#and basically take three hours to have a breakdown before i can eat except for very specific items | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcdonaldsfics · 10 months

Text

LATE NIGHT SNACK.

→ Nutritional facts﹕Sasha x Female Reader.

→ Ingredients﹕| Angst + Fluff. | After Sasha gets dumped whilst pregnant with Niccolo's baby it's up to Y/n to take care of her beloved best friend and roommate.

→ Allergen info﹕Mentions of shitty Niccolo, mentions of EMA only once, Sasha has a terrible family, slut-shaming, pregnant roommate Sasha, caring Y/n, thoughtful and smart Sasha, she's her usual hungry-self.

→ Pick-up for﹕@punkologist 's sapphic event. + Word count is around 1k.

→ Side note﹕This is my first fanfic please be nice, and English isn't my first language sorry for mistakes. Please enjoy!

It's been four months since your roommate has announced her pregnancy, you were bursting with excitement for her thrilled to see a new baby around the place.

You didn't mind much at all wholeheartedly, the two of you have a guest bedroom which was rarely ever used so Sasha politely discussed with you that she wanted to turn it into her baby's room to which you happily complied.

The first month of your roommate's pregnancy things were running smooth as marble floors, until one evening you had just came from work loudly strutting your heels your way into a colorful baby's clothing store faintly smiling as you snatched as much gender neutral looking shirts and pants that you could find from off the shelves.

Sasha had explained "I want to collect as much clothes as I can until I actually know what gender they are!" Although many people clamoured at her calling her obtuse for this choice, you'd harshly disagree with a shrug saying it's an intelligent decision mindlessly thinking your hand reached out for a pastel yellow dress that caught your eye.

Even though it was clearly something for a little girl, one dress couldn't hurt Sasha. That name rang in your ears, Sasha, almost as if thinking about her happened to summon her on your phone because out of nowhere your phone started to obnoxiously sing the annoying xylophone ringtone.

Quickly stabbing each airpod into your ear before you answered you finally swiped right to accept her call, strangely enough you could hear her having a near mental breakdown on the other end of the phone it wasn't impossible for you to imagine streams of tears crashing down her face, her face red from hours of crying, next to a box of half empty tissues.

You took a deep cold breath setting your shopping bags down heading to a small corner in the back of the girls section calmly asking Sasha "What's wrong?" Whilst she hiccupped a couple of times exhaling, and inhaling in an attempt to collect herself before speaking.

"Niccolo, he..." Sasha started with a painful shaky voice, yet continued on "He dumped me," somehow you were even able to sense the frown on her face, "Why?" You questioned.

"I dunno we were fine a couple of minutes ago until we got into an argument and he admitted to cheating on me, whilst being pregnant with his baby." Sasha crunched on a bag of crisps, basically eating her sorrows away, or was that just her usual being overly hungry? Either way a frown grew upon her face upset with her entire situation.

Sasha began to sob again half-whispering what she was about to say "He told me I wasn't attractive enough with my nose slightly swollen, and now that I'm not skinny anymore."

From that day on you swore to protect her plus provide the care and support she didn't have, given that you were all she had left in her life besides the rest of your friends such as Mikasa, Eren, and Armin, but her family refused to have anything to do with Sasha after she announced being pregnant slut shaming her in front of her siblings wailing that she brought dishonour upon the family for having a baby without marriage.

Except by providing you weren't expecting to be shaken up out of your sleep at three am, sweating like a pig in the hot dry summer air. "Y/n, Y/n, wake up please." Sasha pleaded, her arms rolling your body back and forth. "McDonald's is open, wanna go get some chicken nuggets?" She asked patting down her grumpy tummy.

"Sash, it's 3 in the morning." You complain letting her know it's way too late to go outside in the unforgiving dark.

"And...?" Your roommate sassily responded popping her way to the door putting on her slippers whilst waiting for you to follow her there.

In which you only sighed "Let's go." Before grabbing your keys hopping in your car driving Sasha to her favourite restaurant happily nodding when she decided to talk your ear off the entire ride. You enjoyed listening to Sasha speak even if you swore your ear would be melted off by the time she was done.

Once you both was finally there you assisted her out of the car and held her hand walking into McDonald's. Allowing her to order everything off the menu knowing she has a baby who's probably driving her to be hungry too, Sasha got a few meals plus some desserts waiting to pick up whilst you sat somewhere to save her a table.

After what seemed like years Sasha skipped to where you were with a large tray of food packed in every inch of it; fries attempted to escape as well. Of course when she sat down she ate like she's been starving for four years starting with the double double McExtreme bbq bourbon egg taking a bite the size of a dinosaur's mouth.

Wiping the sides of her mouth from the bbq sauce Sasha noticed you weren't eating with her, she couldn't just eat in front of you so she decided to flip the tray horizontally moving a cup of fries, a burger, and strawberry tart on your side grabbing a fork stabbing the spongy cake with it "Here Y/n, eat it's really delicious!" Sasha proposed joyfully holding one hand under the fork so no crumbs would drop onto the freshly clean table.

You sighed, resting one hand on your cheek at the sweet offer pleased Sasha even thought about you and your hunger while carrying a child causing you to blurt out your feelings for her "Would this be a bad time to say I love you?"

———————————————————

84 notes · View notes

butterbail0 · 2 years

Text

Wolverine 35mm Film To Digital Converter

For one same token, an impression of 110 negative is not like this well like 135 negative. Has bought a Conversor mainly partorisca convert all my negatives and slides of 1970 to 2005 ( impressions). I have found that a quality of a resultant impression directly depends in an age of a film. It loves to Go back but he any and The step of direction of turn. So only received and there is still to dip this scanner by means of a cycle of full testing, this in spite of afterwards unpack it, has has had to that the give the career of fast test. Had sent a page of real mandate that objective a picture and specs of a scanner, but has not had any response. In his response has asked a number of mandate and a type to scan. Sony uses the FE label to designate their full frame lens. Close inspection will reveal slight wear. Perfect glass, most accessories are included, the box may not be present. Some adapters/of negative slide can be insertos accidents or rights, doing it easy to complete a work any way.

Finally I can take touched of of some boxes of myriad of negatives this has accrued for decades, and have the priceless memories have saved in digital format.

It covers in, correct flat place to empty lateralmente.

Additionally, please check our Bergen County Camera Advantage included for Free with every new camera purchase, a $250 value.

AF-S DX Zoom-NIKKOR 12-24mm f/4G IF-ED.

It generates the quite blurred scanner. In this tax was roughly 2025 before I take my slides done. Today I have concentrated scanner three slides in in an hour. The powder is a @@subject and is of entity to maintain a spotless screen or will remark a powder in your escáneres. A scanner comes with the paintbrush of more cleaned that does a work, as any one the external cleaner is required. Was happy likes a work was feigned to do excepts of some accessories have required is quite flimsy.

https://bestreviewsca.com/wolverine-scanners_47590/ And a screen is too small to see details a lot well , copy to need to PC to zoom and control. A unique 3-digit number is automatically added to the file name for each negative. Click the arrow to open the Document Type list, and select the type of your original you are scanning. Third floor staff can answer basic questions, but it is expected that you will know how to use the equipment and software you need for your project. If you need further help, please book a TechConnect session, or use one of our tutorials below. However the wolverine does offer some unique possibilities in the arm mounted ballistics. With jumpjets and an arm mounted ballistic's it's almost custom made as a skirmisher with AC's or Gauss. Really the only thing the Shadowhawk has over this mech is simply the ability to fit a 20 cannon and the arm mounted energy for 2 slot or 3 slot energy weapons. At Your Library is a weekly column provided by the staff of the Brantford Public Library.

Wolverine Products Inc Products:

Anything faster than a Griffin will be able to eat it for breakfast by doggedly pursuing that right torso until its destruction. Doesn't help that the missile tube on the right torso is even more prominent than a hunchback's huch. If you look at the Battletech breakdown really the Phoenix hawk is unique position. But expect to play the SHD-2D2 or WVR-6R the most. As you see, I already have dreambuilds lined up for em, lol. Calm once take a hangs of him there would owe that be few questions.. This work adds, a lot of slides to take by means of. The images are qualities quite well for a prize, although really it depends in a quality of a slide. Exactly like this announced, fast delivery. Has scanned once some pictures to a SD the paper can link to your computer saws cord of USB to download your pictures. Calm alternatively can take a SD paper, and insert he your computer.

Equipment Available

The resolution is abundance for half applications - this so only is not the scanner of quality of the production, but ossia well for a prize. Suitable for digitizing collections of old familiarised photo of film or slides. An on-the memory of joint is limited a bit in 128 MB, but ossia enough for roughly 30 or 40 scanner of access of image amiably with insiemi half of cartridges of slide. Quite easy to transfer direct to PC on USB. This little unit is excellent and suitable my needs perfectly. It is quite down-technology in this manually feeds some slides/negatives manually, but can spend for hundreds of negatives in the relatively short quantity of time. The scanner is quickly once imagine it was. Adjustment Of the exposure and the adjustment by heart are useless. It is better to scan in regular setting and regulate he in computer later. Quickly partorisca use and then upload to our PC, any need partorisca a SD paper unless you do not have immediate access to the computer to offload one has files of tent. I like an easy 2 capture of key and some tools, the slides and another utmost crew.

#wolverine scanners

1 note · View note

ladietblonde · 3 months

Text

If you’re a uni student like me you’ll know that second-term midterm season is like the craziest week of the year, and I’m not talking like Tomorrowland, take-lots-of-MDMA-and-have-a-blackout-dance-party-and-chew-gum-until-your-jaw-moves-involuntarily-for-a-week type of crazy, I’m talking like suddenly you have five deadlines in five days and when it’s all over all you want to do is get drunk with frat boys you don’t like, eat a pizza, then buy all of the half-price Valentine’s chocolate at Duane Reade for yourself so you can gorge yourself until you don’t feel anymore then pass out at 9pm fully dressed with the lights on. Of course, at this time of year, nothing can go smoothly. Right before that last deadline you need to get a debilitating, life-shattering, existential crisis-inducing piece of news that destroys your entire Adderall-induced train of focus and forces you to run home, cry for three hours, and then use your last half-hour of time to somehow write the worst essay to ever exist and turn it in with two minutes to spare and with makeup just all over your face.

If you didn’t guess already, this is why I haven’t posted okay.

The thing about any chic girl, poor or not, is that she’s an absolute neurotic, unstable mess. Everything is planned, she’s a control freak, and when she’s forced to leave the house on a bad hair day, can’t possibly afford a pack of cigarettes, or has her plans destroyed in any way, she has a breakdown. This is where rock bottom comes in. Thankfully, for me, my breakdown fell conveniently on Valentine’s Day, so I spent some money on a bottle of sparkling rosé and a box of macarons, and enjoyed those whilst trying desperately to stay composed and sane for appearances (long-distance boyfriend, skype date, didn’t really want him to see me eating my feelings), and then the day after, I spent $6 on a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, two Toblerone bars, and a can of Pringles which basically became my only friends/emotions for the weekend. Now that it’s all gone, I won’t have an appetite for the week (because my poor little stomach isn’t equipped to hold much more than egg whites and the occasional salmon or celery stalk) and it’ll be like this filthy little weekend never happened.

