why he can get very clingy

-Has pride like the size of the moon

-Communicates his emotions poorly - which results in him sometimes mistreating people he likes (Lithuania and Ukraine for example) - he is getting better at reading people though

-He is a “lets get shit done” type of person - you give him a job and he will do it impeccably and in time

-He appears like this happy-go-lucky guy, but it’s actually a coping mechanism

-When he feels down, he becomes emotional - and drinks a lot - he is an emotional drunk

-Had a big fat crush on Ukraine (he even has a folk song dedicated to her, Hej Sokoły!)

-Complains a lot - like a really lot

-Poland keeps old gifts he received from his great kings and queens in a safe (nobody knows about it though)

-The partitions caused him to lose consciousness for weeks. It was the shock of losing his identity as a ‘state’. All countries involved believed that he would die.

-Poland lived with Russia between 1795-1918 due to Russia possessing most of his territory. But he often made official visits to Austria and Prussia to negotiate the treatment of his people with them. He also got away on his own a few times (to help out Hungary in 1848-49 for example).

-Poland accompanied Tadeusz Kościuszko to America, but couldn’t stay for long. Youthful America’s enthusiasm inspired him a lot.

-He is a very bad driver, and had so many accidents he doesn’t keep count, but he is a skilled pilot so he often complains about not being allowed to fly around instead of driving around.

Poland and Hungary:

-Poland was also victim of Hungarian tribal attacks before the 10th century so his boss decided to befriend the new southern neighbour in hopes of making an ally. At first Hungary thought Poland was a girl while he thought she was a boy.

-Hungary first met a Polish tribe called “Lendzianie” and so she named his people “lengyel”. Poland never corrected her though.

-They paid visits to each other often during the early decades of the 10th century and played a lot. Once they jumped in a lake for fun’s sake, without clothes, and Poland quickly realized that Hungary is in fact a girl but he hadn’t got the heart to break the news to her because she was so confident in being a boy.

-They got distanced whenever internal crisises rose in their countries. Even up to this day, if one of them has an internal struggle, the other doesn’t pry and keeps a respectful distance. They respect each others boundaries in every way.

-Poland and Hungary were married twice, but all they ever did was giggle about it like the young teens they were and caused a lot of trouble for their kings with their pranks and mischiefs.

-Poland never understood why Hungary’s attention turned towards Austria in the 1400s though. Hungary also never understood why his attention turned towards Lithuania either.

-Poland and Hungary have a very similar residing scar running in three directions across their bodies which are testimony to them being thorn in three. Poland during the partitions and Hungary during the Ottoman-Habsburg invasions when she was also basically three entities in one.

-Poland fought with Hungary against Austria in 1848-49 but was dragged back by Russia when Hungary lost. He learned of her marriage to Austria through a newspaper much later and was severely disappointed in her.

-Poland tried to negotiate with the Allies in order to save Hungary from being chopped up and lose their shared border, but France faced him with a decision: either shut up and get a place on the map or refuse the treaty and have less territory. Poland never ratified the treaty but he still resents not fighting it more.

-Hungary tried to help Poland during his war with the soviets in 1920-22 but because Czechoslovakia refused to grant access to him out of spite, she turned to Romania of all people, pleading him to help. Romania actually helped.

-Hungary was pretty shaken and isolated from everyone after WW1. Only Poland and North Italy reached out to her, searching ways to keep in contact.

-Hungary resents joining the wrong side in WW2, which made her and Poland enemies. She tried to make the best of the situation and help Poland when her troops were stationed on his territory. They met accidentally in a forest while Poland was marching with partisans towards Warsaw in 1944. She helped him out but Prussia found them and Hungary pretended to take Poland hostage in order to release him later during the night. Her men were killed for fraternizing with the enemy.

-During the German occupation in Poland it was forbidden to listen to Polish nationalist songs and so Hungary and her men played “God save Poland” on repeat just because they could and Poland and his people were very thankful for it.

-When the Iron Curtain was drawn, Hungary hid away in her land, depressed, but Poland kept fighting the new rule until the Poznan protests inspired the uprising in Budapest in 1956. Originally Hungary organized a solidarity march for him but it turned into a freedom fight. She was struck down by Russia though, leaving her bleeding out on her streets with a hole in her chest. Poland flew to Budapest and offered his own blood to save her. Hungary remained unconsious for a week until she woke up. He was at her bedside the whole time.

-Poland often jokes about Hungary probably inheriting his “immortality” because of the blood transfusion.

-Hungary hid away again after 56. He tried to help Hungary get over her trauma by visiting her often during the rest of their years in the Soviet Union, but something broke in her and he didn’t really know what to do.

-This put a certain distance between them.

-After the USSR fell, Poland was quick to make new friends and make up with his neighbours but Hungary came out of her shell much slower. She did admire him for his strength to move on. He also encouraged her a lot to get up and improve her country.

-Hungary considers him her only real friend. She doesn’t trust anybody else with her life anymore. Out of gratitude, she decided to declare a special day for Poland (March 23) and when he heard of it, he actually teared up.

-Nowadays they visit each other on their Independence Days and celebrate together. They also go and cheer for each other’s football teams with hundreds of Poles chanting “Ria, ria, Hungaria!” and hundreds of Hungarians chanting “Polska! Polska!” on the streets.

-After hearing the song “Varsó hiába várod” from the band Republic, Poland thought Warsaw is indeed too far from Budapest so he made a plan to build a railroad so they can come and go between each other’s capitals in five hours. The idea is under construction at the moment.

-Poland and Hungary like to think that they are the heart of V4.

-Hungary goes along with whatever mischief or prank Poland makes up. And vica versa.

-They also promote their friendship with so much enthusiasm that Romania often calls them out for being too mushy.

Uh, thanks for reading through this! I know this is a lots of text, I get carried away when making up ideas. I’m unable to summarize my thoughts in short sentences. I don’t have the ability.

Also 50% of this is not even headcanon, some of these really happened or are happening.

Anyway, I hope I answered your question! :’)

#hetalia #hws #aph #hetalia hungary #hetalia poland #hws hungary #hws poland #polish-hungarian friendship #polish-hungarian relations #this history is rich #i love them so much #and I love Poles so much #headcanons but not really #q&a #zsocca #zsocca55 #polhun

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uniquelyaro · 3 years

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Living a Lovely Loveless Life

I am a creature of contradictions.

I love swimming at the beach, but you couldn’t get me out in open water for love or money. If I can’t see land, if the ocean is so deep I can’t even imagine the bottom, I am terrified.

I admire the raw power of storms and adore the smell of rain, but I flinch when lightning flashes, because I’m petrified of the loud crack of thunder that always follows.

I love the cold, because it means I can wrap myself in the warmest clothes and take my showers boiling hot.

I am aromantic, and yet, I am in love.

I never expected to fall in love. I’ve never had anything against the concept, but I was fairly sure I wasn't capable of it. I'm still sure, actually. But, I'm also in love.

If that sounds confusing to you, don't worry, I'm confused too.

I’ve been confused for most of my life. I spent the first 21 years of my life confused about my feelings, and about why I never seemed to feel the way my friends did. I was confused why I never seemed to experience things the way the media and society told me I should. I stopped being as confused when I found the aromantic label and community. Finding a word to describe myself felt like coming home. For the first time I had people who understood me, who helped me understand myself.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for me to realise that in some ways I was still the odd one out. The aromantic community is simultaneously both very anti-romance and very pro-love. Contradictory and confusing as that as that sounds, it makes a certain kind of sense. We reject the expectations of romance that society forces on us, while simultaneously reminding people that love doesn’t have to mean romance. Aromantics aren’t heartless or cold. We can love just as intensely and deeply as anyone else.

Well, other aromantics can. Me? Kind of a different story.

I honestly believe that I have never felt an emotion I can comfortably point to and call love. Not romantic, not platonic, not even familial. It feels like such a terrible thing to say, that I don’t love even my family, but it’s true. I care for them, for people, and I often care deeply. But I'm not sure I love them. Most people seem to think that’s sad. Even other aromantics have told me how sorry they are for me, how difficult life must be without love, but I don’t know any different.

Instead, the difficult thing for me is seeing how much the aromantic community likes to focus on love. They reject romance, sure, but instead other forms of love, such as platonic and familial are placed on a (very high) pedestal. Queerplatonic relationships are a big thing in the aromantic community, and it's treated as the pinacle of aromantic relationships, the thing to strive for. It’s very common to see an aromantic say things like “love doesn’t mean romantic love/romance”, “aromantics still love their friends and family”, or even “saying aromantics can’t feel love is a harmful stereotype.”

These statements aren’t wrong. On their own, they are very important things to point out because the ‘heartless cold aromantic’ trope is a harmful stereotype, and should be combatted. However, all too often it comes at the expense of aromantics like myself, the aplatonics and ‘loveless’ aros. It feels much too similar to the old “asexuals can still feel romance” for me. As a stand alone statement, it’s not wrong. For some people it’s even an important argument to make. However, it’s usually coupled with the harmful implication of “see, we can feel X thing just like normal people do. There’s nothing wrong with us”. It just moves the goalposts of acceptable differences, at the cost of people like me. It's a different bus, but I’m still being thrown underneath it.

That isn’t the only way I feel like an outsider in my community however. While aromantics can be very focused on the idea of platonic, queerplatonic or familial love, they tend to push romance to the side. Even when they don’t outright hate it, romance isn’t usually seen in a positive light within the aromantic community. It’s understandable, because amatonormativity and the pedestal it places romance on is a problem. Society’s expectations and views of romance as the be all and end all of existence is damaging, and the main reason I thought I was broken for so long. But you can reject toxic romantic ideals without rejecting romance altogether, something it doesn’t alway seem like the aromantic community understands.

I don’t feel romance, but I don’t hate it. It’s the opposite actually, because I like romance. I enjoy dating people, as long as they are aware of and respect my identity. I like romantically coded actions, and I seek out emotional intimacy. I’m completely comfortable with people feeling romantically about me. Strangely, I had more romantic partners after coming out as aromantic than I did before, most lasting for at least a year or more. I was even engaged to be married last year, and I'm hoping to be engaged again in the near future.

In fact, my planned future follows some fairly traditional romantic goals. My partner and I plan on getting married, having some kids, and settling down to live our lives together, although not necessarily in that order. It’s the kind of life I thought I wouldn’t be able to have after I realised I was aromantic. I convinced myself it wasn’t what I wanted, both because I thought it wouldn’t be possible for me and because the aromantic community tends to be very focused on the rejection of traditional romantic scripts. I thought that because I was aromantic I should be smashing through amatonormative expectations, a shining beacon of why traditional romance was overrated and wrong, why it's expected goals are harmful.

My partner changed everything for me.

We met through our online Dungeons and Dragons game. A friend of mine invited me after I complained that I hadn’t played in years (also about my very poor social life). Turns out, it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

At the time most people in my life (myself included) thought it was a risky one, for a multitude of reasons. I had previously had bad experiences with long distance relationships and he lived halfway across the country. I was already engaged and although I was polyamourous he had no experience with those kinds of relationships. His name started with J, and I already had (at least) 7 evil exes all starting with the same letter, two of which even shared his name. I was skirting close to 30, he was barely 21, and my previous (traumatic) long distance relationship had also been with a much younger partner. Each of those reasons alone should have been enough to give me pause. Combined, it very much felt like the odds were stacked against us.

Yet, we’re still together over a year later. Our relationship survived him moving here just three months into it, the first time we met in person. It survived the fact that he arrived just before the state borders closed and lockdown started properly, so we spent a lot of time unable to leave the house, stuck in each other’s company. It survived the breakdown (and breakup) of my engagement to my fiance, and the rocky transition as we learned to live as exes and housemates rather than partners. It survived the late nights, larger workload and infinitely more stress when I got promoted to a higher position at work. It survived, and more than that, it grew. It grew into something different than anything I have ever felt before, because in the middle of it all, I fell in love with him.

It wasn’t a sudden thing. There wasn’t one particular moment when it hit me, because I couldn’t even make sense of what I felt at first. I just knew I felt very strongly, and that it was a different feeling then I had ever had before.

Oftentimes when I ask alloromantic people what love feels like, the answer I get the most is “you just know”. Not the most helpful answer, but I don’t really blame them for it. Love is difficult to describe in a singular way. The truth is I could ask five people to describe love and get twelve different answers. Everyone has a different view on love, and it changes with each person you love. How you love them, why you love them, it changes from day to day. How could you ever properly describe the shifting nature of something that never stands still? Something that grows and changes with each action, each word and look and touch.

I don’t feel love, but I think I understand it. I sit on a very unique intersection of aromanticism and love, an experience not often seen and very seldom shared. I don’t feel love, but I’m also not romance repulsed. I don’t hate romance, or reject it. I participate in it, seek it out, even crave it. Now, I get to experience it.

Does my love feel the same as the love an alloromantic person would feel? I don’t know, and quite honestly, I don’t care. Love isn’t something that can be compared between people, because no one else can feel love the way I do, just as I can’t feel love the way someone else does. My love is as unique as I am, as unique as the person I love is. The love I feel right now will never be replicated, whether I never love again or I love a hundred thousand times.

What I do know is falling in love let me make peace with myself, and all my contradictions. I don’t have to feel love to surround myself with it, to give and receive care and affection and intimacy. I can hate amatonormativity and fight against it while also wanting traditional romantic goals for myself, because this time I chose them. I can feel at home in a community while simultaneously being an outsider, because sharing a label doesn’t mean we share all the same views, opinions and experiences. I learned about myself because of what we shared, but I also learned because of what we didn’t.

I am aromantic and I don’t feel love. I am aromantic and I am in love. Both statements are true at the same time, because humans are messy and confusing and full of contradictions. I embrace mine as part of who I am, what makes me, well, me. And there’s no one I’d rather be, than me.

#aromantic #aro #loveless aromantic #personal thoughts #long post #some thoughts I've wanted to put into words for a long time #even in loveless aro spaces I don't always see this view #someone who is loveless but also participates in romance

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inwintersolitude · 3 years

Text

- June 30th 2021 -

Your throat currently feels swollen or sore False.

You keep getting stomach aches recently False.

You keep getting bad acid reflux or GERD recently False.

You are having an endoscopy or some other procedure soon False.

You are terrified of having that procedure done -

You've been going/will be going to lots of doctors recently False, not recently, although I do have some appointments coming up in the next few months.

You have a vacation/holiday planned for this summer I'm actually currently on vacation, at the family beach villa on Hilton Head Island. And we'll most likely be coming back here in 2 months. Either here or to a cottage on Lake Superior's North Shore in Minnesota.

You will be going to a Disney park this summer False.

You will be going to the beach this summer I'm already at the beach.

You will be going to the mountains/woods this summer True.

Your favorite thing to do on vacations/holidays is try the local food True. Well, I have several favorite things about vacations, but that's definitely one of them.

You recently got to eat a favorite food you haven't had in forever True, some of the dishes my mom made at the Memorial Day cookout last month.

You recently found something in stores that you haven't been able to before Maybe. I can't remember.

You got engaged this year False, I got engaged back in 2011.

You lost a loved one within the past year False.

You are currently wearing pajama pants True.

You are currently wearing a big tshirt True.

You are currently wearing glasses True. I've already taken my contacts out and am going to bed soon.

You are currently wearing some jewelry False.

You are currently drinking water True.

You are currently watching a YouTube video False.

You are in the middle of your work day, taking a break False, I'm at the end of the day, and I've been giving myself a huge chunk of time off of work.

You either got a new job or a promotion or new tasks at work this year False.

You've finally been going out to eat again after the pandemic True.

You've been vaccinated against Covid-19 True.

You had the Pfizer vaccine True.

You still wear a mask everywhere you go just in case It depends. If it's indoors and at least somewhat crowded, then I'll wear one.

You tried therapy for the first time this year False.

It's currently extremely hot outside where you live I'm a 2-hour flight away from home right now, but apparently it was very hot there today, around 95F.

But you are wrapped in a blanket in an air conditioned home I'm not in a blanket, but we do haven the AC blasting in here. It got up to 84F here today.

Your nails are currently painted purple False, I don't paint my nails.

You currently live with your significant other True.

You've been planning a wedding or other big event False.

You are getting married in 2022! False. But my 10 year wedding anniversary is in 2022.

You are planning to move in a year or two True, most likely to buy a house in this same area, but there's also a chance we'll decide to move to Northeast Ohio or Bucks County PA. Not really sure what we want to do yet.

You will be moving across the country False.

You've been very stressed and overwhelmed recently False.

You cry once a day on average False.

There's someone you miss terribly True.

You posted on social media today True.

Your favorite social media platform is Instagram I suppose. I recently started using it again after not being on there in a long time. kel_m90 if anyone wants to follow me. :-P

Your band is [or just you are] releasing new music very soon! N/A - I'm not in a band.

It's currently the afternoon where you are False, it's 11:22 PM.

You took your pet somewhere new and fun this week Well, I dropped my birds off at the avian vet's office for boarding while we're away, but it's not a new place for them, and I highly doubt they think it's fun!

You've recently taken your pets to the vet ^ True, but not for veterinary care, just for boarding.

survey source: [Bzoink.com/S178474]

#survey #surveys #trueorfalse #personal blog

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wonderlander-i · 4 years

Text

Happily Ever After

Pairing : Oliver x F! MC

Warnings : none ( well it's not like I can write anything NSFW I'm such a disaster 😂)

Word count : 1.9k

Author's note : I didn't play distant shores just to spend the rest of my life between theatres and parties only because I'm a thot for Oliver. Hell naw.

Here's a quick rewriting for the diamond scene because I got extra emotional today and I'm not ready for the finale!

Also this is a repost because the tags weren't working on my original post is this normal?

“Now what” Oliver locked his eyes with her, gently taking her hand his.

“We could always be the high society couple and settle in London” She smiled widely, covering the back of his hand with her palm.

“I doubt that’s what you want to do” He arched an eyebrow

“How about we run away?” She smirked, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“I guess I should pack some extra pants then” He grinned, kissing the back of her hand.

“A feisty one, isn’t she?” An old sailor smiled, wiping the sweat of his forehead with a dirty cloth.

Oliver chuckled at the sight of Evelyn standing in the center of the deck of their new ship giving orders to the men around her to move and put things in the places she desired.

“Aye, she’d boss his majesty the king around if she’d got the chance to”

“Didn’t she persuade him to make her an ambassador of England?”

“She’s quite the charmer” He shook his head, a proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You’re a lucky man, ya know?” The man patted Oliver’s shoulder before walking away to carry on with his work.

At this moment, Evelyn turned her head in his direction, beaming. She smiled warmly at him. Her smile held a hundred words of unspoken promises, of eternal happiness, and of wishful dreams of sailing together to the unknown and never turning back. And in that crowded place, between all the bustling movements, the loud upbeat chatters, and crashing of the waves, nothing mattered to him except keeping that grin drawn on her face forever.

“The luckiest” He thought to himself.

“Where are you taking us” Oliver asked as she dragged him through the alleys of a busy market in a village. The rich smell of sweet and spice tickled his nose as he looked around to the million colors that surrounded them, like they were escaping from a painting, coming to life.

“Patience, Oliver” She giggled, her voice barely reached him above all the sounds of the merchants calling out their merchandise and the children playing, still running and parkouring between the food stands and the rolls of silk.

He shook his head, the corners of his lips turning up as he took in the beautiful traditional emerald green dress that she wore. She was utterly fascinated by the fashion of the world in their era. She wanted to try everything, to experience everything. Her eyes lit up with the brightest glimmer at every clothing shop they came across and he swore to himself to order her a traditional dress from every country they were sent to next. She always found her surprises wrapped in a beautiful box under her bed, and the way she’d dance in it around the room made him wonder, how could happiness be only one piece of fabric away?

Shaking his head to chase his thoughts away, his eyes widened when they emerged into a larger alley which led to a golden temple. Majestic, bold, and his books could never do he view in front of him justice. She stopped running and turned to face him, her hair flying around her like every strand of it danced to the rhythm of the overflowing music bursting from everywhere, studying his curious expressions with satisfaction.

“Well, this is worth almost tripping on a basket of cumin” He stated.

“Evelyn?” Oliver called calmly as he studied a letter with the scarlet royal seal on it. Sitting at his desk in his study room, he patiently tapped his fingers on the wooden surface until she appeared by the doorframe.

“Yes darling?” She stepped up behind him with two steamy cups of tea in her hands.

“Some papers came while you were out” He spread the letter on the table in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed. “Would you explain why this says that you had been assigned as a navigator on my ship?”

“Well they couldn’t say no to the commodore’s wife” She replied, setting the cups next to the letter and taking a closer look at it.

He turned his chair to face her, his composed expressions replaced by an anguished look.

“You don’t understand the risks” He pleaded her to change her mind, taking her hand in his “It’s a war! I don’t doubt that you can fight better than half the men the navy will ever have, but-”

“I do understand the risk” She interrupted him, determined “and that’s why I will never let you go to a war alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I will have hundreds of men, a whole royal navy unit behind me”

“And the best navigator these waters have known, with the most beautiful eyes to lead you” She smiled, leaning down to plant a kiss on his forehead. “I know you will be taking good care of all your men, but who will take care of mine?”

He sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. He rested his head on her chest and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. She smelled like sweet cinnamon, sunshine, and safety.

“It was bold of me to think that I can go that long without those cups of tea of yours”

Oliver linked his arm with hers as they took their usual evening stroll by the seaside, a picnic basket dangling from his other arm. They somehow found their peace in walking barefoot on the ivory sand, filling a glass jar with curiously colored seashells and well rounded pebbles. They earnestly deserved this undisturbed tranquility after all those years of combat in the open sea. It’s been a year since his father, the disgraced admiral, passed away. They were both astonished to learn that Oliver was to inherit his estate which was barely a quarter of a mile away from the coast line. It was more of a castle than an estate. Old fashioned, charming, and one hour later Evelyn was setting the admiral’s portraits on fire.

She grasped her shawl tighter to shield herself from the autumn breeze as they walked hand in hand. They subconsciously reached for each other’s hand frequently, constantly, all the time, everywhere. As if their linked souls sought to manifest their bound in every questionable way.

And in a matter of moments, they were already sitting on the red stripped blanket, admiring yet another sunset together. Evelyn sighed deeply, glancing sideway at the man whom she almost worshipped. He was the perfect evidence of God’s perfectionism. How could such a flawless divine creature be…human? She pursed her lips into a thin line, fearing that she might explode from all her swirling emotions. His presence filled her with the most extraordinary feelings. It was outrageous, overwhelming, yet intoxicating in the most enchanting way.

“Oliver” She whispered, taking the glass of wine from his hand and setting in on the sand.

“Yes?” He hummed

She didn’t reply. Instead, she handed him and envelope. His name was written on in with big neat letters. He recognized the handwriting to be hers. He arched an eyebrow at her unusual behavior, but he opened it with no furthermore questions.

Dear Commodore Cochrane,

I am very pleased to inform you that you have been promoted to be father

Yours truly,

Your wife.

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. His eyes darted between Evelyn and the paper in his hand for several times, and not even a word slipped from his mouth. It’s not until he saw that something was dripping on the letter, and he realized that these were his own tears, that he was pulled back to reality. His lower lip trembled as he reached with his hand to frame the side of her face, as the other moved to rest on her belly very delicately, fearing that if he presses harder she might shatter like a porcelain doll. Neither of them dared to break that sacred silence, nor knew how to. They sat there, lost in each other’s eyes as the sky changed its colors to a soft lavender hue. And if eyes were the windows of the soul, she saw pure love pouring from his. She would’ve sworn that she can’t fall for him harder, until that one moment.

Only then she knew that loving him was an endless fall, and it’s a long way down.

Evelyn sat on a bench in their little garden, her one year old son sleeping peacefully in her arms. He was carefully wrapped in a warm blanket, snuggled to her chest. She gazed at him adoringly.

“You’re the perfect replica of your father aren’t you” She hummed softly, her finger caressing his little rosy cheek. “You’ve got the same golden hair that captures the sun” Her finger moved to twirl the small blonde curl that fell on his forehead. “The same olive eyes, like the morning of a spring day encapsulated in a honey jar” And she poked his nose “And the same look of mischief, you’re always up to something aren’t you?” The little boy yawned in his sleep, and she smiled.

She felt a strong pair of arms wrap around her and her baby, and she flinched instinctively, protectively holding her son closer. But as soon as she recognized the familiar scent of morning dew and the sweet sea air, her shoulders relaxed and warmth flooded her chest.

“For how long have you been here” She asked, turning to face the grinning man.

“That’s a question which I shall not answer”

“You realize that your answer is implied, right” She rolled her eyes playfully, and the threw her head back to lay on his shoulder. “Hello there, commodore”

“I think you kind of started developing feelings for me. I’m sorry madam, but I’m a married man” He mused.

“Oliver, we are married”

“I’m afraid you’re wrong, you must’ve mistaken me for someone else”

“Oliver!” she groaned, trying her best to not wake the baby up. “Sir, we’ve married for eight years. We have a son together, we’re expecting another child soon, and if you wake him up I’ll send you on a pleasure cruise with the edge of my sword”

“Still as feisty as the day I first met you.” A deep chuckled rumbles in his throat, as he let go of her and walked around the bench to face her. He kneeled in front of her and placed a soft kiss on the forehead of their son. And out of the blue, his expressions turned grave and serious.

“Evelyn, I may not be the best at showing it, but you truly made me the happiest man in the world. I’m sorry if my time can never rise up to match the comfort of yours, I would’ve given you the whole world if I could and-”

“Shush” she effectively stopped him by placing her finger on his soft lips, her heart aching with undeniable love.

“You are my world”

“And to think that you’ll ever be any less cliché”

#oliver x mc #oliver cochrane #distant shores #playchoices #Choices #choices fanfiction #choices stories you play

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

Your throat currently feels swollen or sore Nope.

You keep getting stomach aches recently I have IBS and other stomach issues so that’s not uncommon for me, unfortunately.

You keep getting bad acid reflux or GERD recently I have that as well. D:

You are having an endoscopy or some other procedure soon No.

You are terrified of having that procedure done I would be.

You've been going/will be going to lots of doctors recently Yes. One I have to see once a week.

You have a vacation/holiday planned for this summer I want to, but nothing is confirmed as of now. I really need a beach trip. I’d like to go for my birthday.

You will be going to a Disney park this summer No.

You will be going to the beach this summer I want to!

You will be going to the mountains/woods this summer No.

Your favorite thing to do on vacations/holidays is try the local food I like to get food for sure, but it’s not my favorite thing.