Thank god I buy all of my clothes in black, white, or grey so I can still have designer clothes, but don’t have to worry about having that one blouse that only matches with one pair of (too big) leather leggings.

There really is no moral to this story, except that the breakdown teaches me one thing every time – I need an emergency fund big enough to afford two bottles of wine, chocolate, ice cream, cigarettes, and pizza. At least.

0 notes

betwixtedthoughts · 4 years

Text

Bet Thinks:

Masking is the external consequence of a very arduous internal process.

I can only speak for myself, but I have never stood at the door and thought, “I don’t want people to think I’m a freak, so I’m going to pretend to be normal.” Absolutely never! I have been blessed to be raised with a very patient brand of unconditional love, and so I have never once thought of myself as abnormal or a freak (except the funky fun kind).

This may not be the case for others on the spectrum, but that is why I cannot fathom “hiding symptoms” to be the cause behind masking because I still mask.

Masking is the result of what I call my “Mental Simulator.”

Everyone has one, but not everyone is constantly conscious of using it. What do you do when someone says, “Hi!” and waves at you across the street? Whatever your response is, that is the active use of your mental simulator. You already know what you’re going to do.

The only problem is, most people don’t even have to think about it. Their body just lifts their hand and waves back, their face breaks into a smile, and they say “Hi!” or “Good morning!” back. Most people don’t have to calculate the exact height at which to raise their hand, the volume or tone with which to say the words, and with what degree of smile appropriate.

And therein lies the problem with leaving the house. Masking happens as a coincidental result of always running that mental simulator. Or should I say the meltdowns are a coincidental result of overworking that mental simulator? Projecting as “normal” isn’t the abnormal condition, the breakdowns are. The meltdowns happen when the mental simulator cannot keep up.

Because see, when I get ready to leave the house, I am forced to prepare myself.

“I am about to step into the world, and there will be things I cannot predict out there. There will be loud sounds, bright lights, lots of things to touch and feel and smell, and lots of people.”

Which means my mental simulator is about to get a workout.

“Is there anyone else in the neighborhood outside? If there are, do I recognize any of them? If I do, is it appropriate to say hello? Have they seen me? Are they in a good mood? Should I say hello? What if they want to start a conversation? Do I have time for that before I need to leave?”

This process can happen rapidly. The more frequently an event occurs, the more prepared I am to deal with it. The more times I encounter someone (anyone) outside in my neighborhood, the more I can develop a rapid and suitable response. I can now wave and say hi while I walk to my car. I now know this is an acceptable response to seeing someone I know walking around outside. It is polite, but it also gets the message across that I need to go. Etc. etc.

Other times, this process lags. The more tired I am, the less experience I have with a situation, the more surprised I am by the event, and other circumstances can slow it down. That often means I end up missing the appropriate timing to respond. Several years ago, if someone were to say hello to me from across the street, I would be blindsided by it. I possibly offended many people because my simulator took too long to decide whether I should smile, wave, say hello back, do all three, or just keep going, and I lost the opportunity to respond.

How tired I am, my experience with the situation, and how surprised I am by the event are all alarmingly critical variables.

My mental simulator is continuously at work, and that takes energy, which means the longer I’m forced to keep it running at full speed, the more exhausted I become. The longer I am out, the more tired I am at the end. Makes sense, does it not? Yes, but the reality of the matter is that exhaustion is sometimes the difference between me being quick enough or too slow to respond to an event, especially at the end of the day.

There was a time where I couldn’t respond to a neighbor waving to me on my way in at the end of the day despite it being the same process as that morning, simply because I had overextended my simulator that day. I had no more energy left to run even one more simulation.

My experience, on the other hand, determines how deeply the event is buried and the amount of energy my simulator requires. It’s like running water down a pipe. If the pipe is small, clogged, or rusted shut, it takes a long time for water to get to the other end. But if the pipe is wide, clean, and frequently used, the water will rush through to the other side. This is the difference between something I’m encountering for the first time or for the hundredth time.

As for surprises, it’s not that I don’t like them! It’s just that surprises mean events I’m unprepared for. And even small events such as bumping into someone I know at the store can be jarring because it’s inserting a new simulation into an already running one.

Think of that like cooking. You’re preparing a meal, and you have all the ingredients and tools you’ll need. You’ve already set the pot on the stove. You’re adding ingredients to your pot. When all of a sudden, you’ve got an entirely different dish to prepare on top of it all. You’re in the middle of keeping track of the first meal because it’s already started, and it’s too late to stop now, but you’ve also got to slice, dice, and prepare the ingredients for this second dish.

Now you’ve got to get them both finished, and they both have to be edible. Sometimes the second dish has to be completed before you can get back to the first, and sometimes the first demands stirring or adding ingredients at fixed intervals. You’ve got no choice but to juggle them both.

Sounds exhausting, no? It’s just as exhausting dealing with surprises. In the same way someone might not mind preparing two dishes simultaneously, I don’t generally mind surprises, but it is still taxing.

And unfortunately, the insertion of these new simulations into existing ones is an inevitable result of leaving the house. That is part of the reason I “gear myself up” for the day before I leave. I have to be prepared to juggle sometimes upwards of ten different dishes at the same time, and they all are going to finish at different times and have different needs in the meantime.

Not to mention the more dishes you’ve got cooking at once, the easier it is to make mistakes. And making mistakes means you’ve got to expend energy to fix them, and the increase in frustration for making the mistake in the first place. Simple things become more and more difficult, until it feels like you either can’t do anything right or that it’s absolutely impossible to get everything done in time.

This mental strain leads, expectedly, to mental exhaustion. I am always tired when I get home, but I’m still not done for the day. Continuing with my metaphor, just because the dish is done cooking doesn’t mean I’m done in the kitchen. I still have to plate the meal, eat it, and clean up afterward.

When I get home, I shut down so I can process my day. I go over the entire excursion. I confirm that I accomplished everything I set out to do, and I review every interaction I inevitably encountered. Not only to make sure I didn’t commit a major faux pas but also to assimilate the events into my simulator for future reference. I reject or approve the effectiveness of the responses I made that day and prepare counter-responses for similar events in the future.

It doesn’t matter if it was a ten minute run to the store or an eight hour day at school, I do this every time I go out. The length of the time out, the strain on my simulator, and the number of surprises determine how much I have to go over and how long it will take for me to “restart.”

This is, incidentally, one of the reasons routines are so comforting. When I have a pattern, it becomes as close to autonomous as is possible for me. These routines become the simulations with the lowest amount of energy required. And I revert to these autonomous routines when I need to process.

I come home, and I fall into my “shut down routine.” I set aside my keys, hang my purse, take off my shoes, and change clothes. If I have not bounced back by that time, I now utilize idle clickers on my phone as they function exactly like my autonomous routine in giving my body something to do on the surface while allocating most of my energy to processing.

Lashing out occurs when the processing couldn’t finish or when my exhaustion levels exceed functioning level.

I don’t mean to bite people’s heads off when in that state, but in either situation, I am so tired that I have no energy to allocate to tone or vocal regulation and all I feel is one more simulation I need to run on zero energy.

Metaphorically, it’s like, in the process of cleaning up the entire kitchen, being told you need to start cooking again. To start the whole process all over again.

And at that point, I have no option but to “blue screen of death” and abort everything.

This often looks like I’ve jumped from a neutral basal state of concentration to immediate frustration or lashing out.

I’m not masking my symptoms while I’m out; I’m just running on, basically, an adrenaline rush. I’m geared up, on guard, and prepared for anything and everything the world has to throw at me. And I tunnel-focus on getting back home so I can retreat to my low-energy lifestyle.

For autism, experience is really the best coping mechanism. The more things you’re exposed to in low tension environments, the better off you’ll be in the long run. The more experience you have, the more you’ll develop routines for events outside, and the more stuff you can make low-energy, the less tired you will be at the end of the day, and so on.

Routines are about predictability, and we find predictable comfortable because we know what to do in response. Rather than lock yourself up in a bubble of comfortable, expand your comfortable. Develop patterns to handle events outside your current routine. It eases the burden on you mentally.

#autism #female autism #masking #mental health #coping

28 notes · View notes

sugar-kisser · 4 years

Text

Park Seonghwa « What Ifs (RW)

original warnings: none word count: 1855

Summer has slowly come to an end, and autumn is just beginning. The cool breeze is what everyone was begging for, but were not expecting this early. But none the less, college students still trudge around campus preparing for their midterms that are in the coming weeks. Just about all the floors in every library is filled except for the oldest library on campus that is said to be abandon, but you and Seonghwa found it the perfect place to study because not many student’s actually step foot near the old building.

So behind several shelves and almost lodged into a secret corner of the library on the second floor, Seonghwa and you sit at one of the small rectangular tables. You currently have three different biology books opened to random pages and sitting in half a circle around you and your not very completed study guide. Seonghwa on the other hand has a stack of four textbooks sitting next to his large history textbook that’s opened to the back so he can right down all the laws he needs to memorize for his history exam in two days. Some times he wished he started on things like this sooner, but you know, college is basically procrastination. Like if you think high school is bad just you wait. Plus he had a life he wanted to live and he didn’t need to attend every single class, so he skipped a few, and just a few. You probably wouldn’t catch him with bad grades so when he found the time to ditch for a day trip somewhere, he did.

You on the other hand never missed a day of class. You were afraid you would fall behind easily considering you’re not the fastest learner and it takes twice as long for you to completely understand something than the average student. But that also makes you a perfectionist because you want to be able to explain it with your eyes closed or even in a different language if you need to. The big achiever that nobody really liked to be friends with in high school, but you cut all ties with your previous life. You needed that fresh start, and you’re happy you did because you met Seonghwa on the first day of college in a level 300 class you accidentally signed up for instead of the level 100, but he managed to help you through it and you ended with a B.

You deeply sigh which easily distracts Seonghwa who puts his pencil down to look at you.

“You okay?” He asks with a small little grin on his face that you want to wipe off.

“No,” you whine, “this midterm is going to be the reason I fail college.” Seonghwa pulls his lips together to not only hide his smile but the oncoming laugh from your dramatic statement. You then drop your head onto the table with a loud thud that could probably be heard from the other side of the library. Seonghwa reaches out to help you back up while sneakily laughing.

“Laugh all you want I don’t care,” you tell him. Your dramatic mood changed to a more depressed tone, and Seonghwa practically feels the life and energy drained from you. All in a matter of a second which quickly concerns him.

“You’re going to be just fine on this test. You have nothing to worry about,” Seonghwa tells you as he rest his hand on your upper back, slightly running his fingers up and down for comfort.

“But I also don’t have your test to copy off of,” you counter which makes Seonghwa bite the inner parts of his cheeks to reframe himself from continuing to laugh as your despair is a little more important at the minute.

“Just take a five minute break, relax, and then get back to doing the study guide,” Seonghwa suggests, “you’ll feel better.” You lift your head up from the table and Seonghwa retracts his arm. You sigh again and look over the mess of your half of the table is. In the corner of your eye you watch as Seonghwa continues about his time writing down his needed information from his history book. You lean over and rest your head against his arm, only causing him to stop writing.

“Y/N,” Seonghwa coos to you, “I need to write.” You whine and move your head back over to your own workspace. You rest your head on top of your hands and close your eyes. A few moments of just not doing anything could be good right? You promise yourself just to count to one hundred before getting back to your assignments. But you don’t quite reach thirty before passing out.

Your light snores don’t go past Seonghwa as he every once in a while glances over at you to make sure you’re okay and not drooling over the libraries textbooks. He’s glad you’re finally getting some sleep. He’ll notice your apartment lights still on when he returns from his late shift hours just about every other day. Lately he’s wondered if you’ve even been sleeping considering the bags under your eyes are black and purple. You do try to hide them with your make-up but Seonghwa knows your little tricks and you can’t fool him.

An hour and a half passes by and Seonghwa gets through most of all his work before deciding he wants to call it a night. He looks over you one last time deciding if he should wake you now or if he should let you sleep a little longer. You don’t quite look comfortable slouched over a table sleeping but you didn’t seem to mind it all that much. Seonghwa leans back in his chair and looks out the tall skinny ceiling to floor window. A smile blossoms on his face as a lightbulb blinks in his head.

Seonghwa packs his bag and collects his textbooks setting them on a cart for a student librarian to place them back. He sets his bag on the floor after grabbing his wallet and hurries out of the library and across the street to your guys’ favorite coffee shop.

You eventually find yourself waking up when you no longer feel any other body near you radiating off even the smallest amount of heat. You push your head off your textbook and run your hand through your hair. You look over and notice that Seonghwa’s side of the table is spotless clean. His bag isn’t even anywhere in your sight. Had he left you?

You flip your phone around and check the time when the screen turns on- 7:46 PM. You feel your heart sink a little further. Didn’t Seonghwa have another late shift tonight? It starts in about 15 minutes. What sits heaviest on you overall is the fact that Seonghwa didn’t even wake you. Usually he would if you fall asleep during one of your study sessions, so what makes tonight different?

With a shaky little sigh that breaks past your lips and small little droplets of water collecting at your waterline you push yourself up in your chair and look over your study guide and the textbooks in front of you. You at least need to complete the study guide tonight so you can study it for the next seven days straight to get the A you need on the test. You absentmindedly find answers to your study guide questions and write them down without retaining the actual information which will easily leave you lost later on when you come back to study it.

“Ah! You’re awake,” Seonghwa’s voice softly calls out. You whip your head to face the black haired boy approaching you, two large hot drinks in his hands.

“Seonghwa, I thought you left? Don’t you work tonight?” You ask, your voice rather quiet and hoarse.

“No, silly. I don’t work Thursday nights, remember?” Seonghwa lightly laughs, “besides why would I leave you alone in the library sleeping?” He sets the two cups down and that’s when he see’s the build up of water about to fall down your cheeks.

“Y/N,” Seonghwa’s face drops instantly and he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug. You arms wrap around his waist and the side of your face buries itself into his mid-torso. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note. I didn’t think I’d be gone long, nor did I think you were going to wake up until I got back.” Seonghwa let’s go of you before crouching down, his butt almost brushing the floor.

“How about I walk you back to your apartment and we watch a movie? You’re way to stressed to be working on this study guide,” Seonghwa suggests, but you shake your head and blink back your tears.

“I can’t,” you whisper afraid anything above that you’ll have a mental breakdown, “I need to finish this tonight. My test is next week.”

“Which means you still have plenty of time to finish it and study it all,” Seonghwa counters with a small smile, trying to convince you to take a break.

“What if I forget about it?”

“You won’t.”

“What if I don’t complete it?”

“You will.”

“What if I fail the test.”

“Y/N,” Seonghwa laughs in almost disbelief at all your excuses which only causes you to feel more guilt.

“You’re going to be just fine if we take the rest of the night off,” Seonghwa explains as he brushes your hair out of your face, “and when you pass your test next week after not forgetting to complete your study guide I’ll take you out.” You feel everything in the world stop. Did he?

“I won’t know my grades until after the short break,” you tell him which causes him to laugh.

“Y/N you’re going to pass this. So I’m going to take you out,” Seonghwa more-so tells you rather than suggests, “on a date.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks and you reach up to lightly brush your fingers against your pink cheeks.

“Come on cutie,” Seonghwa pats your head before standing all the way back up, “let’s head back to your apartment, watch a movie, and eat food because I am starving.” You break into a small smile which makes Seonghwa instantly feel better that he’s lighten your mood. You put your papers back into your bag and before you can grab your coat Seonghwa does and helps you put it on.

“Thanks,” you squeak before picking up your three textbooks. Seonghwa grabs his backpack and your two hot chocolates, and the two of you head towards the exit. You place your books on the return cart next to Seonghwa’s and take your hot beverage from his hands.

A cool breeze swipes right past the two of you as you head outside into the cold. You slightly shiver but that doesn’t stop Seonghwa from grabbing your hand and pulling it into his coat pocket along with his. You bite back a smile as the two of you head towards your apartment.

#ateez #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez scenarios #ateez park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa #college au #atiny #ateez x atiny #ateez x reader #kpop imagines

93 notes · View notes

noona-clock · 5 years

Text

Working On It - Part 8, Final Chapter

Genre: Teacher!AU

Pairing: Brian (Day6) x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, Oh, yeah, and I love you, Nothing’s Wrong

About Two Years Later

Honestly, you could’ve sat in your car for about an hour and just cried. Cried with joy, of course, because you’d just finished your very last final of dental school. You were officially done, graduating in just a few days.

It had been a long, difficult two years, but you’d done it.

Not without some help, mind you. A lot of help.

Brian had made it seem like it would be no trouble at all to help you out financially, but he had obviously been very optimistic. It hadn’t been easy; he’d had to make a fairly large dent in his savings, but he also hadn’t let you stop him. He had continuously made the argument that it would all be worth it in the end.

Plus, he’d ended up moving in with you and Sammy before the end of your first semester which had lessened the load quite a bit.

But now. Now, it was all over. No more classes, no more tests, no more practicums, no more tuition.

All you had to do was find a job.

Sammy had helped, too, of course. He’d helped you study as best as he could, and he never complained when you took your textbook to his soccer games. He’d even pestered you to contact your old work to see if maybe they would re-hire you as a hygienist, something you planned on doing tomorrow.

Truly, how could you have survived this on your own?

A very long, heavy sigh escaped your lips as you headed to your apartment, clutching your keys. Now that you were done with school, the urge to leave this tiny, old place was overwhelming; you could barely wait to find an actual house with a yard and a garage and privacy.

Speaking of, you figured you would get some for a little while seeing as the middle and high school were still in session; both Brian and Sammy would still be at school.

It would be nice to have some alone time, but... you’d been so busy the past two years, you were very much looking forward to spending more time with the two guys you loved most in this world.

You unlocked the front door of your apartment, letting out another sigh as you walked in.

But then you froze when your gaze landed on just the two guys you’d been thinking of. They were standing in the living room, and the apartment was filled with streamers and balloons and a big banner which read ‘YOU SURVIVED’ hung up on the wall.

“Wha --” you gaped, your brow furrowing.

All of a sudden, Brian and Sammy erupted into cheers. Sammy even blew a noisemaker while Brian threw some confetti into the air.

“What is this?!” you chuckled, setting your bookbag down and making your way over to them. You held your arms out and wrapped them tightly around Sammy (who was now a couple of inches taller than you - don’t get me started).

“You’re officially done,” Brian grinned, accepting your embrace once you’d finished hugging Sammy. “It’s time to celebrate.”

“Both of you are supposed to be in school!” you pointed out, trying to scold them but failing miserably.

“I got a sub for the rest of the afternoon and checked Sammy out early,” Brian explained with a casual shrug.

“We weren’t going to miss this momentous occasion!” Sammy cried before blowing the noisemaker again.

You leaned into Brian, one arm around him with your hand clutching the back of his shirt. You hadn’t been expecting to see them until later, so being greeted by their smiling faces right as you walked in the door? You were already a bit emotional from having finally finished school, but now you were simply overcome.

Brian squeezed your shoulders when he heard you sniffle, and Sammy blew the noisemaker yet again to try and liven the mood.

“What are we doing to celebrate?” you asked with a watery grin.

“Whatever you want,” Brian replied. “We can have a night in, we can go out, we can do anything your heart desires.”

“Ooh!” Sammy gasped. “Can we invite Jae and Dowoon over to play League of Legends?”

Brian let out a single, very amused ‘ha!’ “We’re celebrating your aunt, not you.”

“No, that’s fine,” you chuckled. “Invite Sungjin and Wonpil, too, we can have a little party.”

Brian had a solid group of friends from college, and over the past two and a half years, you’d gotten to know them pretty well. After you’d run into Jae and Wonpil at the movie theater, Brian had introduced you to Sungjin and Dowoon over lunch. They had quickly accepted you into their friend group, and you’d even introduced them to Sammy on Brian’s birthday that first year (you hadn’t been able to get him any presents, but you had thrown him the best party you could at your apartment).

And now, hardly a weekend went by when Sammy didn’t request inviting over his two favorite video game partners. You’d even asked Sungjin to stay with Sammy one weekend when Brian had insisted on whisking you away for a romantic weekend in the mountains. You’d basically been on the verge of a mental breakdown at that point; the stress of school and money had gotten to you, but Brian had successfully calmed you down in the span of two days. He had a way of doing that, actually. Making you focus on the positives to help you overcome the negatives.

It was just one reason why you loved him so much.

“Are you sure?” Brian asked as Sammy pumped his fists in the air and whooped victoriously. “I mean, they’re coming to your graduation party next weekend, you’ll see them then.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, trying to hide a sly smirk. You stood on your toes as Sammy grabbed Brian’s phone from the kitchen counter and presumably began to type out an invite text to Jae. You placed your lips close to Brian’s ear and whispered, “You can ask one of them to take Sammy for the night.”

Brian’s eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. And his lips curved into a smirk to match yours exactly.

You could see it now: Jae would ask Sammy if he wanted to continue their video game back at his place, and while you knew this meant Sammy would stay up until almost dawn playing, Sammy didn’t know you knew. So he would think he was getting away with something, and you and Brian would have the place to yourselves to celebrate in a different way (if you catch my drift).

It was a win/win scenario in every possible way.

Except for the fact that Sammy would be gone. You cherished alone time with Brian, obviously, but you still missed Sammy when he wasn’t around. After almost three years of being his legal guardian, you realized it was sometimes kind of hard to remember a time when Sammy hadn’t been yours.

The two of you talked about his parents a lot, of course - Sammy’s counselor in middle school had urged him to bring them up at home since you were one of his only connections to his parents. But it had gotten to the point where you laughed more than you cried. You had more good days than bad days.