You recently got to eat a favorite food you haven't had in forever No, I eat my favorite foods often.

You recently found something in stores that you haven't been able to before No.

You got engaged this year Definitely not. I’m very much single.

You lost a loved one within the past year No, thankfully.

You are currently wearing pajama pants No.

You are currently wearing a big tshirt I am.

You are currently wearing glasses Yep, always.

You are currently wearing some jewelry False.

You are currently drinking water I’m about to.

You are currently watching a YouTube video Nope.

You are in the middle of your work day, taking a break No, I don’t have a job. I’m currently in bed doing this and watching The Golden Girls.

You either got a new job or a promotion or new tasks at work this year --

You've finally been going out to eat again after the pandemic Yes, actually. Twice so far.

You've been vaccinated against Covid-19 No.

You had the Pfizer vaccine --

You still wear a mask everywhere you go just in case Yes. I plan to for the foreseeable future.

You tried therapy for the first time this year I’ve been trying to find one and set something up. It hasn’t been easy.

It's currently extremely hot outside where you live Ugh, yes. D:

But you are wrapped in a blanket in an air conditioned home No, I wish. Our AC sucks.

Your nails are currently painted purple No, they’re not painted at all.

You currently live with your significant other I’m single. I live with my parents and brother.

You've been planning a wedding or other big event Nope.

You are getting married in 2022! Nopeee.

You are planning to move in a year or two My family and I would like to.

You will be moving across the country No.

You've been very stressed and overwhelmed recently That’s an understatement.

You cry once a day on average That’s honesty true nowadays.

There's someone you miss terribly I’ll always miss my loved ones who have passed.

You posted on social media today I’ve posted on here.

Your favorite social media platform is Instagram Nope.

Your band is [or just you are] releasing new music very soon! I’m not in a band nor am I a musical artist. I have zero musical talent, sadly.

It's currently the afternoon where you are It’s 2:45PM.

You took your pet somewhere new and fun this week No.

You've recently taken your pets to the vet No.

survey source: [Bzoink.com/S178474]

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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sweet-teas-writing · 4 years

Text

A Woman Scorned (Chp 3)

A/N: Hello beautiful people :) I'm so happy that you enjoyed the first two chapters last week! It makes me proud to know you're enjoying the story so far. And now here is a brand new Saturday, which means a brand new chapter. I will be posting each new chapter on Saturday, and, in this one, our dearest Ava will finally meet her old flame Alastor. Hope you guys enjoy and I love you all so much! Feel free to ask to be tagged into the tag list if you are not already.

Three: Ava, Meet Alastor

The sound of my alarm and the sun shining in from the window woke me up from a sound sleep. I groaned in annoyance and a bit of pain due to a slight headache as I sat up in the bed and looked over to my right. Jason was still asleep, snoring lightly. I glared angrily at him, wishing I could burn a hole through his skull. I hated… no I loathed him. The way he talks to me, the constant cheating. He told me that I wasn't good enough for him. But yet, the naive, heart-struck little girl in me was still in love with him, which is why I still put up with his shit. My head and my heart were always at constant war with each other, and each day it gets so hard on who to listen to.

I rubbed my temples, my headache starting to feel worse and took a deep sigh. I had to get it together, I had my big meeting today and I can't afford to get distracted. I got out of bed, making sure I didn't wake Jason, and headed to the bathroom to get ready. I opened the medicine cabinet and took two aspirin followed by a glass of water. I sprayed water in my hair and added my curling cream, making sure my bouncy curls stood out. I fluffed them out with a pick and side parted my hair. After taking a quick look in the mirror, I began to put on my makeup. I added some extra concealer to hide the puffiness around my eyes, followed by some eyeshadow and lip gloss. Satisfied, I walked over to the closet and pulled out my favorite white blouse and black slacks. After getting dressed, I put on my black stilettos, grabbed my blazer and purse, and grabbed a banana and a bottle of water before heading out the door.

Once I reached my car and climbed inside, I rolled down my windows and turned on the radio to find some upbeat music to listen to, needing a pick me up. While scrolling, I heard Mary J. Blige's song "Real Love" blast through the radio and it spoke to me. Her lyrics sang right through my soul, and I couldn't help but sing along loudly as I put on my sunglasses and drove out of the parking lot of my condo complex, feeling the cool, early morning Miami breeze and the warm sun.

I stopped for some coffee and a bagel before I arrived at my office. I walked into the meeting room to see Yolanda, Blake, and the rest of my team sitting around the table listening to a man tell some kind of story. I wasn't even paying attention to what he was actually saying because I was so fixated on his voice: confident, boisterous, and deep. His laugh made my body tingle; his speech so eloquent and charming that I could listen to him speak for hours. I knew that voice anywhere.

Yolanda saw me from the door and smiled, inviting me in.

"Ava! You're here! Come on in," she said. "There's someone we would like you to meet."

Everyone stood up from their seats, Blake had a devilish grin on his face, as Yolanda and our new client walked over to where I was standing. He wore a black suit with a crimson vest and tie and a neatly white pressed dress shirt. His shoes were also black but were lined with crimson accents. He was a very sharp dressed man. Upon looking at me, those bright, hazel eyes of his shone with adoration. A huge smile plastered his face, showing two rows of pearly white teeth. His hair, dark chocolate and thick, was coifed perfectly on top of his head. And he walked with a mixture of both grace and confidence. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face upon seeing him.

Yolanda gave me a quick hug before introducing me to our new client: "Ava, I would like you to meet our newest client to Springwells Marketing Agency, Alastor Montez. Alastor, this is the head of our marketing team, Ava…"

"Ava Thomas-Sanchez," Alastor said admiringly as he extended his hand out to me. "You still look as breathtaking as when we were in college. It is so good to see you again, my dear."

I chuckled before accepting his greeting. "It's actually Mitchell now," I told him as Alastor glanced at my wedding ring. "I'm... married."

Alastor blinked followed by a brief nod of his head. "Forgive me," he said apologetically. "Mrs. Mitchell."

I winced inwardly at his words. Why did that sound so gross? "It's okay," I said with a grin. "It's great to see you too, Alastor. I am really looking forward to working with you."

"As am I," he said.

I couldn't help but stare at him. It doesn't look like he's aged since college. His physique through his suit was noticeable, his chest large and impressive through his clothes. I would be lying if I said Alastor wasn't an attractive man. But I'm a married woman, so he is off limits. Strictly business and strictly professional.

Yolanda spoke up breaking me out of my trance: "So," she piped. "Shall we get started?"

Alastor and I look towards her: "Right, yes," I stammered. "Let's get started."

Alastor and Yolanda returned to their seats and the rest of the team sat down as I stood at the head of the table. I placed Alastor's file in front of me and turned to face him.

"So, you were mainly selling your products to a lot of wineries and country clubs back in California?" I asked Alastor.

"Indeed I was my dear," Alastor responded, the charm and flirtation thick in his voice. "California was known for producing wine so I figured it was the perfect place to set up my business. I started off at a few places here and there until the demand for my product grew, not just in California but across the West Coast. Most of the men who bought from me purchased cigars as well, because who doesn't like to smoke while drinking?" Alastor chuckled and my team were just hypnotized by his voice.

"So why the move to Miami?" I asked him curiously.

"Ah, Miami is an expert on knowing how to have a good time," Alastor stated confidently. "The number of nightclubs and restaurants here will make anyone here buy wine and cigars. Plus, I was bored out in California. I thought I needed a new change of…" he looked at me with a smirk. "Scenery."

I choked a bit before clearing my throat. Blake covered his mouth to stifle a laugh and Yolanda couldn't help but smile at my embarrassment.

"Right," I said after a moment. "Well, here at Springwells, we like to collaborate with our clients on the kinds of advertising that are best to promote their products to revenue the most profit than your competitors. According to your file, your distribution factory is set out in Orlando, and you charge $25 for each bottle and $80 for each box of cigars."

"Again, correct," Alastor said with a nod.

"So I would think it would be best to advertise in the upper class areas of Miami. Country clubbers, nightclub owners, charity donators, anyone who is willing to spend on the finer things. Maybe host a wine tasting event, add a couple of your cigars, anything to sell your product to your audience. We will work on the billboards and magazine ads to get your products out to the public."

"So determined," Alastor said with a grin. "You were always known to have such a bright mind, Ava."

"I'm flattered," I chuckled. "All I want is the best for our client, and I'm willing to do anything to achieve the satisfaction of them."

"Really now? I feel like I can be easily satisfied," Alastor said with a wink.

"You are very flirtatious today," I said shaking my head.

"Call it natural charm," Alastor chuckled.

I scoffed amusingly. "Same old Alastor."

"You know you've missed me," he chuckled.

"Well," I said to my team trying to tune him out. "We will get started immediately. We will attempt to get this done within the next two months, okay? Everyone get to work."

My team- minus Yolanda and Blake- snickered at me as they got up from the table and walked out of the meeting room. Alastor soon stood up from the table and made his way in front of me, holding out a small piece of paper.

"If you ever need to reach me," he said placing the paper in my palm. "You are more than welcome to give me a call."

I raised an eyebrow. "You do know I have your number in your file right?"

Alastor shrugged. "Well that's my business number. This one is a little more… personal."

I felt another blush creep up on my face but I immediately shook my head. "I…"

Yolanda took the piece of paper from my hand. "Thank you, Mr. Montez. That's very thoughtful."

Alastor shook his head and grinned. "Ah, my dear, you don't have to be so formal. Call me Alastor." He looked over at Blake still sitting down. "Both of you can."

"Mm, I'll call you whatever you want me to," Blake said with a wink.

Yolanda opened her mouth in soft gasp. "Okay. Alastor."

Alastor laughed. "You have very charming friends," he said to me. "It's good to see you again, Ava."

I nodded my head and bit the corner of my lip. "You too, Alastor. Um… I'll call you with the updates as we continue to work on expanding your business."

"I look forward to hearing your voice," he whispered.

I sped walked towards the meeting door: "Okay, time for you to go! Have a lot of work to do," I quickly said.

Alastor chuckled again and held up his hands. "Okay okay. I'll go. It's so cute to see you get all flustered." He turned to Yolanda and Blake. "It's a pleasure to meet you Yolanda. And you too, Blake."

"Oh honey, the pleasure was all mine," Blake said as Alastor walked out of the door towards the elevators.

I sat down at one of the tables and groaned aloud, shielding my face with my hands. Yolanda and Blame stood over me, with Blake having a cocky smile on his face and Yolanda a faint blush on her cheeks.

"God, that is a man right there," Blake sighed dreamily. "Charming, successful, and sexy as fuck. So much better than seeing a picture. I mean I would never cheat on Damian but… whew."

"He was quite the looker," Yolanda admitted. "But it seems he was quite interested in you, mami," she said to me. "He couldn't keep his eyes off you."

I whined through my hands. "He hasn't changed since college," I muffled. "Still as flirtatious as ever."

"I don't see the problem with it," Blake stated. "It's obvious he still wants you."

I lowered my hands and held up my left hand to Blake, showing my wedding ring.

"Oh," Blake shrugged. "Honey, live a little. There's nothing wrong with making another 'friend.'"

Yolanda scoffed: "I'm sure he wants to be a little more than friends."

I ignored my friends comments: "There will be nothing going on between me and Alastor. I'm a married woman and he is my client. It will be a completely professional relationship."

Blake chuckled: "Whatever you say, love."

Yolanda hugged and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Ignore his teasing, Ava. You know what's best for you. Follow your heart."

I leaned back into her arms. "I know, 'Landa. Thank you."

Blake rolled his eyes. "Why am I the bad guy here?"

"Cause you're always teasing her," Yolanda stated.

"Can't help she's easy to tease," Blake joked. "I'm sure Alastor can make her blush just as much as I do…"

"Blake shut up!"

**TBC**

Tag List: @sirenascales @masked--empress @evilangel84 @wwevampireamongkpop @queen-legacy-productions @superrezzy00 @neversatisfiedgirlfics @defenseofourdreams6277 @writing-reigns and anyone else who wants to read it!

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leah-halliwell92 · 5 years

Text

Doesn’t Really Matter

Summary: Taylor Mae Miller has been friends with Adam since they were in high school and a musician in he own right and has known Queen for just about the same time he’s been touring with them. Their bond strong and growing ever stronger, Mae decides to move across the pond not only to be closer to her new found friends but to get away from her volatile and toxic relationship thrust on her by her mother. Will her new found family be enough to reassure her that she is loved?

Warning and Disclaimer: I own nothing!! Lewd content mentioning.

“Roger’s gonna kill you,” Adam, your best and longest friend said with a laugh as he enveloped an equally happy Mae in a hug that lifted her up off the ground.

“I know, but I’m not in the mood to celebrate or be celebrated on,” she said with a physically tired and emotionally strained grin.

His eyes fell concern blinking through them, “What did she do?”

Mae shrugged with a wet chuckle and weak shrug as she said, “What hasn’t she done you mean.”

Adam’s eyes dimmed as concern and pulled her to him in a side hug as they made their way to the conveyor belt to pick up her suitcase.

Bags in hand the couple made their way to the car where Adam with a kind smile said, “We’re going to lunch to talk and relax. You’re in this whole new world just waiting to be explored,”

Mae nodded still not believing it.

“Taylor Mae!” He called with a small laugh, “Your ma is not here to tell you what or who to do!”

Mae nodded with her own small smile, “You’re right. But I can’t help but feel like something bad’s gonna happen.”

“If I were anyone else I’d say you’re paranoid,” Adam said conversationally, “But I have the insight of knowing your ma so...”

Mae nodded, “Not to mention Sean...”

“Don’t tell me she’s still pushing you to be with him,” Adam said exasperatedly.

Mae rolled her eyes as her answer.

“Thank God we’re at a red light,” Adam retorted to the eye roll.

“Dude no joke, she’s been trying to shove him down or up any hole that’s open in my body. The fact that I tour hasn’t make her give up on that one effing bit,” Mae said finally opening up about how bad her relationship with her mother had gotten over the past two to three years, “Ever since I’ve hit the big leagues in music and started working more between writing, concerts and music videos she’s really been on my case about how he’s the only man who will take me working as much as I can, the only one that this, the only one that that. It drove me and still drives me up a wall.”

“You mean to tell me your mother’s been selling you to Sean and viceversa?” He said in shock.

Mae nods with an exasperated sigh.

“I’d marry you in heartbeat if your ma didn’t know I’m gay,” Adam said with a small laugh.

“I know but that would be too much like marrying my brother so thanks but no thanks,” Mae said laughing.

The friends laughed giving Mae the taste of freedom she had been looking (longing) for from the moment she set foot on the plane for the UK.

“Speaking of dear mother, does she know where you are?” Adam asked as he pulled into the garage of what will be her new apartment.

“No, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she showed up here in the next few days,” Mae said honestly.

“Is that why you told me to buy door locks?” Adam asked with a knowing look.

“Yep...and why I’m letting her have her show so the door man knows who not to let into the complex,” Mae said with a weary sigh.

“How do you think your ma will find you if you straight up just picked up and left?” Adam asked curiously.

“According to her, Sean knows people. I can guess that these ‘people’ will tell him I’ve left the country other wise they’re going to need to go through my agent who’s under strict instructions that he doesn’t for any reason unless necessary have to interact at all with my mother. He made it clear that he’d any call to me from her that made it’s way to his voicemail would be forwarded to me,” Mae said with a sigh, “As for where I am? She’s going to be bugging Jesse for that information.”

“I thought Jesse—”

“Jesse found ma and Sean...um, in the heat of the moment if you get my drift,” Mae said with an uncomfortable look on her face, “Now I’m all for age is a number but when you ma sleeps with her daughter’s attacker...?”

Mae got green just thinking about it.

Adam nodded a sick look on his face.

“Meaning he went to Clair about the trial and has been apologizing for being an ass ever since,” Mae said a sad smile on her face, “Last time we talked, he said he was promoted and had saved up enough to move out of ma’s place finally.”

Adam gave his friend and happy grin at that and parked the car in the first available space.

“So...food?” Mae asked when she stepped out of the car bag in hand.

“Don’t worry about it and let me do all the work ok?” Adam asked with a laugh as he pulled her along.

While in Harrods, Adam got a call from Roger.

“Around what time should we be at the airport for Mae?” The drummer asked.

“Well...here’s the thing...” Adam went to tell him how he’d gotten a call from Mae. He explained as little as he could while still being thorough, some parts weren’t his story to tell.

“You mean to tell me—”

Adam heard as Roger was called out by someone probably Sarina but shook his head and made rash decision as he saw Mae approach him, “I gotta go ma.”

“You’ve got to be joking! You’re bloody well not hanging up!” Roger practically yelled into the receiver.

“Yea I’ll tell Mae you send your love, love you to ma!!” Adam said quickly before hanging up.

“Don—”

Adam hung up and plastered a smile on his face, “Mom sends her love.”

Mae gave him an odd look but shook it off as jet lag fatigue. She let Adam take her to a nearby cafe for tea and something light before heading to her new home.

Adam dropped Mae off and went on the hunt for an air mattress and bedding swearing up a storm that your things weren’t going to get there till the end of the week.

“You are the maddest and most infuriating woman I have ever met,” Roger said as he walked into the still empty apartment exasperation and annoyance dripping from every word.

“Coming from the great Roger Taylor that is complement,” Mae said with a smirk as she moved over to let Roger in fully, “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Didn't Bri tell you we were going to pick you up at the airport?” He asked incredulously.

Mae shook her head and went to close the door when Adam decided it was a good idea, and good timing, to burst in bags of food, an air mattress and bedding in hand followed by Bri, his wife Anita and Roger’s wife Sarina.

“It wasn’t a problem to get a cab Rog!” Mae called to Roger between hugs and kisses, “Or call Adam.”

“Nearly gave him a heart attack,” Sarina said with a giggle, “He was looking forward to picking you up to go for lunch.”

“Yeah...no,” Mae said with a small laugh as Brian pulled her to his side as Adam and Anita set up the kitchen island with the plates that came with the take away as Roger took the containers of food out of the bags.

“Why not it wouldn’t have been that bad,” Rog said as he rinsed his hands in the kitchen sink.

“Yes it would have been because you’d have done what my mother didn’t and doesn’t do,” Mae said with a laugh.

“And what’s that little May?” Rog said cockily.

“Mother me Rogerina,” Mae said with just as much heat as him before sighing deeply, “Plus...there were things I needed about talk with Adam.”

Anita knew that look and pulled Mae away from her husband and to the end of the hall away from prying eyes where Mae practically fell into the older woman’s embrace in a heap of sobs.

“It’s alright love let it out,” she said soothingly as she ran her fingers through Mae’s loose hair.

Sarina caught the boys about to go see what was going on but stopped them, “You two can’t be that thick, don’t you remember what she told us about her mother?”

Brian’s eyes widened and looked to Adam who stood a little ways away from them a sad and surprisingly guarded on his usually open and happy features.

“What happened when she called you Adam?” Brian asked quietly as he approached the younger man.

Adam sighed and told him all that Mae had told him on the way from the airport to Harrods and how quiet she got on their way to the apartment.

Sarina and Roger listened intently and frowned at the audacity of some parents. Now they knew why Mae didn’t speak of home often, if at all, and why the subject of her mother is such a sensitive one.

“All we can do is be there for her,” Adam said honestly.

“We’ve known each other for almost a year, you’d think we’d be able to tell when one of ours is in trouble,” Roger commented almost to himself.

Adam shook his head in the negative, “She’s very guarded about it. Its not about trust, she’s scared that the truth will chase away any and all support she finds either through friends or even potential partners. I’ve met her mother and she is more than a little intense.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Roger said in awe.

“Oh it can believe me,” Adam said with an exasperated sigh, “We lived in the same town but on opposite sides. She grew up in the conservative side where high society thrived and prejudice lingered.”

“What do you mean?” Brian asked curiously.

“Mae was partly raised by her grandparents, her ma had even then history of being a bit...um...more than just strict with her family,” Adam said scratching his head uncomfortably.

Brian gave a nod and went in search of his two girls.

“I can’t go back,” Mae said as she took deep breaths to calm herself down.

“And you don’t have to,” Anita said as she held her.

Mae nodded and let Anita pull away to get a better look at her.

“You are not alone in this Mae and most importantly you have family here and support, do not be afraid to ask any of us for help should you need it,” Anita said fiercely.

Mae felt tears fall again but this time they were tears of joy.

Anita pulled her in for another hug.

“Is there room for one more?” Brian asked as he approached the hugging women.

The pair let out wet chuckles and nodded.

Brian didn’t waste any time gathering them up in a warm hug.

“Alright?” He asked looking at Mae.

“No but getting there,” Mae said honestly.

“Come on Bug lets go eat before Roger its it all,” Brian said using her pet name.

Mae chuckled and leaned into his frame as they walked out.

Once out Sarina wasted no time in enveloping Mae in a Mama Bear hug.

“Sar I’m ok,” Mae said with a laugh.

“No your not, but you will be after I have a friendly chat with your mum,” Roger said seriously.

“No you won’t,” Mae said with feeling.

The group went to the kitchen and proceeded to eat their food.

“Adam said you were raised by your grandparents,” Roger said lightly, or as lightly as one could start a conversation like this.

Adam coughed and concentrated on eating.

“Don’t worry Adam, they deserve to know about why I am how I am,” Mae said reassuring her oldest friend, “And to answer your question, yes I was. Still am to some point I don’t really know where’d I’d be if it weren’t for them. And as I’m pretty sure Adam has told you, I grew up on the ‘nicer’ part of town where status and money spoke for the character of a person instead of their character doing the actual talking.”

The group quieted down and waited for Mae to continue with her story.

“My grams and babo were, well are hippies. Go with the flow and take everything one step at a time, even goin as far as to jumping head first for somethings,” Mae said with a fond smile, “According to my uncle, Grams was ecstatic about having another girl to dote on. The only problem was that my mother was going through some things both legally and in her personal life where she couldn’t keep me. Depending on who you ask in my family, one person will say that my mother was looking to not having me. Someone else will say that she just needed me taken care of in the meantime and then there’s her explanation.”

“Which is?” Sarina asked seriously.

“That with my conception she was promised more time to get her affairs in order before my father left her,” Mae said face blank, “She says that it was having me was a blessing and that she loves me very much.”

Mae gave a mirthless laugh, “I honestly believe she loves me in her own way because I gave her time to settle her child and spousal support. Any way, my grandparents took me basically from the time I was born. I remember growing up to the sound of Elvis and The Beatles as I ran from one corner of the house to the other. Queen and Bowie when it was just my Grams and I,” She said fondly.

“Your gramps didnt like Queen did he?” Adam said a mischievous glint in his eye.

“You child you promised you werent going to bring it up!” Mae said with a laugh as she threw a balled up napkin at him.

“Bring what up?” Roger asked curiously the rest of the group mirroring what he had asked.

“Nothing,” Mae said trying to change the subject.

“Bring her name up,” Adam said taking drink.

“What about her name? Her name’s Mae right?” Brian said after eating a bite of his own plate.

Mae nods with a groan letting her head fall forward, “Mae is my middle name.”

“What’s your first name then?” Roger asked.

“Babo didnt like Queen because Gram’s crushes are a part of it,” Mae hinted.

Sarina was the first to get it and gave Anita a nudge. The elder of the two nodded with a knowing smile.

“I don’t get it,” Roger said sending Brian questioning looks.

Brian in turn looked as lost as his best friend.

Mae let out a groan and said, “Grams crushed on five artist. David Bowie and all members of Queen. My name isn’t Bowie so I was not named after Ziggy.”

The group laughed at that.

“Grams always fawns that she named me after her favorites,” she said a hint of a smile that carried affection not only for her parents but her namesakes.

Anita and Sarina shared a laugh as Brian came too first.

Mae nodded at his silent question.

“Ok...we all know you were named after the Poodle but what’s your first name?” Roger asked getting antsy.

“I was named after a dentist,” Mae with a knowing smile as she took a bite out of her plate.

Roger coughed as the drink he was taking went down the wrong pipe.

Mae laughed and said, “My name is Taylor Mae Miller.”

(Do you all want a Part 2?)

Tag List: @queenattheopera, @ramibaby, @theborhapboysawakenedmywhatever

#Brian May #Roger Taylor #Queen band #Adam Lambert #Adam is a good pseudo brother

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roslinadama-sinequanon · 5 years

Text

Saying Good-Bye To Yesterday-Chapter 9

In this chapter: Andy, Sharon, and Rusty struggle with a difficult case that is hitting close to home. Sharon sees some parallels between how Rusty is feeling in his relationship with Gus and how she felt at the beginning with Jack.

You can read it here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13004092/9/Saying-Good-Bye-to-Yesterday or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321687/chapters/41186072 or right here

“You know, I really don’t understand it. I’ve been taking the anti-inflammatory pills, I’m doing the exercises they gave me at physical therapy, and it doesn’t hurt anymore, so why do I sometimes still get that tingling in my hand?” Andy looked across the dining room table as if Sharon could give him the answers his doctor couldn’t. Because until that damn tingling went away they weren’t going to allow him back in the field.

“Eventually you will agree with me, that it’s stress.”

“Stress? I don’t feel stress. I mean where would this stress come from?”

“Well, being part of a mass shooting where your friends and colleagues were shot and killed in front of you is pretty stressful, not knowing who is going to replace Taylor is stressful, going across the country with your whole family and meeting your girlfriend’s parents can be stressful, and I am pretty certain that asking someone to marry you can be a little stressful, and---“ She cut off her litany of stress when she heard the door open.

“Rusty?” She’d only seen him briefly that morning at work and when she‘d discreetly questioned him regarding his breakfast meeting with Gus, he‘d simply told her he didn‘t know how to talk about yet. That, along with his hangdog expression, and general disinterest and disengagement in their case, told her that it hadn’t gone well at all.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” His voice trailed off as he disappeared down the hall into his bedroom.

Andy took in her worry, along with Rusty’s lack of appetite, and jumped to a different conclusion. “So, uh, did you get a chance to say anything to him yet about the Stroh report?”

“No, no, no. At this point, it’s just conjecture. You know what, excuse me.” Her boy was hurting and Mama Sharon could not let that go without offering some type of comfort.

Rusty’s door was slightly ajar. She gave a couple knocks and pushed it open to find him sprawled on his back on the bed. Entering his room, she leaned back against the dresser. “What happened with Gus?” She asked.

“I gave him all the reasons I felt it was a bad idea to move in together. I’m still in college, I have law school after that. It will probably be years before I get a real job.”

“And he broke up with you?”