You’d gotten so close with Sammy these past three years, and he just felt like... yours. Like he was your son. And you knew your brother and sister-in-law would’ve wanted nothing less.

But anyway. Enough emotional talk and back to your current situation.

All four of Brian’s friends were able to come over, and the evening played out exactly as you’d imagined. Brian ordered about five pizzas for everyone, and Sammy was at a stage where he was eating so much, you honestly wondered if it would be enough.

Jae and Dowoon plopped right down onto the couch with Sammy and picked up a game controller. They would only set them down to eat and again later when it was time to leave.

Sungjin and Wonpil kept you and Brian company, talking about this and that, congratulating you on completing your degree finally, asking about your future plans. (Side note: you noticed Wonpil started to ask a question - “When are you going to --” and Brian cut him off. You tried not to think too much about it, but it was fairly suspicious...)

Once all of the pizza was gone and the sun had gone down, you watched as Brian shuffled to the couch and bent to whisper something in Jae’s ear. Jae nodded, winking conspiratorially at his friend before setting down his controller.

“Well, who’s up for continuing this at my place?” he asked, turning to eye both Dowoon and Sammy.

Sammy immediately spun to look at you with hopeful, pleading eyes, and you pretended to let out a ‘well, I guess’ sort of sigh.

“Sure,” you relented. “Just don’t stay up all night.”

Sammy sprung from the couch and ran into his room to pack an overnight bag as Sungjin and Wonpil began to clean everything up.

As soon as the door closed behind them about ten minutes later, Brian’s lips were on yours, and he promptly picked you up and carried you into the bedroom.

It had been a while since either of you had spoken. You were cuddled up in bed, and you were fairly sure Brian had fallen asleep. But when you turned over to face him, his eyes were on you, warm and curious as they always were.

“What is it?” he whispered, raising a hand and smoothing your hair back from your forehead.

You simply gazed at him for a few moments, taking in his handsome face while you had the chance. And then you whispered back, “Thank you.”

“For what?” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to your forehead.

“For everything. I don’t think I can ever put into words how much it means to me that you --” You took a breath, already feeling the lump of emotion forming in your throat. “God, this sounds so cheesy, but you changed my life. If it weren’t for you, I would still --”

“You would’ve found your way here eventually,” Brian interrupted. “You didn’t need me.”

“But you came into my life at just the right time. I... I was struggling. I didn’t even know how badly I was struggling, but you helped me. I don’t know how I can ever repay --”

Brian stopped you with a kiss, and you knew if you tried to bring it up again, he would just keep kissing you.

So...

“No, really, I am going to --”

Your lips curved into a smile as Brian pushed you over onto your back, attempting to deepen the kiss through your grin.

Did you know your boyfriend or did you know your boyfriend?

You’d heard Brian and Sammy’s cheers as the dean read out your name and you began to walk across the stage to accept your diploma. Your cheeks warmed, and you lowered your head a little in embarrassment.

And then their cheers got even louder when you shook the university president’s hand and smiled for the quick photo op.

You knew they were proud of you, but did they have to be so loud about it?

When every single student in the auditorium had walked across the stage, you followed your classmates out, trying to keep an eye on your boys so you would be able to find them in the crowd of people.

As soon as you stepped out into the sunshine, you heard two voices calling your name, though one was saying ‘Aunt’ in front of it. You stood on your toes, trying to see over all of the graduation caps surrounding you.

All of a sudden, Brian’s arm shot up through the crowd and waved around. You began to weave your way through to get to him, your lips pulling into a smile as you shuffled closer.

“There she is!” Brian crowed the second he saw you. “The graduate herself come to grace us with her degreed presence.”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, your cheeks pink as you tilted your head to accept his quick kiss.

“All right, come on, picture time.” Brian slid his phone out of his pocket and waved Sammy over to you.

Your nephew came to stand next to you, putting an arm around your shoulders. You put your own arm around his middle as you held your black leather diploma envelope against your chest.

Brian took about a dozen pictures, instructing Sammy to hug you, kiss your cheek, look at you with fond pride - and by the end, he even had to instruct Sammy to smile.

“Come on, Sam,” Brian chuckled. “Look like you’re proud of your aunt, at least!”

“I am! I think it shows in the previous twenty pictures,” Sammy pointed out with a roll of his eyes.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Brian relented. “You come and take the pictures, then.”

So Sammy and Brian switched places, Sammy taking the phone while Brian took his place at your side.

Unsurprisingly, Sammy didn’t have to tell Brian how to pose in the pictures. He hugged you and kissed you and looked at you with fond pride and smiled all on his own.

“Okay, I think that’s good,” Sammy said impatiently after probably the fifth pose.

“No, just one more,” Brian requested.

Sammy groaned.

“Just one! It’ll be a good one, I promise!”

“All right,” Sammy sighed, lifting the phone up yet again.

You stood there smiling, waiting for Brian to put his arm around you or hug you or something. But you didn’t feel his touch. You only heard him say your name.

“Hmm?” you hummed, turning to face him.

But he wasn’t there.

Your eyes shifted downward, and the sight of Brian kneeling on the ground next to you made your heart stop.

Wait, not only was he kneeling -- he was also holding a small, black box in his hands, opened to reveal the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen.

You immediately gasped, your diploma envelope falling to the ground as your hands flew to cover your mouth.

Brian, meanwhile, was smiling as brightly as he’d ever smiled. Sammy was cheering, and you glanced over to see he still had Brian’s phone up, recording everything.

“Y/N,” Brian began when you turned to look back at him. “Will you marry me?”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you wasted no time in nodding your head.

Before you knew, Brian had swept you into his arms, holding you tightly and murmuring how much loved you into your ear.

And the ring was on your finger.

The past three years had been the most difficult, challenging, heartbreaking, and rewarding years of your life. You’d lost your grandmother and your brother, the only family you’d ever known. You’d struggled living paycheck to paycheck, your bank account going into the negatives too many times to count. You’d worried and cried and stressed more than any person should.

You’d lost a lot of things, but you’d gained Sammy. You’d gained a son - a wonderful, amazing, perfect son. And now you were gaining a husband. A wonderful, amazing, perfect husband.

Most people did it the other way around - gain the husband first and then the son. But you couldn’t remember the last time your life had been normal.

Maybe now it would be.

We’ll just say... you were working on it.

Epilogue I

544 notes · View notes

stephhannes · 4 years

Text

new year, who dis

what would be the use in becoming a symbol of walking desolation? awash in multiple griefs, elaborating on anguish. even if i never get to see you again, i’ll know that when we collided we both broke each other open.

-mount eerie, love without possession

i guess it’s been four months since i’ve sat down to write an actual blog. i figured i should at least try to get something out before the new year.

i’ve tried to write an update a few times over the last couple of months, but every time i tried to write something, it’s just aggressively sad. like that one st. vincent lyric— i try to write you a love song, but it comes out a lament. and while an aggressively sad tone is appropriate to how i’ve been feeling, i’ve been trying to bring less sad energy to the table. (a surprise to everyone, because sad energy is my entire brand).

I planned to get this blog up by january 1st. and then i kept putting it off. hence why this starts off saying things like, “i guess it’s been four months,” and “i figured i should at least try to get something out before the new year.” today is february 4th, which means it’s officially been a year and a half since nathan died.

in the last few weeks, i’ve been under a lot of stress. i’m juggling three jobs right now, and somehow still don’t make enough money to survive. i’m sure that at this point, i’ve described to you my bona-fide money saving technique. it’s called “i only eat three days a week because it’s too expensive to feed myself every day,” sometimes, i get lucky, and get the scraps from events at work, and that’s literally like the one (1) thing i look forward to.

i’m still out here searching for a salary (and health insurance) and hopefully, by my birthday, i’ll have that. but we’ll see, the job search has been uhhh…..abysmal to say the least.

anyways, in the midst of being stressed, i’ve realized that i really don’t think about nathan all the time like i used to. sometimes i’ll go like two days before i’m reminded of him. the other day, i was like “am i a bad person because of this?” and like, logically, i know that it’s totally normal, but on the other hand, i can’t help but feel guilty because of it sometimes. i feel a sense of responsibility to exist as a reminder of “hey, this person existed, and they mattered,” and while i realize that’s a huge weight to put onto myself, i feel like if i don’t, then who will?

last night, i was reading house of leaves (which, despite owning a copy since high school, i’ve actually never read it before) and i found nathan’s bookmark (a ticket from a baseball game he went to right after he moved to new york) in it, from when i let him take a few of my books when he moved to nyc. i got weirdly emotional and was like “wow what a fun coincidence to find this item of nathan’s that i’ve never seen before in my life on the 1.5 year anniversary of him dying.” i’m not saying i’m superstitious, but maybe i am a little stitious.

+++

since the last time i wrote a blog, i’ve kept notes on my phone every time something happens that i feel holds some sort of importance- so here’s what’s been in my notes since august 4th.

august 24, 2019. 4:17am

when i went into work on august 5th, a coworker of mine asked how i was doing. i was doing alright. the anniversary of nathan’s death really didn’t hit me too hard. i assumed i would have a huge nervous breakdown, and i didn’t.

then my coworker, who’d also lost a partner, told me, “i hate to sound negative and be the one to tell you this but the second year is a lot harder than the first.”

that’s what i’d been reading online for months, but to hear someone say it to my face i was just like… oh shit.

and so far, the second year has been harder.

i’ve officially been out on my own for a month now.

the best part about having depression is that no matter where you are, you still have depression. i don’t know why i was expecting moving to just alleviate all of my sadness when i know that i’ll always find a way to be miserable wherever i am.

it’s nice to be out of abilene and at least have the option of opportunity, but i basically just spend all of my free time asleep or crying.

as the ancient oracle, britney spears, once said- “my loneliness is killing me.”

now that i’ve started getting into a routine, i’m starting to feel that hole in my life again.

i’m on the same schedule that i was when i lived in new york, almost.

when we lived in new york, i would leave for work around 4, i’d get home around 11:30, and then nathan and i would hang out until around 4am, and then go to bed. the next day, he’d usually wake me up at a normal time, (or at least 2 hours before i had to be at work).

and now i have to leave for work around 4:30, i get home around 11, and when i come home i’m just alone. and i lay in bed until i’m finally exhausted enough to fall asleep, usually around 5am. and then i wake up ten minutes before i have to go to work.

i have been feeling this deep, existential sadness for awhile now. every night, i lay in bed and think about all of the conversations i wish i could revisit with nathan. all of the things i wish i’d said. i relive all of my favorite moments of ours. i am still so desperate to feel close to him again.

i cannot remember a time in my life when i was excited to wake up. i cannot remember a time when i looked forward to my future. in fact, when i think about my mental health as a child, the only thing i remember is one time when i was 12, my dad bought me tickets to see my favorite band. i was obviously so incredibly excited, and expressed the human emotion of joy, and my mother accused me of being on drugs because she’d “never seen me act like that before.” it was so surprising to her to see me happy that she literally thought i was on drugs.

i’ve been like this for as long as i can remember, except for the two years that nathan and i were together. i was still so depressed when we lived together, but for the first time, i was looking forward to the future. for the first time, dealing with my depression seemed worth it. for the first time, putting effort into getting better made sense.