“No, he didn’t. He gave me that big smile of his like it’s always the best day ever, and he said that his new promotion would let him pay for all of our living expenses and then some.”

“And you still said no.”

“Yeah, I did. And then he broke up with me.”

“Is there any other reason why you said no?”

“It just doesn’t feel right. Is that a reason? And also there’s this really loud voice in my head screaming don’t do it.”

A chill of recognition ran through Sharon’s veins. Those same voices had screamed at her not to marry Jack, only she hadn’t listened to them. She’d shoved them aside, ignoring them until it was too late. “Instinct. Ask any cop. Sometimes there’s a shiver that runs up your spine and you have to pay attention to that.”

“But I’ve never loved anyone the way that I love Gus and the idea of never seeing him again makes me sick to my stomach.

“Which is why, once you’ve identified your instinct, then you’ve got to try to figure out where it came from in the first place and see if you can better explain yourself to Gus.”

“I guess. Mom, I don’t mean to be rude, but I think I’d just like to be alone right now.”

Sharon nodded but bent to kiss the top of his head before she left. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

*****

“Everything okay?” Andy asked when she joined him back at the table.

“Mmmm….” She sat back in her chair, lost in her thoughts.

He eyed the platter of fish that lay between them. “Are you going to eat that?”

“No, I think I lost my appetite.“

Andy speared the last piece of salmon, taking a bite before asking, “So you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Gus broke up with Rusty.”

“You’re kidding.”

She quirked a brow. “You sound surprised.”

“Well, yeah. I am. I guess I gave the kid more credit than he deserved. I thought he loved Rusty.”

“I think maybe he does.”

“Breaking up with him is a funny way to show it.”

“Hmm…”

“If it is love, it’s immature love. Selfish love. And if that‘s the case, he‘s definitely better off not moving in with him.”

She watched Andy continue to dig into his meal, finally asking, “Would you care to elaborate?”

He set down his fork and pushed his plate away. “Look, I’ve been where Gus is. I had a hard time getting up the courage to ask you to move in with me. When it’s something you want that badly, it’s a risk. But, like I said last night, if you’d said no, that you weren’t ready, I sure as hell wouldn’t have broken up with you. You’re not doing what I want, so I’m going to dump you?“ His face twisted with derision. “How selfish is that?”

She nodded in agreement.

“I‘m not saying I wouldn’t have been hurt or disappointed, but break up with you because you weren‘t on the same timeline as me? Hell no. I mean, seriously, how do you go from one minute wanting to share your entire life with someone to the next minute cutting them completely out of it?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like he’s cutting his losses.”

“Well, I never would have done that. That isn‘t love.“

“I know.” She rested her hand over his with a tender smile. If there was one thing she was certain of in this uncertain world, it was how much Andy loved her.

“I would have just worked even harder to bring you around.”

She lifted the hand she’d covered and kissed the back of it. “I know you would have. You are very stubborn. And very persuasive.”

“You know it. No way was I ever going to lose you.”

“Well, you were never in jeopardy of that happening. And, let’s remember, this is Rusty we’re talking about. Communicating his feelings is not his strong point. Who knows how he responded to Gus.”

“Doesn’t matter. If Gus is ready to move in with him, he ought to know the kid’s baggage by now. I knew yours and I was prepared it.”

“Yes, you were.” She suppressed a smile at the memory. She’d told him they would talk about him selling his house and moving in together over dinner. But, before allowing her a simple yes or no, he’d carefully laid out all the benefits of living together. And, having already anticipated all the questions and concerns she might have, he had his answers in place. For a man who would have been happy jumping right into things, it was clear that he had done a lot of preparation. They were oil and water that way. He was impetuous, while she was all about meticulous planning. The fact that he understood and respected that about her, had warmed her heart and convinced her even more that she was making the right decision.

“And then you surprised me. When you said yes right away, it threw me off my game. I still had a lot of arguments left.”

“Oh, and I ruined that for that you.”

He grinned at the amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hardly. You made my night.” He’d been so nervous walking into that restaurant. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to eat a thing until he had her answer. When she‘d said yes, it had turned the meal into a celebration.

“Well, I was ready and I wanted to share my life with you as much as you wanted to share yours with me. But, you know, with filling out the annulment paperwork, I’ve been thinking a lot about my marriage and I understand how Rusty is feeling right now. Gus is his first love. He‘s terrified of losing him and never feeling that way again, even when every instinct he has is screaming at him that he isn’t ready.”

“You sound like you speak from experience. Is that how you felt with Jack?”

She nodded sadly, with a resigned sigh. “Yes. I knew I wasn’t ready, and I knew I shouldn’t let him pressure me. But, I was so afraid of losing him. Looking back, I know what a red flag that was, but I was so young and so inexperienced. I thought I’d never feel the way I was feeling for him ever again.”

He nodded with understanding. “It’s hard when you’re young to know the difference between selfish love, love, and forever love.”

“Mmm, that‘s the truth… I thought Jack pressuring me to marry him was an indication of his passionate love for me. I thought it was romantic. Now I know it was all about fear and selfishness. He wanted me out here because he didn’t want to be alone, and because he was afraid that he was going to lose me if I went off to Yale and started to work toward my own dreams. Neither of us really trusted the other, and you can’t build a life with a foundation lacking in trust.”

“No, you can’t.” Lack of trust had been a huge issue in his marriage as well.

“What I have with you is so different.” She rose from the table and moved to him, sitting on his lap and cupping his face in her palms. “You‘re my forever love, Andy.”

“And you’re mine. “ His words were muffled against her mouth when she pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. Then she pulled back, continuing to stroke her fingertips over the planes of his cheeks, her eyes searching his, reading nothing but truth and love in their soft, melted chocolate depths.

“You know, I used to think that kind of stuff was bullshit,“ he said. A few years ago, the term forever love would have had him scoffing and rolling his eyes. “But the things that I feel for you, and the way that I feel about us, it’s not like anything I’ve ever felt for anyone before. Ever. ” He pulled the hand that was stroking his face toward his mouth and kissed her palm with a reverence that caused Sharon’s breath to catch in her chest.

“Oh, God.”

They both gave a start, the romantic moment cut short by Rusty coming around the corner from the living room with a disgusted groan. A few months ago, they might have jumped apart, but now they were comfortable in their relationship and unafraid to show affection in front of others.

Rusty put his head down and made his way into the kitchen, ignoring what was going on in the dining room. “Don’t mind me, I’m just getting a drink.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Andy assured him, holding Sharon in place on his lap when she started to rise.

Although Rusty shook his head as he opened the refrigerator, the little intimate moment was far less compromising than some of the positions he’d caught them in in the past. Still, given the tender state of his heart, witnessing anything romantic hurt.

Sharon’s phone went off where she’d left it near her plate and she rose to answer it. “Hello, Mike.” She listened to what her Lieutenant had to say, responded, and then hung up.

Andy was already on his feet, grabbing for the suit coat he’d discarded when they got home from work. He’d heard enough from her side of the conversation to know where they were going. “Back to headquarters?“

She nodded. “Back to headquarters.”

******

A break had come in their latest case. Money was found. A lot of money. Apparently, their murder victim, Gavin Jacobs, while working for a security company, had stolen computers from his clients and was then using what he found on their hard drives to blackmail them. Mike had been trying throughout the night to get through the encryption and find out what was on his computer, as that would ultimately show them who had the most to gain from his death. Meanwhile, the rest of the team was in the process of interviewing the 13 people who’d had their laptops stolen. Sharon was watching one of those interviews, along with Andy, Andrea, Rusty, Wes and Buzz when Mike entered the room.

“Captain, we cracked the password on the victim’s laptop, but I just want to say, prepare yourselves.”

Sharon paused mid-rise at those ominous words and sat back down, steeling herself for what was to come. She knew it was going to be bad, not just from Tao’s solemn warning, but by the way Julio was unable to meet her eyes when she entered the murder room. Still, one could never be completely prepared to process the kind of despicable perversion that popped up on the computer screen when Mike hit play. At the first sight of the naked young girl in the midst of a carnal act she should have been years away from partaking in, her stomach fell and clenched. For a moment, she thought she might be sick. Corpses she could deal with, but this…this…

“Now we know why all the extra effort to protect his files,” Julio stated flatly.

“Oh my God, how old are those girls?” Amy asked.

“11...12” Mike responded without looking at the screen. He‘d seen more than enough.

“Eh Gods.” Provenza shook his head with disgust and walked away.

Rusty got a glimpse of what was on the screen, then, processing the revulsion on display in the room, he was overcome by a sickening wave of shame. Those girls, they were only a year or two younger than he was when he’d started turning tricks on the street. One guy had even offered him a lot of money to make a video. When he‘d seen the camera, he pretended to go along with it, then when the guy was in the bathroom, he’d run away and lost almost a whole nights pay. That could have been him they were all watching. The very idea of his mother seeing him like that, of having that look that she had right now, a combination of dismay and repugnance, made him want to run. In the past, he would have run, and it took every ounce of strength that he had to remain rooted in the same spot. You can’t run from your past, it follows you wherever you go. Words of wisdom that his mother had been impressing upon him for years.

“Stop, stop, Mike, I’ve had enough.” Sharon closed her eyes with relief when Mike shut the laptop and she didn’t have to watch any more of that filth.

“Gavin has a ton of this stuff on his hard drive.”

Sharon swallowed against the bile that rose in her throat.

“Okay, first we should make sure that neither the victim nor his roommate were depicted in any of these videos or photos. Or their clothes or furniture.”

Sharon could hear Andrea speaking. She understood what she was saying, yet, even although Mike had shut the screen, she was still trying to work through what she’d just witnessed. She took a deep breath. Breaking down over this wasn’t going to get them anywhere. She was a professional, she had to keep it together and nail the pervert who got off on this stuff and the ones profiteering from it. “Mike, call the FBI and tell them what we’ve got here and see if they can help us clarify where these pictures came from.” She walked away, needing to distance herself from those videos.

“Did all this stuff belong to the victim or someone he was blackmailing?” Rusty asked Provenza.

“That‘s what we‘re gonna have to try and find out. Human beings, what a species, huh?”

“Sharon?” Andy glanced up when she paused at his desk. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, um. Just tired.“ She rubbed at her temples. They’d worked right through the night and it was now almost noon. “There’s really nothing more we can do here until the FBI goes through everything. I think we should go home and get some sleep.”

“It has been a long night,” he agreed.

“You want to stop and get some lunch?” She asked as they got on the elevator. The bagels and coffee Wes had brought them at 6:30 am had long since worn off.

“No. After watching that crap I don’t have much of an appetite,” Andy said. “I think I just want to get a few hours of shut-eye. You?”

“I’m good.”

*****

Back at the condo, they were both too tired to do much more than strip off their clothes and slip under the covers in their underwear, falling sound asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. When they awakened almost six hours later, it was dark in the bedroom.

“You gonna take a shower?” Andy asked when the alarm went off.

“No, I’m too tired to deal with drying my hair tonight. I’ll take one in the morning.”

“Me too.”

Sharon swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment in her bra and panties, yawning and stretching her limbs. Her stomach gave a little rumble of distress, causing Andy to chuckle.

“I’m hungry too,” he admitted.

“Mm…” she hummed. “What do you want to do for dinner? I thawed out some chicken and we have spaghetti squash. We could do something with that and make a small salad to go with it. Or, we could just make some tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese sounds good to me, I don’t feel like really cooking.”

“Me either. Comfort food it is.“

They got dressed in comfortable lounging clothes, Sharon pinned her hair back from her face, and they went out to make dinner. Rusty arrived home in time to eat with them and then they all settled in the living room, Rusty doing schoolwork, while Andy and Sharon worked on their case. Andy was getting himself a drink when his phone rang. Sharon heard the end of the conversation when he came out of the kitchen.

“I don’t envy you. Yeah, well, thanks Mike, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Andy clicked off his phone and approached the couch where Sharon was seated making notes on a legal pad. He knelt on the carpet behind her. “That’s Tao. He’s sitting with the FBI taskforce combing through the database looking for similar material and they’re only halfway done.” Sharon inhaled deeply and looked to the heavens. She could only imagine what Tao was going through having to watch hour upon hour of those horrific videos and pictures. After less than a minute, she’d been very close to vomiting.

“So far no furniture or clothing that match anything belonging to Jacobs or ‘wigged out’.”

“Could someone have killed the victim for collecting child porn?” Rusty asked.

“Most likely Gavin found it on one of the computers he stole and was extorting the owner for large sums of money.” Sharon continued to write her notes while she spoke. It helped her to get her thoughts out before they slipped away.

“Just possessing that kind of trash you could end your life in prison,” Andy said.

“Okay, well don’t get me wrong, those pictures and those videos, they were beyond disgusting, obviously, but if the suspect didn’t make them---”

“No, no, no,” Andy cut him off. “It doesn’t work that way. Trading in kiddie porn creates a market to abuse more children.”

“And the problems don’t end with molestation,” Sharon added. “Sexually assaulted children usually take years to process the experience, and then the trauma can be triggered again by situations that emotionally they feel is similar.

“Emotionally similar?” Rusty’s heart skipped a beat, suddenly he got it.

“Yes.” Sharon’s eyes narrowed and lasered in on Andy rubbing his hand. He stopped as soon as he saw she was watching. She knew it was tingling---and that he was trying to hide that from her.

“You should come to yoga with me this weekend,” she said, setting her legal pad down beside her on the couch.

He rolled his eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. The doctor said it’s good to stretch it out.”

“He also said massage might help.”

“Yes, he did.” She fought a smile at his hopeful tone.

“Well, if I’m weighing in between yoga or a Sharon Raydor special neck massage, guess which one I’m going to choose?”

“You’re nothing if not predictable.” She rose, stretched her muscles out, then reached for his hand. “Come on, I’ll give you the massage. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day. Good-night, Rusty.”

“’Yeah, night kid.”

“Um…Yeah... Good-night.”

*************

Andy rolled over in bed and looked at the clock. 3:00 am. Sharon had been gone for over a half hour. Shoving the blankets off, he sat on the side of the bed rubbing his hand through his hair. It had been a rough night. He’d felt her tossing and turning from the moment they shut the lights off, and this time not because of a hot flash. He knew when she had those. She ’d roll away from him, stick a bare leg out, or kick off the covers, only to shiver and pull them back up after only a minute or so. “That’s why they call them flashes,“ she said when he questioned how quickly she went from hot to cold. This was different. And he knew why. Because he wasn’t finding it any easier to sleep than she was.

He found her in the living room, sitting in the dark staring into space, a cup of tea and a discarded book beside her on the end table.

“Sharon?”

She looked up at him with a little smile, holding out her hand. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No.” He bent to kiss her forehead, before kneeling beside her chair. “I rolled over and you weren’t there. But I couldn’t sleep either.”

“I know.” She’d heard him sigh a couple times and reposition himself, which wasn’t like him. Andy wasn’t a restless sleeper. “It’s just. Every time I close my eyes I keep picturing those little girls.”

“Me too. I see Nic at that age, snuggling in bed with her stuffed animals, not with…well.”

Sharon nodded, tears welling in her eyes. She’d thought of Emily too, her little ballerina, and the shattering of innocence. Thankfully, their daughters had never experienced that kind of abuse. But one of her son’s had.

“I can’t stop thinking about Rusty. I’ve tried really hard not to dwell on the life that he lived in those crack houses with his mother and then out on the streets. But, when I think about what those men did to him, the kinds of things that he was subjected to when he was just a little boy…it just….Oh, God… Andy, it breaks my heart.” She lost the tenuous hold she had on her tears and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with soft sobs.

Andy rose, gently pulling her over to the couch where he could hold her in his arms. Nothing he could do or say could change, or make her feel better about what happened to her boy, so he didn’t try. He just held her until she stopped crying.

“I’m sorry,” she said blotting at her eyes with a little sniffle when he handed her a tissue. It wasn’t the first time she’d cried over Rusty, but it was the first time she‘d allowed herself to cry with someone else. For years she’d put on a brave face, hiding her pain over the nightmare of his childhood and forcing back the fury she so often felt toward the mother who had neglected, abused and finally abandoned him. But sometimes it had proven to be too much, and alone in her bed at night, she’d wept for him.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to be sorry about. Bottling everything up isn’t healthy.”

“I guess it just caught up with me. Some cases do that.”

“They do. This is the kind of shit that used to send me into a bottle.”

She looked up, a flash of worry crossing her face. “Do you need to go to a meeting?”

Her concern left him feeling warm all over. “No, I’m okay,” he said while brushing a tendril of hair back off her face. “Sometimes all it takes is having someone to talk it out with.”

“You know I’m always here for you, Andy.“ She toyed with the hem of his t-shirt, the way she did when she was nervous or uncomfortable. “But if you need more than I can give you. If you need a meeting. I want you to know that I understand.”

“I know you do. And I appreciate that more than you can ever know.”

Not many people really understood the importance of AA in his life. For a long time, there had been his job and AA, and not much else. The program had changed that for him. It had given him his life back. It had saved his job, several friendships, and most importantly his relationship with his daughter. And, without AA, there was no way he would be sitting here today in the most profound, amazing relationship he’d ever had in his life. Because without AA, he wouldn’t have Sharon. AA had given him back his dignity. It had allowed him to examine, understand, and accept his past. It had given him the courage to apologize to all those he had hurt with his bad behavior and was there to support him when not all his amends had been met with grace, but instead, with bitterness and skepticism. Best of all, it had enabled him to become a better man and to have hope for a better future. It had been his lifeline. And now, 20 years into his sobriety, it was allowing him the opportunity to give back and help others going through what he’d gone through. Not everyone understood that. Certainly not many of the women he’d dated over the years, and definitely not his ex, but Sharon did. She understood him and saw things in him that nobody ever had.

“You think you can get some sleep now?” He asked, when he saw her yawn, her head falling sleepily against his shoulder.

“I do.” She placed a sweet kiss on his rough jaw before rising and following him into their bedroom, feeling much lighter than when she’d left. After so many years on her own, she’d grown used to keeping her emotions to herself. And for the most part, she was okay with that. She was strong and confident in her abilities to handle whatever was thrown at her. But, she’d almost forgotten how nice it was, how comforting, to have someone to share her feelings with. Someone who was there in the middle of the night when things always seemed so much worse than in the light of day. Someone who could understand, and, even when there was nothing he could say or do to help, simply hold her and make her feel less alone.

It felt good.

*****

“I didn’t molest anybody. I’m the victim here. I was molested as a kid. I didn’t know how to talk to anybody about it. I…I tried to keep it a secret. How do you tell someone you’ve been sexually abused?”

They had their suspect. Dean Lewis, a young adult author of all things. Now he was trying to explain himself, explain why he had a laptop filled with child pornography, and Rusty was finding that his excuses were hitting a little too close to home. His head down, sick to his stomach, he listened to the rest of the plea bargain, listened to Dean’s lawyer accept Andrea’s terms with the promise to expose every child pornographer he’d come into contact with.

“I don’t want to hear any more of this.” If Julio had his way Dean would be on his way to the electric chair right now, and he’d be happy to flip the switch.

“Well, nobody wants you in there with the guy anyway,” Provenza said.

“Yeah, you can help Provenza and me file the report. It’ll take hours,” Andy said, following Provenza and Julio out of the interview room.

Sharon turned to Rusty who was still looking a little green around the gills. “And that means you’re free to go,” she said. “Andrea won’t need you anymore tonight.”

“Well, I might as well wait for you. I don’t really have anywhere else to be.”

“I wonder if that’s true.”

Rusty watched her leave the room. Situations that felt emotionally similar. That’s what she’d said to him last night. Was that why he was reacting so strongly to Gus wanting to move in with him and to this case? Because he’d been molested too?

Before Sharon, before Dr. Joe, he never would have used that term for what he’d gone through. Back when he’d first moved in with her, Sharon had referred to him as a victim, had implied that he’d been raped, and he‘d lashed out at her. He wasn‘t a victim. He‘d been in charge of his life. After all, he was the one who’d gone out on the street soliciting men. He’d asked for it, right? At the time, he’d thought so. But now, after years of therapy, he understood more. Sharon was right. He had been a victim. A survivor. After years of having to take care of himself and his mother, he might have felt like an adult, but at only 13 when he’d been abandoned, forced to live on his own and to try to find a way to survive, he really was just a child. Sure, he’d had other choices. He could have gone into foster care. But, back then, he’d been so sure that his biological mother would return for him, the last thing he wanted to do was disappear into the foster care system.

Yet, that interview with Dean had him thinking hard about what might have happened to him if Sharon hadn’t taken him in. What if she hadn’t offered him unconditional love, along with food, shelter and an education? What if she hadn’t pushed through his resistance and gotten him the counseling that he now knew he’d needed with Dr. Joe? Where would he be today? Dead. Maybe. But what scared him more than that, scared him down to the very marrow of his bones, was Dean Lewis. Could he have become like Dean?

He knew the statistics. A few years ago when he was looking for a stamp, Sharon had told him to look in her desk drawer. In the drawer, he’d seen a book she was reading, “When Your Child Has Been Molested: A Parents Guide to Healing and Recovery.“ His heart hammering, he’d opened it. She had highlighted several passages. He read one on suicide rates and another that had stated that boys who were sexually abused, particularly if they came from a home with severe maternal neglect and violence, often turned out to be abusers themselves. He’d slammed the book shut, closed the drawer, and tried to forget what he’d read. Now he couldn’t help but wonder… Could he have turned out like Dean Lewis if Sharon hadn’t come along? He owed almost everything he was today to Sharon, his mother, and he wasn’t quite ready to let that go yet. Despite his façade of bravado, inside he was still a mass of insecurities. Somehow, he knew he had to fix that, to finish his healing process before he could completely give himself to someone else. And to do that he needed to stay right where he was. He probably should have articulated that better to Gus, but until now, he hadn’t completely realized what had been holding him back.

When Gus had offered to pay for everything if they moved in together, it had spent him spiraling into a tailspin and he hadn‘t been able to think straight. He’d worked so hard to change his views on sexuality, to divorce the things he’d done as a boy that felt so dirty and shameful, from the relationship he was in today as a young man. He hadn’t even realized how warped his views about sex were until Sharon had tried to help him see the difference.

One night, before Andy had moved in, after telling Sharon that he’d be out late with TJ, he’d come home to find the door to her bedroom ajar. He‘d heard his mother‘s soft moans and the deeper rough groans coming from Andy, along with the tell-tale thumping of the bed. The kind of obscene sounds and behavior that he’d experienced with his biological mother but had never associated with Sharon. He’d thought she was above all that. Later, when he‘d expressed that sentiment to her, Sharon had been appalled by his views. She’d tried to explain to him that sex was not supposed to be a transactional act or one that left a person feeling degraded, that at it’s best it was a physical joining meant to express love and give pleasure. At the time he’d been embarrassed by the conversation. No kid liked to talk about sex with their mother, especially after knowing she’d just been having sex. But it was a conversation that had stuck with him because it had helped him to look at sex in a totally different way.

Then he’d met Gus and they’d become intimate, and that sure hadn‘t been easy. There were a lot of emotions he’d had to work through and he knew there were times he tried Gus‘s patience. But it was difficult to change gears, to view an act that he’d dreaded and detested to one that was supposed to express love. But he was working through it and slowly things were getting better. Then, out of the blue Gus had thrown this curveball at him, asking him to move in with him, then offering to pay for everything when he’d said he couldn’t afford it. Suddenly, in an instant, his past had flooded back, washing over him, drowning him in waves of humiliation and self-disgust. He couldn’t allow Gus to be one of those men, paying for his services. He just couldn’t.

And now he’d done as his mom had requested. He’d identified his instinct, figured out where it came from, all that was left was to explain it all to Gus and hope for the best.

TBC

#sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #Major Crimes #saying good-bye to yesterday #rusty beck #because sharon and andy should have had personal conversations

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travelysh · 5 years

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Being an Intern... 🤓

...can be so individual. With me being a journalism student, my supervisor thought I wanted to do a lot of writing during my internship with NCEM because that’s what she associated journalism with. I was given my personal office in the TV department’s building and I started off by writing stories. Until I joined PR meetings and started to get involved with other things.

But wait! First of all, what is NCEM all about?

Well... Okay!

The Northern Canada Evangelical Mission strives to equip their members with the necessary hardware and software (skills and much more) that they need. They want to empower them in every possible way and to encourage them throughout their work. For their wish is to establish strong multiplying churches across Canada as part of God’s amazing church. They work especially with and for First Nations people (= people of Native Canadian origin) and there are a lot of different areas that they are involved in. NCEM isn’t about making the big money and everyone who is engaged with them is supported by voluntary donors.

Check out their website📌 for more information.

1) What I have done:

NCEM’s TV team produces programs called Tribal Trails in which First Nations tell stories from their lives to encourage and inspire others. They release their newsletter News & Views several times a year. I started off with writing a story for the upcoming newsletter about a couple who had been interviewed for Tribal Trails. Their story really moved me. They had shared about the hard times they went through when their son was deceased with spinal meningitis at the age of 4 and how they were encouraged to trust in God when he was healed. Not even 30 years later they lost their son in a car accident. Reading through the transcription of their interview moved me to tears.

If you want to read about how they dealt with their struggles, read the whole story here: In the Midst of the Storm 📌

After finishing this task on the third day of my internship, I continued with a story for NCEM’s website about a young skateboarder from Arizona in the USA. I even emailed the guy to ask him if he could proof-read my story before it went online and it was fun to get recent updates from his life. He’d gotten married just a few months ago and had a really bad car accident. His story will be online soon and I’ll share the link if you’d like to read it.

Then there were PR meetings at our headquarters and I asked if I could join because PR was a big part of what I’d been looking forward to get involved with for my internship. There I got a better understanding of where NCEM’s at nowadays. I also met Caylea, our social media coordinator, for the first time. When I suggested that I could help by producing videos for promotion, some of us got really excited and I think that’s what kind of triggered what I’ve been doing since then and what I will be doing within the upcoming months.

2) What I am doing:

Since those meetings I’ve been in touch with Caylea and Jason (our PR manager) a lot more. Most people working with the organization are a lot older to me and NCEM is looking for more people to work with them, especially younger ones. So I started to work on my first video project. It’s a video about myself introducing the opportunity to do an internship with NCEM. At first it was an exciting idea to record a short clip that we could upload online, but it turned into a bigger project. The video is going online by the end of this week. I made a few final edits in the office today and there’s an English as well as a German version coming up. Wait for it! 🙂

The video is online on YouTube now! Watch it here📌 (English and German available)

I am also trying to help with creating social media content and with getting their online accounts a little more known. I am featured on their Facebook📌 and Instagram📌 profiles every once in a while. If you’d like to see those specific posts or to see more about what’s going on within NCEM, you should totally check out their accounts.