for the first time in my life, i didn’t feel alone.

and it took a lot of effort on nathan’s part to make sure that i didn’t feel alone. the loneliness i’ve always felt is like a self-fulfilling prophecy. i actively choose to retreat from friendships and relationships. i stop responding to texts. i hide away and cancel plans. it’s my fault that i feel isolated- because i isolate myself. and nathan refused to let me do that. when i get stressed, i internalize everything and take it all on my own- and nathan would recognize when i was doing that and beg me to let him help. and i wouldn’t let him help. but he would still do it, because he knew what i needed without me asking and would just quietly provide it for me so that i wouldn’t lose my mind. and a lot of the time the help was just him actively sitting me down and reminding me that i’m in fact, not alone. i’ll never forget when i was so stressed after moving to new york because i was so poor, and nathan telling me that “it’ll be okay. we’ll figure it out.” i never asked him for money, or for help, because i have too much pride for that. but even when i was working, i was struggling to make ends meet for myself, and he would sneakily do things like go to the grocery store and be like “oh hey, i was at the store today and just picked up some chicken for you so you don’t have to go yourself.” there were a few times when i asked him to pick up something from the halal cart for me because i didn’t want to get out of bed and i’d be like “there’s cash in my wallet just grab it” but instead of taking the money from my wallet, he’d just get the food for me, and put the change he had leftover in my wallet for me to have.

but even past that, just emotionally, he’d always reassure me that i wasn’t alone. as soon as he started to sense me doing the thing where i try to isolate myself, he’d just cling to me even harder.

here’s the thing: i’m too tired to fight for myself, and i don’t have anyone that’ll fight for me the way that nathan did.

august 29th, 2019. 5:32pm

so here’s the tea: i went on a date for the first time since nathan died. i went out last night, got drunk, got on bumble and agreed to go on a date this morning. so yeah, i was aggressively hungover, which is maybe not the best version of me for someone to meet- but it’s the version i brought to the table nonetheless. and like, it was fine. well, up until the point he was trying to relate to me and my career in theatre and told me that his favorite musical is CATS. his favorite cat is the rum tum tugger, and he can’t wait to see the movie in december.

it’s not going to work out. CATS is an abomination and i refuse to spend time with anyone who disagrees with that statement.

on a more serious note: i realized that i definitely don’t have the emotional capacity to date. i just can’t bring myself to care about anything anyone has to tell me about themselves. you have two sisters, your parents divorced when you were 8 and and you love CATS? zzzzz….sorry, that was me blacking out for 7 minutes.

y’know, i’m unsure about a lot of things in my life. like, don’t try to ask me what i want for dinner because i refuse to make a decision about anything. don’t ask me what my favorite movie is, or my favorite book. i have no idea, dude, sorry. BUT the one thing i have incredible clarity about is what i deserve in a relationship. i had impossibly high standards before nathan and i were together and now they’re even higher- but that’s fine when you don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with scrubs to begin with.

the other day, i found my journal that i kept in college. it starts in august of 2015, with the eulogy i wrote for my dad’s funeral. an excerpt: “despite me acting like an awful teen at times, he always was on my side. i think that’s what i’ll miss the most. i’ll miss having someone who had my back 100%. i’ll miss having someone who was always making sure i was happy…” and after reading that, i realized why my relationship with nathan was so successful. i’ve always heard that “girls always end up marrying someone like their dad” thing, and for the most part always chalked it up to weird patriarchal bullshit, but maybe there’s a little truth in it. because i definitely see some of my favorite things about my dad reflected in my favorite things about nathan.

september 30, 2019. 1:09am

sometimes the saddest things must be sung.

every time i try to write, it’s impossible to say anything that’s not just “i’m sad.” i haven’t been feeling great lately. i just feel trapped in this infinite loop of sadness and it’s so exhausting. i don’t like being like this. nathan would always get so frustrated with me when my depression was really bad, and i’d always be like do you think this is fun for me??? do you think i like being like this??? do you think i wake up and want to be a goblin??? newsflash my dude, i don’t.

here’s the thing: when nathan first died, i was sad all the time. but it made sense. i had a reason to be sad all of the time.

but i’m still sad all of the time. i wake up, i’m sad for 10 hours and then i go to bed. and then i wake up, maybe go to work, come home and be sad until bedtime. it’s a constant loop of sadness and i am so tired.

nothing i do fulfills me. nothing satisfies me. i have neither purpose nor direction. i’m tired. and i’m sad.

october 2nd, 2019. 7:34pm

i went to urgent care today- turns out i don’t have depression, i just have a torn ligament in my ankle.

for context: i fell down the stairs at work the other day, crunched my ankle like it was an empty ozarka water bottle, and just wrecked my shit. i think this injury has me sadness spiraling a lot more than i normally do. now i get why nathan used to get so depressed whenever he’d injure himself.

the first time i got really sick after nathan died, i was so sad. this is my first ever really bad physical injury- i’ve never broken a bone or torn anything before, and i’m really feeling the loss of nathan right now. like how am i supposed to feed myself when i can barely walk to the kitchen? who’s supposed to remind me to take my ibuprofen every few hours?

senior year of college, i kept getting strep, and the only reason i didn’t die is because every 12 hours nathan would call me to make sure i took my antibiotics, even when i had to take them at 2am. i only have two voicemails from him saved on my phone and literally one of them is from 3am and he’s like “hello wake up, your penicillin is calling, i’m gonna keep calling you until you wake up.”

even though spraining my ankle was a nightmare, it could’ve been worse. just think, if i was a framing device in an emily bronte novel, i would have just had to live at work for five weeks until it healed.

october 11th, 2019. 5:37pm

i haven’t been sleeping lately, and last night i fell asleep around 6am. the cold front had just blown in and it was raining and i finally fell asleep. before i went to bed, i cracked my windows open for the first time this year and when i woke up this morning it was chilly in my room. i woke up in a little cocoon of all of my blankets and pillows and for a moment, before i completely opened my eyes, it felt like i was back in new york, waking up with nathan on a fall wednesday morning. it’s the little things.

october 25th, 2019. 2:19am

i keep thinking about all the things that have returned to me. all of the things that i gave to nathan that are back in my possession, tucked away in my room. like the grey ut shirt that was 3 sizes too big for me- so i gave it to him as a christmas present our first year together. he had been in new york for a semester, and he surprised me by coming to austin for new year’s- we hadn’t talked about christmas gifts or anything, but we ended up giving each other almost the exact same gift. he had gotten me a columbia sweater, and he slept in it for a few days before giving it to me, so it smelled like him. i did the exact same thing with that grey shirt. we couldn’t stop laughing when we exchanged the gifts because we were so amused that we’d gotten the same thing for each other.

after he died, that shirt was one of the few that i kept of his, he slept in it all the time when we lived together. it still smells like him.

i don’t wear my rings anymore, but when i see them in the bottom of my jewelry box, i think about the day that i gave him the engagement ring. he was so afraid of me saying no if he were to propose to me, so i told him that when i knew i’d say yes- i’d give him the ring i wanted him to use. on our first anniversary, i was visiting him in new york, right before i flew back to texas, i left a letter on his desk, with the ring attached. it returned to me a year after that, on our second anniversary when he proposed.

the day after nathan died, i went through all of his stuff. mostly because i knew i was about to fly back to texas and i didn’t know when i’d return to our apartment, so i wanted to collect all of his important documents that i didn’t want to lose. social security card, IDs, cards, passport, etc. but when i was digging through his backpack, i found a folder, where he’d kept all of the letters and cards i’d given to him throughout the years.

my personal favorite was an envelope that had two things in it: a sample size of the perfume that i’ve always worn, and a letter that just said “for when you miss me.” i gave that to him before we were even together. it was during that weird ambiguous era of our relationship where we were too afraid to commit, but were definitely in too deep to not commit. every time i would leave his apartment, he’d comment on how his pillows smelled like me, and how he missed me- right after he made his decision to go to columbia, we assumed we would never see each other again, so i gave him that letter.

i was surprised to see all of those letters because that meant that he moved them from his apartment in abilene, to new york, to our apartment in new york, back to texas, and then to philly.

so in turn, i moved them from philly, back to abilene, and now they’re with me in a box in austin.

and i hope that one day all of the love that i gave to nathan will return to me.

november 4th, 2019. 12:31am

in the deepest, blackest night of despair if you can get just one pinhole of light, all of grace rushes in.

november 19th, 2019. 2:20am

i’ve started taking up space again.

december 20th, 2019. 1:41pm

y’know, i’ve been doing pretty well for myself lately, and by that i mean that i haven’t had any major meltdowns. well, except for a couple of days ago. it was a christmas party, and as we all know- i’m not great at being social. but i also never turn down an invitation, which is a strange combination of things that happen to exist at the core of my being. but luckily, i got a plus one. see, with a plus one, i have a buffer there. i can bring one of my more interesting friends to carry conversations for me and then by proxy i become more able to socialize because i have to expend less energy by having that buffer there. anyways the person i was bringing as my plus one cancelled two hours before the event which meant that i had no time to try to get someone else to come with me. and this threw me into a major breakdown. i didn’t even want to go to the party at this point, but i had spent so much money on an outfit that if i didn’t go i would have wasted like 60 dollars. and i sat there trying to put makeup on to go but i kept crying and ruining it and then i chugged three white claws before even showing up at the party and i didn’t eat beforehand because there was supposed to be food there but by the time i was done crying and arrived, there was nothing left and then i drank 5 glasses of wine because it was free and i have social anxiety, and somehow i made it through the night without making a fool of myself, which is a miracle.

the thing is, i really don’t get upset about a lot of things. but if someone cancels or changes plans on me, especially plans that we’d had set for at least a month in advance, i lose my god damn mind. there is historically nothing that upsets me more.

but this time around, i realized that it really hurt me because it was the first time that i was confronted with the fact that i no longer have anyone in my life that prioritizes me. like, if nathan was begrudgingly my plus one to an event, he can’t get out of it- it’s non-negotiable. but like, i don’t hold that level of importance in anyone else’s life- there’s always something more important to them and uhhhhh that feeling sucks.

+++

and that was the last note i wrote in 2019. which brings us to january 2020. when i think about my relationship with nathan, i feel like january always ended up being a special month for us. in 2016, january was the first time i ever spent the night with nathan. in 2017, nathan came back to texas to see me for the new year, after we’d been long-distance for five months. at the end of 2017, he went out of town for like three weeks, and i was miserable and all alone for the holidays, but in january 2018, his last day of vacation back home in abilene coincided with my first day of vacation back in abilene so we got to see each other for a little bit instead of having to go an entire month apart during the holidays.

so i always end up getting weird and do a lot of reminiscing in january- but i feel like that’s kind of universal.

like the #1 thing that everyone does is get all existential and contemplative when the new year hits.