At the headquarters we mostly start the day together in a “chapel meeting”. Usually someone shares a few inspirational thoughts or words, we sing together and we pray for current things. It’s encouraging to pray for one another, to hear what the person who prepared for chapel has to share, and to spend time in community before we head to our offices. I was allowed to share about my life and thoughts that felt worth sharing twice since I started my internship. It’s a learning process for me, too, and it can be so much fun!

3) What I will be doing:

Jason, Caylea and I, with the help and inspiration of others, have come up with ideas for further video projects. NCEM doesn’t have a video about who they are and what they do yet and we want to change that. We’re planning to record several interviews and scenes from the different ministry fields like summer camps, aviation, TV production, the bookstore and the printshop...

We’d also like to record footage that can be uploaded on Youtube📌 on a more regular basis like interviews with NCEM workers, their kids, kids from camps etc.

It’d be nice to have more videos for example for Tribal Trails to explain what they are all about. But these jobs require a lot of time and we gotta start taking up one task at a time. If we can make a general NCEM promotion, maybe even in English and in German, that’d just be awesome!

This means that for recording and working together Caylea and I will try to visit each other every once in a while and starting in July, we’ll visit camps for about 2 weeks to get things done. It’ll be a great experience for me to get to know First Nations kids and to learn more about their cultures. Maybe I’ll be able to teach you a few words in Cree or Dene afterwards! 😉 I already picked up the most important word in Cree: tanse. It means something like “what’s up” and they apparently use it all the time.

Caylea and I will also visit several other camps for a day or two each to set up a booth and to tell the people about NCEM and what we do. Also, I’m looking forward to our general staff conference in the end of August with about 200 - 250 members attending.

THANK YOU! - For showing so much interest in what I’m doing in this wide country so far from home. Send me a message if you’d like to know more, to just stay in touch, to share about your personal experiences and journeys in life or to support me in any way: spiritually, mentally, financially, ...

VERY MUCH LOVE! ♥️

#Canada #internet #internship #social media #youtube #work #student #travel #life #stories

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sarahreesbrennan · 6 years

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Hey I'm just curious since you've now coauthored both Nothing But Shadows and Cast Long Shadows. Matthew Fairchild is one of my fav book characters ever and I was wondering what your favorite thing about him or writing him is? ❤ Is it difficult to write a character that you didn't create? Sorry to bother you, coauthoring fascinates me (and Matthew makes me smile)

Aw, what a nice question, and you’re not bothering me at all! It’s really fun to have the Ghosts of the Shadow Market stories coming out, and to do this adventure with my friends and Cassie’s great readers! I was super nervous about Son of the Dawn, and the reception has been really lovely.

I was actually with Cassie on tour when she came up with some of the big moves for The Last Hours, so I’ve always been super into it. Me, Cassie and Maureen Johnson were touring together to promote the upcoming The Bane Chronicles which we all co-wrote, as well as Cassie’s Clockwork Princess. That night Cassie and I were sharing a room, and since it was just after the release of Clockwork Princess, we got to talking about the future for the Infernal Devices characters and Cassie’s favorite Dickens book being Great Expectations (mine is Tale of Two Cities, which we’ve squabbled over, so I was all, you have to do books referencing Great Expectations because you love it so much you want to marry it), and we got out the family tree and started telling it to each other as a bedtime story. (WRITERS. We are like this.) And we co-wrote The Midnight Heir, the first time we see some TLH characters, on that same tour. It’s much nicer to co-write when physically together and able to chat it out, but sometimes that isn’t possible as Cassie and I live in different countries–America and Ireland–and we both travel loads. For instance, lots of my bits of Cast Long Shadows I wrote while in the Seychelles, weeping gently on the beach as I discussed Matthew’s life over the phone.

So the TLH characters and I have been friends a long time, and they’re maybe my favourite set of Cassie’s. It definitely is tricky to write a character you didn’t create–but uh, I’ve written fanfic in the past, so I’ve done it before! And this is different and better: Cassie is there every step of the way, so you know you can’t go too far wrong, and you know where everything is going, and it is really an honour to get to contribute a little to her world, and to know if I feel at sea I can push the computer toward her with an ingratiating smile and promise to do more on my next turn, and she will stop me or fix it if I have committed a great faux pas. Plus, through writing characters sometimes you come to love them more–I truly have with several of them. Co-writing with someone I didn’t know really well, and really trust, would be much more difficult. Mostly what I worry about is letting Cassie or the readers down. But because I came in on the ground floor with the TLH characters, they come easier to me than, say, the TDA characters. Not to tell you guys my Awful Weaknesses, but my most difficult Shadowhunters work was Bitter of Tongue, even though I do truly love the TDA characters, and Mark, and Helen and Aline’s wedding. But just… faeries. Why are they the way they are? How do Cassie and Holly Black, faerie queen extraordinaire, do it? I don’t know. I don’t get it. I sat across from Cassie while we wrote it, and sadly threw flowers at myself and at her, to feel more faerie. (I don’t know why any of my friends ever speak to me, all I do is pick them up and carry them, or belabour them with blossoms, or make them try k-beauty products.)

Anyway, I think you can now see that I do go on, as I have now been rattling on without answering your question for some time. (Both Cassie and I tend to write super long, which is a failing our friends must deal with. ‘For God’s sake ladies would you quit it’ said Maureen and our co-author Robin Wasserman for Tales from Shadowhunter Academy, when we handed in Born to Endless Night, which was twice as long as planned.) But I hope it’s clear that co-writing these characters is fun as well as challenging, and Matthew is especially great and easy to co-write, and has always been a special favourite of mine. He makes me smile, too, and that was lovely to do in Nothing But Shadows: James discovering Matthew, at the same time the readers were discovering him. ‘The facts are… I love him,’ I have said urgently, many times. (I am a horrible favourites picker, and will sit campaigning for story time for my chosen darlings and death for my least favourites through every critique session with every one of my writer friends. Soon I may just start waving cards with ‘RAPHAEL!’ or ‘NINA!’ or ‘CARDAN!’ or ‘THE CARSTAIRS SIBLINGS!’ or ‘THE MOON!’ written in sparkly letters. They all have to deal.) When Cassie, Robin, Maureen and our new fabulous addition Kelly Link discussed writing Ghosts of the Shadow Market in a pool in Italy, we knew that chronologically we’d start with the Last Hours characters–Jem seeing the new generation, his friends’ children, as his friends move forward in time and he… doesn’t.

I have long complained about getting the first stories in these anthologies–introductions are difficult! It is a lot of pressure. ‘Hello, welcome to Magnus’s warlock gang.’ ‘Here is George Lovelace, we have big plans for him, gosh I hope Cassie saves me from screwing this up.’ Cassie told us of Matthew’s great sin. ‘I GET THE MATTHEW STORY!’ I shrieked. I have a piercing scream. ‘I’m doing it with you, right? Right?! ME!’ My friends swam uneasily around in the pool. ‘Yes Sarah. You can have the Matthew story. Stop that noise. Stop it.’ So I bagged the first story, this time around. (And then it was decided that Son of the Dawn would come out first, so I got a double first. Like I said, very nervous! But I did it for Matthew.)

I think writers are always interested in a dichotomy, so it’s fascinating to think of warriors growing up against the background of the aesthetic movement: CLS is set in 1901, a really exciting time tipping wildly from history into modernity, careening all unawares into the Great Wars. (In fact, a significant historical event occurs in CLS: you’ll know it when you see it.) Matthew is an artistically minded warrior raised by a scientist and a politician, and he passionately loves modern art and modern ideas of beauty and an ideal of living beautifully, in a way that doesn’t fit in with his society’s values or way of life. Matthew has everything going for him–he’s a talented warrior, he’s extremely adept socially–but the thing setting him apart from the rest is what he loves: his father, disabled and not valued for his scientific brilliance, his parabatai, under a demonic shadow, and his other particular friends, a boy who represents the next generation of science with new ideas about disease and technology, and a sickly small kid who people murmur won’t make it as a fighter. Matthew could’ve loved anybody, but he chose them, and in CLS it was great to write from his POV, and see those he loves through his loving eyes. He especially loves Oscar Wilde, who is a great Irish literary figure and who I grew up loving–and who got by himself on being witty and charming and brilliant, until tragedy struck. (I have read the play The Importance of Being Earnest… more than a hundred times, and Cassie and I saw a performance together in London, with David Suchet playing Lady Bracknell, which I feel Matthew would have enjoyed.) Show me what someone loves, and I’ll show you who they are: Matthew’s sensitivity, and appreciation for what others don’t appreciate, is what I like best about him. (Plus: funny and blond.) Being suited for violence, and choosing love, being drawn to love, is really endearing–it also means choosing to be easily hurt. How much Matthew loves makes him lovable, and seeing readers like him from the short stories is amazing–and I know they will like him even more in the books.

Our story comes full circle here: Cassie and I were roomies at the North Texas Teen Book Festival when we released the Cast Long Shadows snippet, and we planned to put it up when we were together for extra sleepover fun. ‘Let’s do it now!’ I urged Cassie wickedly on. ‘Plus try these gold and snail eyepatches, you will like them, go on, try a snail.’ And we will be together at a writing retreat–appropriately, in England, when Cast Long Shadows comes out! We will be eating toastie cheese sandwiches and hoping that you like it.

#gotsm #cast long shadows #matthew fairchild #writing

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elinor-sutton · 6 years

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Fuck MAGA: Then & Now

I started this blog right after the 2016 election.

I was angry, and it was an outlet that I needed, but after a few posts, I did not consider my rage a priority worth my time.

I was told that it might be unhealthy to indulge an anger so deep that it began to form, for me, an existential foundation of being—almost always in hair-trigger battle mode, rhetoric and righteous anger at the ever-fucking READY.

BUT I have a life that needs attention and only occasionally merits ferocity, so I gave up blogging.

And now? All this time later, I am still in a near-constant state of slow burn, and it’s been way too long without an eruption.

In the year-and-a-half since I let the blog slide, the Perpetrator-in-Chief has lived down to the worst of my expectations, and he shows no signs of improvement. It’s a narcissist thing. He CANNOT improve because he cannot recognize ANY of his infinite faults. Here’s one: GROWN-UPS don’t play Keep Away or Made You Look or the fucking Dozens with psychotic nuclear-arsenal-wielding tyrants. [It should go without saying that, if at all possible, nuclear arsenals should not be handed to psychotic tyrants in the first place, but MAGA, or whatever, right? If you live, maybe you learn. FINGERS CROSSED!]

But really, are we STILL living in a world where the safety of [at least] half the planet comes down to a man-child measuring contest?

Dear President Prick-for-Brains,

If you have to start a motherfucking WAR over it, it’s NEVER going to measure UP!

Sincerely,

Elinor S. and—oh yes, the ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD SO JUST STFU ALREADY!

Yep—still SUPER-PISSED!

If you’re looking at the world—and the supposed leader of those parts of it which are purportedly “free”—and you’re not losing your damn mind, you must have some sort of pre-established lunacy. [I’m not speaking of mental health problems. Mental health and mental healthcare are legitimate issues ignored by the thoughts-and-prayers crowd unless they need a scapegoat/catchphrase for the walking, shooting consequences of MAGA-indoctrination.] I’m thinking of the WHITE-NATIONALIST-NAZI-RACIST-MISOGYNISTIC-PATRIOTISM-BEFORE-PEOPLE-BUT-REALLY-ME-FIRST-AND-FUCK-EVERYONE-ELSE psychosis that passes for conservative politics since 45 first got his ridiculous feelings hurt by a black man and a “nasty woman” who were—and ARE—undeniably his betters. Or maybe since Mitch McConnell crawled out of his deep, dark shell and STOLE A SUPREME COURT SEAT while we sat on our hands and muttered, “Can he do that?”

Evidently, he can! AND with ZERO consequences—not for him or any other limp-dick Sentry of the Status Quo tip-toeing his way across the Glass Ceiling, stroking his Keys to the Kingdom, or hiding under his Protector of the Patriarchy parasol because HE KNOWS—they ALL know—that “Zero Consequences” comes with a big, fat, fucking YET, and she is a BOSS BITCH—woke and coming ready with a to-do list several centuries in the making. Her list says, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” It says Black Lives Matter, Me Too, My Body/My Choice, LOVEisLOVE, NoH8, and NO MORE. She’s got Science-based, Evidence-based, Fact-based TRUTH with ZERO Alternatives because TIME is fucking UP!

And that means White Male Privilege [WMP—pronounced “wimp,” right?] is coming to an end. I can’t pinpoint the starting line, but scared-shitless white men with money and/or guns have been running THE REST OF US down since well before this “great” nation was founded, and there are far too many of “the rest of us” who buy into their bullshit—53% of white women [pronounced “silly twits”]?! If you don’t fall into any category that benefits from WMP, and you voted/plan to vote for more of this nonsense, your patriotic duty, as of this moment, is to wake up every morning and punch yourself in the fucking face until something like SENSE prevails. Side effects MAY include REASON and a newfound appreciation for ACTUAL FACTS as opposed to the alternative variety, but if that fails, it is my heartfelt hope that when you make your way to the voting booth—to do what is, of course, your civic duty—you may just do us all a favor, and GET LOST!

[On a friendlier note, if you benefit from WMP and DID NOT vote in favor of our present national tragedy, congratulations on your conscience! Please take your place in the crowd, and resist the urge to act like you know everything. Instead, memorize this mantra and repeat to yourself as often as necessary to convert words to action: I’VE HAD MY TURN TO TALK. NOW IS MY TIME TO LISTEN.]

I am still angry, and I will remain so as long as “Making America Great” looks like:

1. Children murdered at school with unregulated guns or ripped away from immigrant parents who thought they could find safety in this “great” country,

2. Law enforcement abusing and KILLING men and women of color without consequence,

3. Tax cuts designed to further line the pockets of the few at the expense of the many and promote the “trickle-down” bullshit we’ve been forced to swallow, off and on, since the fucking 80s—when it didn’t work the first time.

4. Ordinary Americans struggling, or going without, while working full time for LESS THAN A LIVING WAGE,

5. Ignoring veterans who are homeless, wait months for promised healthcare, and/or commit suicide at more than twice the rate of civilians,

6. Women facing unconstitutional restrictions on access to reproductive healthcare and a choice that is STILL A LEGAL RIGHT,

7. LGBTQ+ people living with discrimination from bathrooms to bakeries and everywhere in-between—including public schools and the workplace,

8. People with disabilities at risk of losing the protection of the ADA, and disabled children at risk of losing their right to a “free and appropriate public education” under IDEA,

9. Underserved children, or those who suffer illegal discrimination in schools, losing protection from the Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights,

10. Environmental protections rolled back to protect corporate profits,

11. The sex offender/demagogue/imbecilic slab of semi-sentient slime—AND the soulless mob of Republican/MAGA-minions fighting to stroke his [gross] ego—that we have given ourselves in place of legitimate leadership,

12. And the untold number of HUMAN BEINGS suffering from the tragic FOLLY of a deluded minority of voters.

For as long as this country is attacked by toxic overgrown toddlers who play at governing, and in their incompetence, damage its environment, menace its people, abuse the fundamentals of democracy and the republic, and terrorize those who protest, I will NURSE this rage and STOKE its fire.

This is MY COUNTRY. I love it, and I recognize that TRUE LOVE does not ignore fault. This country has NEVER achieved “greatness” for all of its people. It is fortunate for “the rest of us” that patriotism does not demand blind loyalty. It does not hinge love of country on absolutes, and it does not forever marry us to White Male Privilege and what has been done in its name. We pledge allegiance to an IDEAL, and then we work the phones, yell ourselves hoarse, march until our feet bleed, and fucking VOTE to mold OUR COUNTRY into what it should be.

We DO NOT forget the progress we have made. We remember every step forward even as we recognize that the ignorant, forgotten [whatever], and privileged—with their long-overdue last gasp—forced us to take two steps back. We didn’t NEED to go backward. Nobody needs this bullshit—EVER. But we can use this. We can take a look, MARK what we missed and LEARN where and HOW we can do better. We can do what needs to be done to make sure this doesn’t happen again.

Step One: EMBRACE the anger. We can be appalled at all the FUCKING BULLSHIT the MAGA-goons have wrought and amazed that WE STILL HAVE FUCKS TO GIVE. We can revel in the madness that living in this time brings us—because progressives know how to USE rage. We know how to mine it. We have a long history of crafting change from righteous anger, and [always] moving on—an inch or a mile at a time—pushing a reluctant nation to keep its promise of “LIBERTY and JUSTICE for ALL.”

Numbers, time, and momentum are on OUR SIDE. We need to get MAD, and we need to do it TOGETHER—FOR FUCK’S OBVIOUS SAKE—and then we need to run these backward motherfuckers down with an ever-loving TIDAL WAVE OF PROGRESS that will put two steps back so far beyond the last red mile marker that even Donald Trump and Mitch McConnell will regain consciousness in the gender-neutral bathroom of an inclusive, well-funded public school with no fear of shooters, fully aware that Black Lives Matter, wearing a pussyhat, shouting TIME’S UP, and feeling grateful for the motherfucking PRIVILEGE!

So yeah, I’ve been paying attention, and I’m still angry, and it’s long past time to start talking about it again.

Stay tuned.

#us politics #politics #immigrants #shooting #women’s rights #women’s health #public school #americans with disabilities act #black lives matter #noh8 #lgbtq #lgbtqa #living wage #special education #against trump #anti trump #children of immigrants

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prewars · 6 years

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heres that list of unsolicited fic recs that ive amassed over the past few years when i get certain itches to deep-dive ao3 and be disappointed, this isnt everything but these are ones over 5k, mostly over 10k, thanks for the unnecessary encouragement @sonnywortzik @becominganoven @donotloseme @dicktective

Crossed in the places that you never knew to get through by noelia_g (generation kill)

It's not the real beginning. Things have happened before that led to this, things thousands years in the making and things quite recent, like the wound still bleeding, dark blood seeping into the dirt. But it's a beginning nonetheless. Right here, right now, this happens.

Après moi le deluge by beyond_belief (gen kill)

He can pop Motrin for the pain but there's nothing to be done for his jagged nerves. Rudy suggests more yoga, his mom suggests meditation, Patrick suggests he get laid. The Corps suggests a promotion, and Nate finds himself a Captain. There's a small voice in the back of his head that says, This isn't what you want, and it's getting louder day by day.

Aftermath, USA by traveller (gen kill)

The morning of the assassination, Patti Jankowski got up, took a long shower and towel dried her hair before braiding it into two long ropes that hung over her shoulders. She put on jeans, a t-shirt that showed Mickey Mouse saluting the American Flag, a light tan windbreaker and her comfortable blue SAS sneakers. In her shoulder bag she put a Smith and Wesson .22 caliber revolver, and an umbrella. The forecast was for a 62% chance of rain.

Adrift by visiblemarket (constantine)

Time was, Chas would’ve offered John the bed to make sure he rested, then crammed himself atop the sagging, scratchy, ancient cushions instead. That time has clearly passed. John tries not to let it bother him, but he’s had a hard enough time sleeping lately, and as soft and warm as the blanket Chas tossed him the night before was, it hadn’t much helped. And so he awakens to birds chirping, sun streaming through big airy windows, and a colossal headache.

to know me as hardly golden is to know me all wrong by norgbelulah (justified)

The God’s honest truth of it was that he didn’t want to be whatever Boyd was, he didn’t want to be Boyd Crowder’s friend, and he didn’t want to follow him down into the darkness that was always waiting for them both. And he knew if he stayed, he would be all of those things and learn not to mind them.

I Have Always Lived in the Moment by scioscribe (justified)

Tim says that technically he was only mostly dead, and mostly dead is still slightly alive. The witty repartee would be more convincing if Tim could get some color back into his face. Raylan remembers an overwhelming whiteness. Art wants to know: Like the tunnel with the light at the end of it? No, Raylan says, blander than that, and icier, too. Like an afterlife manufactured by IKEA.

To Call the Darkness Home by scioscribe (justified)

After a time, even the nightmares stopped, and he started bitching like an ordinary person about the low pay and the roaches, exactly as if Lexington hadn’t been his longed-for salvation. But there must have been some uneasiness in him that he just hadn’t paid any mind, because every time he had left, he had gone farther and farther away, until he had threatened to run right off the coast into the Atlantic.

Where's Waldo? by swamplamp (better call saul)

Jesse Pinkman manifests on his doorstep like a wet dream that nobody asked for. It's 4 AM. "You're a sight for sore eyes," Saul remarks flatly, squinting out towards that semi-familiar face. Seeing Pinkman lets old feelings roll back in and isn't that a shame? Saul makes to shut the door and go back to a kinder slumber. But he stops. Saul feels a twinge of sympathy worming its way into his chest before he can start pulling the door closed. They stand there for a moment, steeped in caution and confusion.

By daybreak we'll be gone by storm_petrel (the losers)

Clay has a handful of life philosophies that he’s gained though years of extremely hard-won experience. Sleep when you can. Keep track of where you stash your boots and dog tags, because they don’t come with you. Trust the people who earn your trust. When in doubt, and in the absence of a proper machine gun, go for a sidearm with more than ten rounds in the magazine and minimum .38 calibre for decent stopping power. If still in doubt, shift out and go for the jugular.

In All the Tongues of Men and Angels by coinin (the losers)

Carlos Alvarez, first son after three daughters, was not supposed to join the Army. Carlos Alvarez was supposed to go to college, major in something useful like business or civil engineering, graduate with honors, marry a nice Catholic girl, and provide his parents with grandchildren while establishing himself in a respectable field of employment. Unfortunately for his parents, Carlos Alvarez was of the opinion that the suburban American ideal could go fuck itself.

the prisoner's dilemma by arbitrarily (free fire)

“Jesus Christ. What the fuck happened to you two?”

“First date,” Justine says.

“Went dutch,” Chris says.

Places We Don't Belong by easternepiphany (community)

Yesterday they went hiking in the Sandia Mountains, made it to the top of the trail, and celebrated by making out against a tree, slick with sweat. They were caught by a family of four, two parents and a son and a daughter, all who looked on in horror. The mother asked, in a stern and angry voice, weren’t they a little old for such antics. “Probably,” he said with a shrug and she bit her lip to keep from laughing.

A Fool For Your Face by Ghostcat (you’re the worst)

The days after Becca and Vernon’s shitstorm of a party were golden, as if he and Gretchen were finally alone. As if her depression had moved house, left the country, waved goodbye. They laughed and fucked, got drunk or didn't. Did drugs or went dry. Or kissed. For hours. Leaning against the brick wall of some local dive turned glorious oasis because of her lips.

But the walls are giving way by FanchonMoreau (mozart in the jungle)

“You don’t have to feel obligated to stay with us,” Cynthia tells him. “But you’re my orchestra,” Rodrigo insists. She smiles. “We’re big kids. We can take care of ourselves. Take a gig somewhere else if you need to. Trust me, we’ve got this.” He does trust her, and he trusts his orchestra. And he’s not stupid enough to miss the implication that perhaps he’s not wanted here, at this particular moment.

the grave robbers by arbitrarily (american gods)

“Okay, fine. I liked vodka and I liked whiskey. I didn’t even like the top shelf shit — I liked the cheap stuff, the stuff that burned on its way down. I liked it when I felt like it could make me choke. I liked when my bedsheets were tucked in so tight I could barely crawl in under the covers and I slept like I was trapped. I liked the smell of bug spray. I liked the burn of that, too. I liked when I stayed in the tub too long and my skin went all wrinkly and gross, and okay, I get the fucking irony of that now — no need to remind me. I liked when glue dried on my fingers and I’d peel it off. I liked angel food cake. I liked when I’d lay in bed at night sometimes and be just about to fall asleep, but then, I’d jolt awake, like I was falling down a flight of stairs or something in my almost dreams. Or whatever. You know — everyone knows that feeling.”

Reconstruction Site by disco_vendetta (pacific rim)

One day he looks up from the scaffolding and realizes that he’s almost exactly at Jaeger height and has to wrap his hand tight against the metal to keep from stepping out into the air. Not because he wants to kill himself or anything, just because for a split second his mind felt that old equilibrium and he just knew he should be able to, should be able to walk straight across the valley in front of him and out into the sea and on forever until he finds whatever’s next.

Benediction by sistermercury (the exorcist)

“I had to see.” Tomas starts weakly, and something inside Marcus begs for both of them to stop; Begging Tomas because he doesn’t want to know, can’t hear about another goddamn vision, not tonight. Begging himself, because something’s gone wrong and his self-righteousness can wait. It won’t be the first time Marcus fails to follow his own good advice.

he's alive! i'm alive! we're all alive! (oh, this case just got busted wide open) by rustykitchenscissors (mcu)

The next day, he rides his new motorcycle downtown and walks around until he sees a store full of the kinds of phones the other Avengers use. They’re all so thin he thinks they’ll break the moment he picks them up. Like how Bucky said for a while after, “I bet you met your old self like this, you’d break all his bones just going for a handshake, huh?” Only when drunk, of course. That mix of bitter and wonderstruck, hair scrambled across his forehead. “I bet you’ll snap me in half without thinking one of these days.” And Steve would throw an arm across his shoulders and pull him in tight to make sure he knew, Look, fuck that. I swear to God you’re steel to your core.

a tree grows in brooklyn by newsbypostcard (mcu)

"It's done, Buck," he says painfully, lying himself back on the ground. "All that's left is to leave." They don't leave. He can't. His chest rises and falls, too hard and too obvious.

Responsible Science by lettered (mcu)

Three weeks after Bruce left New York, Black Widow found him in Honduras.

the blackberries in the thickets by newsbypostcard (mcu)

"You are James Buchanan -- like the President -- from Illinois, Nevada, California, and New Jersey. I am Grant Stevens -- wanted to be Ulysses Grant, but Nat said two dead presidents living at the same address might sound a little fishy -- from Florida, Connecticut, Washington, and New York."

Bucky frowns at him. "How come you get New York?"

"Just worked out that way."

Life of Crime by neveralarch (mcu)

It's really hard to run through Boston when you're carrying a quiver on your back, a bow in one hand, and a huge bag of money in the other. Still, Clint's doing fine—he's had a ton of practice, after all. He's never going to win any Olympic medals (for, okay, lots of reasons), but he's fast enough for a guy on foot. Doesn't matter, because this chick's gaining on him anyway. Fucking flying. It's gotta be cheating.

#there's like probably half a million words here so have fun

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