+++

in 2018, i never stopped moving. like a shark, i would have died if i stayed in one place for too long. and there i was in 2019, finally staying in one place.

it was a lot easier to ask for help when i had a reason to be sad. but now enough time has passed since nathan died that i feel like a burden when i’m not doing well.

in my blog post wrapping up 2018, i said that my goal was to be kinder to myself. i also said that 2019 was going to be for starting a new life.

and while i’ve been no kinder to myself, at least i’ve made strides in living in this new phase of my life. in 2019 i moved out of my mother’s house, and back into my best friend’s apartment in austin. i got 3 jobs. i cut off all of my hair and pierced my nose. i started taking up space again.

a few weeks ago, a coworker of mine told me that she had also lost a partner before. but what stuck with me was when she said, “you will never be the same. you’ll be happy again, and you’ll fall in love again- but you’ll never be the same person again”

and i’m realizing how true that is.

i think one of the scariest scenarios is waking up one day and not remembering who you are. and that’s exactly what happened to me in 2018. i woke up one day without nathan and couldn’t remember who i was.

one thing everyone’s been talking about lately is how this is the end of the decade, and i realized that nathan was in my life for the entire decade. he was in my life before the decade even started. and then when he died, i lost such a huge part of my identity. there’s a bear’s den lyric that’s like “i don’t want to know who i am without you,” and that’s what 2019 was for me.

kintsugi is the japanese art of fixing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with a lacquer mixed with powdered gold. i’ve always been a vase held by shaky hands, constantly on the precipice of shattering- and in 2018 i was dropped. in 2019, i’ve been finding tiny pieces of myself and trying to piece them back together to form a whole person again.

recently, i’ve been realizing all of the little pieces of me that are missing. like the part of me that used to be good at holding conversations with people. and the part of me that had the ability to be a person for more than like 3 hours a day. and the part of me that showed excitement about things. i don’t even know what things excite me anymore? do i have interests or hobbies? not really. one time, i described myself as a robot that powers off if i am not at work, and wow, what an apt description.

the other day, one of my friends called me out about how she can never tell if i’m actually excited about something or not. my language is always very vague and even when i’m really stoked about something, i rarely show excitement about it.

+++

so now it’s february 2020. it’s been a year and a half since nathan died. i’m feeling better. the other day, i came to the realization that i think my emotions have finally leveled off. i’m back to my normal amount of unstable, rather than that really virulent level that i was at for awhile at the end of last year. it feels good to finally have a little bit of control back over my life. i’ve finally really settled in at work, and i’m starting to feel more confident in my capabilities.

so what are my goals for 2020? i think the biggest thing is to find something that i care about. honestly, probably a big part of the reason why i’ve been having such a hard time finding a Big Girl Job to settle into is because there’s just nothing that i’m 100% passionate about. it’s hard for me to find an answer other than “i’m just trying to not die,” whenever i get asked “so why do you want this job?” i really want to find lasting stability this year. i’m tired of not being able to enjoy anything because i don’t have money. whoever said money can’t buy happiness obviously was never poor because let me tell you, i’d be a lot happier if i could afford to go out with my friends more often. or if i could like…….eat 3 meals a day without feeling guilty for wasting food because i know i can live on just one meal a day.

i also started doing a skincare routine that involves like 4 different serums and i’ve been doing really well keeping up with doing it twice a day and if i could carry that energy through the rest of the year that’d be dope. i would make a comment about how i’ve been going to the gym every day and how i’m trying to have a 2020 glo-up but i was going to the gym every day for awhile but i haven’t been in like two weeks.

also my chemical romance just reunited so i guess my other 2020 goal is to see them on this reunion tour.

1 note · View note

purge-that-urge-rhackathon · 5 years

Text

Ballsy

An idea from @starfruitspice about Rhys and Vasquez being in a meeting with Handsome Jack, only for there to be no seat for Rhys. So he plops his butt right down in Jack’s lap instead xD

Also on my ao3 here. :) My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.

It had been one year, sixteen days, three hours, and forty-seven minutes since Rhys had first met Handsome Jack in the flesh.

Four months, eighteen days, and forty-five minutes after that first meeting, Jack had asked Rhys out to dinner.

And last night, laying underneath Jack after sating their need, Rhys laughed and brushed sweat-damp hair from his face, stress relieved and worries comforted as Jack patted his ass and told him he’d take care of everything.

There was a meeting tomorrow for his department heads, and it wasn’t good.

He’d been pulling a lot of late nights to handle the excess problems that had been piled upon him by middle-management, or specifically, his arch-nemesis Vasquez. Work that had been necessary-- high-priority even- and neglected by those who should have delegated the issues better.

Jack was… Well, livid didn’t quite cut it, but he was definitely upset by the vulnerabilities that Helios had had for far longer than they should have. Stuff that could have easily been exploited by anyone with a decent set of hacking skills and the time to do so.

Luckily, no such thing had happened as of yet, and Helios was still flying high in the sky, safe and sound as Rhys worked himself ragged trying to apply the equivalent of a bandaid to patch the gaping holes in basic security.

It was far more than one man could do alone, and much too late. And to make matters worse, he was given an impossible deadline with the caveat that should he not finish in time, it would be on his head.

Basically, Vasquez was taking advantage of his higher position and trying to-- at the very least- get Rhys fired… possibly from a cannon.

The bastard had taken the position that should have been Rhys’ several months back, due to a few coincidences and plain-out ill-timing, and not only was the bearded man incompetent, but apparently he could hold a pretty solid grudge as well, even if he’d gotten what he wanted.

Vasquez had been baiting Rhys for weeks, trying to set him up for failure only for the other man to already head him off with upper management. But this, though… This was gross incompetence at its finest.

Rhys had maybe had a little undignified breakdown on his comm with Jack, the older man asking where he was when he missed their movie date, and Rhys was still at the office far later than anyone who valued their sanity and sleep should have been. And that’s when everything had come to a head, and he rambled about deadlines and grudges and wanting to perform well, and Jack had told him to leave it all and meet him at his penthouse.

One enthusiastic round of sex later, and the younger man was feeling way better about things.

“Why don’t you just let me handle that douchebag, babe?” Jack said as he kissed about the younger man’s neck, getting pleased little huffs from Rhys.

“I told you from the start that I didn’t want special treatment,” Rhys said as he looked over his shoulder, meeting the arched eyebrow on Jack’s face. The older man’s unimpressed expression made him chuckle. “I want to get ahead by my skills, not my connections, Jack.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a few connections for ya right here,” Jack laughed, pressing his hips into Rhys’ ass and making the younger man chuckle. It was too soon to go again, but didn’t mean Jack couldn’t make jokes or rub his soft cock against him. “...maybe in like ten minutes.”

“Just ten? That’s a little ambitious.”

“You little shit,” Jack said fondly, turning him over to kiss him properly. After he had the younger man sighing and humming in his throat, Jack broke to look down at him again. “Seriously though, kitten. Old wallethead has been begging to be taken down a peg or five. I thought you said that office should be yours.”

“Well, yeah…”

“Rhysie…” Jack sort of chuckled, though it was ill-spirited. “When they stop playing fair, you stop playing fair.” That got a smirk out of the younger man at least, and Jack grinned. “Want me to feed him to the lab animals in R&D?”

The idea made a smile play about Rhys’ lips. “No, maybe not that.”

“I can make an accident happen,” the older man proposed with a wicked grin. “Something involving life support systems… but more fun.”

The idea made Rhys chuckle, tempting as it was. But his ego wouldn’t allow for something so simple. “I don’t want to take the position the same way he did, Jack.”

“Aw, baby, you want the peons who work for you to trust you? Love you?” That got a roll of the eyes and a huff from the younger man. But Jack wasn’t deterred. “We could always go public, buttercup. No one would think twice about crossing you if they know you’re with me. Not to mention all the mid-day office sex we could be having.”

Rhys snorted. “More than we already have now?”

“Hey now cupcake, it’s been, like, weeks since I last bent you over a desk.”

“Well I’ve been busy cleaning up that security issue.”

“And I told you I can make it all right. Vent the idiot that’s pushed this all on you and give you his office. I could even do it right now. Whaddya say, Rhysie?”

The temptation was real, but it was important to the younger man he accomplish this on his own.

He’d never said it aloud, and he didn’t think Jack didn’t know, but the older man was still his hero. Even if they were fucking, and spending quality time together-- and Rhys had gotten to know the man behind the image- he still looked up to Jack; still wanted to be like him. Jack had taken what he wanted, yes, but he’d fended off Dahl on his own. He’d proven his skill and worth to the company, not only to take the position he had now, but to keep it. And regardless of how much Jack told him his worth, he needed to prove it to himself through his own trial of obstacles.

Vasquez was his Dahl; he needed to know he could achieve things through his own means. It was harder than employing dirty tricks, yeah, but much more satisfying.

“That’s really sweet, Jack.” Rhys’ voice was soft, touched by the sentiments. But no, he still didn’t want to ride the CEO’s coattails. “But I just-- I want to know I’m good enough.”

“Aw baby, you’re definitely good enough. Just ask my dick.”

“Jack.”

The stern tone warned the older man against pushing his luck, and though it was frustrating, he got it. “Fine, have it your way. Keep up all this unnecessary secrecy bullshit and make it all harder. Not including my--”

“Finish that sentence and I’m going to sleep.”

“My uh, my work productivity,” Jack amended playfully. He dropped the subject all together at the smile and roll of eyes that garnered him, and instead decided to kiss the frown from the younger man’s face. “What do you say to round two, pumpkin?”

“I’d say, has it really been ten minutes?”

Jack couldn’t help the ugly snort of laughter that left him, muttering about how he could get his dick up just fine, and he’d make the younger man regret his words.

And at the very least, it did help to make Rhys feel better. He slept more soundly that night than all the weeks previous, not knowing more problems awaited him tomorrow.

“Theeeeere you are, cupcake. Finally chose to grace us with your presence, huh?”

Jack’s booming voice made Rhys inwardly roll his eyes as he finally made it to the CEO’s office.

Rhys hadn’t been told he was going to be a part of this meeting, and the smirk on Vasquez’ face told him it was every bit as intentional as he suspected.

Apparently, everyone in the department knew about the personnel change except for Rhys. Upper-management were busy scrambling against a minor data hack that required their attentions and clearance, and Rhys was stuck on the roster in their place with Vasquez. Over three hours ago.

Part of him wondered why Jack hadn’t messaged him about this some time in the past hour, and the other part wondered if the CEO had even known about the change. Certainly he would have said something; let Rhys know about the brewing storm since it was, after all, his decision to keep their relationship a secret, and he’d be in the man’s office as an employee, not his lover.

Then again, judging by the shit-eating grin on Vasquez’ face, this was yet another attempt on his job, and Jack was probably just as surprised as Rhys.

The glare Rhys shot Vasquez was nothing short of venomous as he strode into the office, the click of his heeled boots echoing off the marble floors while Jack’s grin only grew.

“We’ve been having a nice long conversation about you, kitten. A nice, involved conversation,” Jack told him as the younger man brought up to stand before Jack’s desk, somewhere near Vasquez.

“Is that so?” Rhys said quietly, shooting a look at Vasquez’ smug face as the bearded man looked far too pleased for someone responsible for leaving Helios and Hyperion open to attack.

“You’re over an hour late, Rhys,” Vasquez self-important voice drawled, a look in his eyes that was giddy with anticipation as he more or less threw his underling under the bus. He turned back to face the CEO, a look that seemed to say ‘see what I mean?’ on his face. “His work ethic is usually better than this, sir. Though I wish I could say the incompetence is new.”

Rhys could feel his face heat with fury. This was more than laziness, more than plain old competition and a grudge. Vasquez was actively trying to get him killed here. And had he not been secure in his relationship with Jack, he might’ve been scared he would’ve.

But no, Jack knew what was happening. He knew the situation. And furthermore, he knew that Rhys wanted to handle this on his own. It was the only reason the older man hadn’t sent this dirtbag down the corpse hatch his chair was halfway hovering over.

“Rude, too,” Jack added to Vasquez with a smirk aimed at Rhys. “Been in this meeting a full five minutes and still standing. Have a seat, buttercup.”

Rhys minorly frowned in confusion, wondering what Jack was up to and where he intended for Rhys to go.

There was only the one chair in front of Jack’s desk, clearly taken from a set further to the right where a couch and matching chair were set up as a kind of inner-office lounge. There were normally no chairs in front of the CEO’s desk, this he knew well. Did Jack want him to fetch his own? No, more likely he was trying to push Rhys into taking Vasquez’ seat, if not testing him to see if he’d sit on the floor. Or maybe kill the man right there in what would have been a poetic homage to Jack’s own snatch of power.

Well, Rhys chose to do none of those things, but he did choose his plan of action.

The surprise on Vasquez’ face quickly turned to cold panic as Rhys approached the CEO’s own desk, a look of surprised confusion on Jack’s face before he realized what it was the younger man intended to do. Jack leaned back in his chair, barely able to keep the smirk from his face as Rhys rounded the desk only to plop himself right in the CEO’s lap.

Jack wasn’t ashamed to admit the little demonstration gave him a boner right there and then, because the sheer brass balls on Rhys to make such a power move in front of his boss impressed the shit out of the CEO. He didn’t know what kind of game this was, or how the younger man wanted to play it, but boy was he ever game.

Jack huffed a little laugh, placing a hand on Rhys’ thigh as the younger man met his eyes before turning his gaze away. Never before was the temptation to fuck the younger man over a desk so alluring-- present company an audience or not- but Jack pushed the impulse back, turning his own smirking grin on the pallor of the bearded man sat down before them.

“And here I thought you said he wasn’t a team player,” Jack said with utter amusement, his hand giving Rhys’ thigh an appreciative squeeze.

“I- I ah- I-I-”

Jack chuckled as Vasquez stuttered, his face looking all the more white and bloodless against the black of his beard. Again, he felt a surge of pride for Rhys… or maybe that was just his dick. He was sure Rhys could feel him hard beneath that lovely ass parked in his lap. Oooh the things he wanted to do to the younger man… but it would have to wait.

He lazily stroked Rhys’ thigh, getting close enough to his crotch that Rhys shot the older man a warning look, but Jack only chuckled. Not like wallethead could see anything from where he was sitting anyways.

“Anyway, now that we’re all seated,” Jack said with a gleeful little smirk, “Care to explain to me how your department let a gaping frickin’ hole develop in our security protocols?”

Vasquez’ eyes shot to Rhys’ face before looking at the CEO and back. He was clearly out of his element here. Every possible way he’d imagined this meeting could have gone, and not once did something like this even enter his wildest dreams.

“The uh… t-the vulnerability was small when we--”

“Small, huh?” Jack asked, his hand stilling on Rhys’ thigh as his eyes narrowed at the bearded man. “You could drive a friggin’ truck through the size of the hole in our security!”

“B-but it was--” Vasquez’ eyes went to Rhys, full of fear and lacking the bravado of one who would pull such a stunt on him. He immediately tried to shift the blame. “The problem was small when Rhys here was assigned to--”

“When were you assigned to this problem, buttercup?” Jack immediately asked, turning his attention on the man in his lap.

Though his tone was soft, Rhys wasn’t dumb. Jack was furious, and the question was serious, vital to the livelihood of everyone on the station. Rhys wrapped his hand around the one Jack had on his thigh, and gave his hand a squeeze. “Three weeks ago, sir.”

“Three weeks, huh?” Jack turned his attention back to Vasquez, who was visibly sweating now. “Didn’t you say you had your team working on it since last month?”

“I-I- I uh, there’s-- I-It’s been a busy month, sir,” Vasquez sputtered out.

Jack’s hand left Rhys’ thigh to lean forward, grabbing an echotablet on his desk that had the details of the hole in security that was currently being exploited. He exhaled through his nose as he read over details, and Rhys raised a brow at Vasquez, as if to really let it sink in that he was alone in this matter, and Rhys wouldn’t be helping him. “Hm… and yet right here is the memo from one of our engineers letting your department know about the problem… Two months ago.”

“H-Handsome Jack, sir, please, there’s-- There’s clearly some, ah, miscommunication here-- Rhys--”

“Oh reeeeeally now, wallethead?” Jack threw the tablet back on the desk, leaning forward enough that Rhys had to lean back to get out of his way. The CEO chuckled dangerously, his hand back on Rhys’ thigh just a bit too tightly. “Because the way it looks to me, is that your incompetence-“

“T-The problem was supposed to be solved by Rhys--”

“And whose piss-poor management left a gaping freaking hole in the entirety of my goddamn space station?!” Jack’s snarl filled the whole of the office, not only outraged at being interrupted but also at the weak explanations he was being offered.

Rhys felt no small sense of satisfaction in the way Vasquez’ lip quivered, what little blood was left in his face now totally gone, leaving him whiter than a sheet. The grip Jack had on his thigh was bordering on pain, and his own heart was beating quickly with the adrenaline in the room, as well as with excitement and a small sense of accomplishment.

He didn’t even have to do much. Vasquez had incriminated himself plenty, and Jack apparently had all the evidence he needed of his inadequacy. No back-stabbing, no blackmail. It wasn’t at all too early to congratulate himself. If Vasquez started begging on his knees, it would only be the icing on top of the cake.

“H-Handsome Jack-- sir, please--”

Jack’s voice was dark with laughter, leaning back into his chair. “You don’t have anything better to say for yourself?”

His voice was far softer, and somehow it was so much more effective than any yelling the CEO could have done. Rhys squirmed under the hand he had on the younger man’s thigh, and Jack released his grip to resume slowly petting the younger man as he watched Vasquez sputter and stammer and make the same exact face everyone facing Jack’s wrath usually did.

Jack turned his attention back on Rhys, a dangerous grin on his face mixed with a sort of dark amusement. “Rhysie-- do you mind if I call ya Rhysie, buttercup?- What do you think I should do with this guy?”

Something pleased and self-assured unfurled inside the younger man, and-- burning and victorious in the satisfaction of it all- Rhys turned his attention to Vasquez before he looked back at Jack. “Well, sir, considering the absolute mess of things, and the seriousness of Helios’ life-support systems connected with our security--”

“Ah! Say no more, cupcake. Airlocking it is!”

“N-no Handsome Jack, sir! Please I-- Rhys! Rhys please--”

“Shut up you idiot, smart and handsome guys talking here,” Jack said, his hand again creeping up Rhys’ thigh to delve fingertips just between.

“I was going to say,” Rhys spoke up again, squeezing his legs together to stop Jack’s further exploration, “that since he created this mess, he should be the one to clean it up.”

Jack frowned a bit, not understanding as he looked at the pretty younger man in his lap. Vasquez was hardly skilled enough to patch everything, let alone on his own. He didn’t quite get how Rhys thought old wallethead could fix this mess. “IIIII’m not really followin’ ya, kiddo.”

Rhys moved his gaze back on Vasquez, relishing in the irony of it all as he couldn’t help the smirk that stretched over his face. “I heard janitorial had an opening.”

“What?!” Vasquez’ voice was indignant at the very idea, minor color coming back to his cheeks as Jack began to chuckle, totally ignoring the bearded man in favor of the one sitting in his lap.

“Janitorial, huh?” the CEO grinned, his hand moving further between Rhys’ legs before sliding all the way to his crotch. “Interesting. And I guess that would leave his job position vacant, wouldn’t it kitten?” Jack’s thumb rested just above Rhys’ cock in his pants, the older man cupping him with a wicked grin. Rhys gasped just a little at the pressure there, his attention from Jack’s hand only taken by the weak objection from Vasquez’ in his seat.

“B-but I’m not--”

“What was that?” Jack asked, a sharp look at Vasquez. A smile flashed across Jack’s face, gone as soon as it appeared. “That almost sounded like someone was ungrateful for not becoming the newest tourist to Helios’ orbit.”

“N-no sir, I just--”

“Good. Excellent. All settled then. Now get the hell out.” Vasquez frowed, sputtering as he looked at Jack helplessly. The CEO snarled at him, his hand giving Rhys a squeeze that made the younger man jump. “Do you have a death wish or something wallethead?!”

Vasquez jumped from his seat and ran, and Jack’s pleased cackles shook Rhys in his lap as they watched the bearded man flee.

“Damn, did you see the look on his face, pumpkin? Priceless.”

“Jack…” Rhys’ shaky laugh drew the older man’s eyes to his own, Rhys’ cheeks a little flushed as he grinned. “Your hand.”

The older man smirked. “What, this?” He gave the younger man’s stiffening cock a squeeze in his pants, chuckling. “Someone likes a little vengeance, doesn’t he?”

Rhys chuckled, ducking his face into Jack’s neck. Jack pressed a kiss to his neck, feeling Rhys’ smile in his own. “We really don’t have time for this, Jack,” Rhys said, though he pressed a kiss to the older man’s neck. “My department was fighting that breach of our systems when I left… and my patches will only hold for so long.”

Jack chuckled, shaking his head, and Rhys pulled away to look at him with both confusion and lust. “That was my little attack there, sweetheart.” Jack reached over Rhys again to fetch the tablet he’d thrown earlier. “Just a little something to make those asshats down there actually do their friggin’ jobs,” he said with a grin, fingers quickly dancing over the screen to pull up his own programming. “I’ve got a job for you too, sweetheart.”

“Mmm...Vasquez’ job?”

Jack snorted. “Well clearly, baby. But right now I was thinking something a little more hands on and more immediate.” Rhys gasped as Jack’s hand worked him through his pants, a little moan going through him as Jack chuckled. “Heh, that was a ballsy move there, pumpkin. Ballsy as hell. Sittin’ that tight ass down in the boss man’s lap right in front of that idiot… Christ that got me hard.”

Rhys only snickered, spreading his legs a little so Jack could further grope at him. A grin split his face thinking of the look that had been on Vasquez’ face as he’d fled the office. “Yeah, well… It seemed like the best thing to do.”

“Best damn decision anyone ever made,” Jack told him, kissing him and working the button at his fly. “He probably thinks you’re nuts, cupcake.” Jack stopped the hand he was working down Rhys’ pants, shaking with sudden laughter. “Can you imagine how that looked to him, baby? Holy crap, his face… Mmm you’re still full of surprises and I love it,” Jack finished with a kiss to Rhys’ jaw, delving his hand once again only to bring the younger man’s cock out.

“Mm Jack…” Rhys sighed out, pushing his forehead into Jack’s neck as his cock flexed in the older man’s hand.

“How’d you like to be bent over the boss man’s desk, buttercup?”

Jack’s voice was deep and lust-filled in his ear, the smile on his face apparent in his voice, and Rhys moaned as his thumb brushed over his cockhead. Didn’t sound like a bad idea to him, honestly. “It’s definitely been a while.”

“Been a while?” Jack’s hand stopped stroking him, and Rhys pulled back to give him a frown. “What do you call last night?”

Rhys snorted and rolled his eyes, a smile on his face. “I mean the desk part in particular, Jack.”

“Oooh gotcha!” The older man chuckled and pressed a kiss to the younger man’s cheek. He patted Rhys’ thigh. “Up, kitten.”

Rhys scrambled off his lap only for Jack to stand and embrace him from behind. His breathy snickers on the back of Rhys’ neck sent a pleasurable shiver up the younger man’s spine. The front of his thighs were pressed against the edge of Jack’s desk as the older man crowded him, and Rhys held Jack’s hands to his front fondly, sighing as the older man moved to again take his cock in hand.

“Seriously sweetheart, that was so friggin’ sexy the way you just sat right down,” Jack told him, pressing his own clothed cock into Rhys’ ass. “No one’s ever done that before. I’m gonna be thinkin’ about that for a long time.”

Rhys snickered and pressed backwards into the hardness Jack was grinding against him, moaning as the older man’s hand stroked him. “Jack come on.”

“I plan to, Rhysie,” he said with a laugh, nibbling Rhys’ ear and removing his hand from his cock to get his own pants down. He chuckled as Rhys looked over his shoulder in judgment over Jack’s hand off his cock in order to free his own. “That’s quite a pout on that cute face.”

“You’re taking forever,” Rhys whined, cock leaking and closer than he wanted to admit already, the high of Vasquez running from the office still surging through him.

“Mouthy, too,” Jack said with a grin, not at all put-off as he spread the younger man’s cheeks. Rhys properly bent over the desk, trying to urge Jack to fuck him already. Jack grinned as he rubbed his cock back and forth over the cleft of Rhys’ ass, wrenching impatient moans from the younger man. He fetched the lube from a drawer and dribbled a liberal amount over the younger man’s ass, lubing up his cock at the same time while a shiver went over Rhys.

A breathy laugh escaped Jack as his thumb skirted the younger man’s still-loose hole. “Someone fuck you within an inch of your life last night, baby?” Rhys moaned as Jack pressed his thumb in. “Someone handsome I bet…”

Rhys laughed, a lusty, breathy sound. “Jack please.” He pressed backwards, trying to get more of the older man’s thumb into him.

“Mmm eager, sweetheart? Let daddy take care of you.”

Jack was a little ashamed at how on-edge he already was, his desire to keep playing with Rhys warring with the desire to get his rocks off. He gave the younger man a smack to the ass that stole a sound from Rhys’ lips that made Jack chuckle. He then slicked up his cock and worked the tip in, wrenching a satisfied moan from the man under him. He pulled back only to work himself further, inch by inch as Rhys sighed in pleasure.

“Ahh yes yes yes,” Rhys spoke quickly, pressing back to get Jack deeper faster.

Jack bit his lip, the eagerness of the younger man and the novelty of fucking him over his desk for the first time in ages making him closer than he would have liked. He took Rhys’ cock back up in his hand, the short thrusts he gave moving deeper as he already felt his peak rising.

“Ah! Jack that’s so-- mmm….” He was going to come. He was going to come, and embarrassment and the fact that Jack would most likely poke fun at him did not deter his orgasm.

“What, close already?” Jack huffed, his thrusts becoming haphazard as he was quickly reaching his peak. His hand sped up on Rhys’ cock. “It’s like no one’s-- ah-- no one’s been giving you the good stuff-- ah yeah--”

At Jack’s next thrust, Rhys was gripping Jack’s desk for purchase as he was coming in spurts over the hand stroking his cock. The older man was groaning hard as he ground himself against Rhys’ ass, shaking as he released into the younger man.

Rhys laid boneless against the desk as Jack laid heavily upon him, kissing his neck and chuckling. Jack wiped his hand on Rhys’ pants, the younger man murmuring his name in annoyance, but he returned the squeeze Jack gave one of his hands. Jack pulled out with a groan to sit back in his chair, tugging Rhys with him with little mind for his release still leaking out of him.

“Mm a good desk-fuck was just what the boss ordered.”

“We’re a mess, Jack,” Rhys pointed out, though he chuckled and leaned into the older man’s chest. He tucked his soft cock back into his pants, sighing with so much satisfaction it wasn’t even funny.

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo. No one’s gonna see it from your big new office anyways.”

Rhys snorted. “If you think I’m walking back in these pants, think again.”

Jack snickered and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Well, guess you can just hang out with me and patch this damn hole in my space station.”

A grin took Rhys as he leaned his head back on Jack’s shoulder, exposing an amount of his neck the older man decided to worry with his teeth. It made his voice light with extra satisfaction. “It’s too big just for us, Jack.”

“Excuse you, baby, but just who do you think you’re sitting on top of?” Rhys chuckled, and Jack gave his thigh a pat. “If those idiots in upper management don’t start pulling their weight, we’ll just give you a bigger office and a bigger raise.” Jack huffed under his breath with annoyance. “Those morons better have gotten something done since this morning.”

“...I wouldn’t call the morning a complete waste,” Rhys said, self-pleased with how everything had gone.

“Yeah, well, honeymoon is over, sweetheart. Get that ass up and let’s fix this shit.”

There’d be time for cuddling and all the sweet-shit Rhys knew Jack secretly loved after the security issue was better dealt with. For now though, they had serious work to do.

Rhys rolled his eyes at the quick way Jack was shunting him off, but got himself up with an optimistic smirk.

kofi | ao3

#rhack #rhys #handsome jack #fanfic #my fic #please let me know if theres any glaringly obvious mistakes/missing sentences >_>#i really didnt feel like writing smut but it needed that kind of ending soooo i kind of just... did it #with anoyance xD just to get the rest of the story done AHAHAH #please leave a comment over on ao3 if you enjoyed! :D

99 notes · View notes

rockofeye · 5 years

Note

Hello! I have learned so much from your blog and the resources you’ve provided. Thank you for maintaining this space. For a while, I’ve been grappling with belief or faith in the existence of deities, spirits, and other spiritual beings. If it’s not too intrusive or personal, could you share any examples of supernatural occurrences that really demonstrated to you: wow, these things are really real? I apologize if my request is inappropriate or poorly phrased. I’m just searching for answers.

Hello!

I’m glad you have found the blog helpful–beyond just writing about my own experiences, that’s kinda been the whole point!

Faith is a hard thing. There’s no easy on and off switch and we can’t just have it transplanted into us or magically just show up. It’s something I struggled with for a long time because I am a natural skeptic and sometimes a bit of a pessimistic skeptic. I had to learn for myself that faith was a muscle that I needed to exercise to make it work. I think that’s a hard thing, especially in a world and (often) culture that has us explicitly or implicitly looking for proof of things that can often be unseen.

How I worked through a lot of that for myself was really ‘fake it ‘til you make it’. I acted as if things were of course absolutely one hundred percent as real as the person sitting next to me on the Subway, and, for me, that opened a door for those things to really manifest. Like, I am stubborn and I decided to be stubborn in that way and it worked for me. It was like I was meeting the spirits at least halfway and it gave them something to work with. For me, it worked. The spirits sort of kicked that door in and here we are. YMMV, of course, but really looking at things with open eyes can show you what there is to see. We often say in the religion that Ginen is open for all those who have eyes to see it….a lot of starting out in Vodou is learning how to see.

I am always happy to share a good story. Sharing makes me happy because it fulfills my idealistic desire to give people what was and continues to be given to me: when I was just starting out, people spent hours telling me stories about how they came to be where they were with their spirits. Now stories teach me specific things about the nature of spirits, the nature of spiritual work, and how I operate as a priest. Story-telling is a huge way we learn things in Vodou, since it is a primarily orally-passed religion, and it is how we connect with each other and form bonds.

On the other hand, stories can be incredibly personal, and some of the meaning of stories can get lost without personal context, so don’t hold what I say as the be all end all of faith. That being said, the faith I have developed in my spirits over time has become the foundation for my life and I hope it can give a little hope to others.

On with the stories! Not all are distinctly Vodou-related, but most are. Have three:

When I was a small child (no more than 5 or 6), I had a nightmare that I woke up screaming from. I had it a few times, but it stuck with me. I don’t have a lot of clear memories of my childhood, but I have always remembered this dream:

I was playing in the backyard of the house I grew up in and my father was doing yard work. Behind a sort of stone platform was this grinning skeleton who looked at me and laughed, and that terrified me because I was young and scared of scary things. My father was near me, and all of a sudden, the skeleton took out a gun and shot him in the stomach. I watched the blood spread on my dad’s tshirt and he asked me to go and get him a fresh tshirt to wear (normal request for him).

I woke up absolutely terrified from this and it stuck with me basically forever, without me thinking much more of it….until a fete just before I went to Haiti the first time. It was a fet Kouzen and Gede showed up randomly while Kouzen was eating, and I was tending to Gede.

All of a sudden I had this world-crashing-on-my-head moment of clarity and I looked at Gede and said ‘it was you in the dream, wasn’t it’. He started cackling and patted my cheek and told me I had always been his child. Gede had protected/saved me from my father, who has never been a good person. He watched over me while I was small and kept me as safe as was possible.

–

For a long time, I worked third shift in various human services settings. At one program, I worked with a co-worker who I came to know pretty well, and we had a good rhythm to our shifts: for the first four hours, I sat upstairs monitoring the clients while they slept, and she stayed downstairs. We would switch halfway through the night.

One night, I am sitting upstairs and everything is quiet. Co-worker is napping, I am reading, clients are all asleep. All of a sudden, there is this enormous, deafening crash down in the kitchen. I call down and ask my coworker if that was her and if she was okay, she says it was not her and goes to investigate. Nothing is out of place, except a locked cabinet that she left locked was now unlocked and wide open. I didn’t unlock it, she didn’t unlock it, and she is freaked out.

When I come downstairs for a moment, we hear footsteps on the opposite side of the house (same floor) that we are on, but there is no one there--we can see where we hear it. At this point, every light on the first floor is on and we have checked every door and window on the first floor. They’re all locked. More strange sounds and coworker is very unhappy. She’s from a traditional culture and is on the phone with her sister in her home country talking about how to cast the devil out.

We switch spots for the night, and I go to take a nap on one of the couches in one of the living rooms. It’s post 3AM and as I am falling asleep, I am jolted away by a creepy male voice in my ear and breath on my cheek saying ‘are you ready?’. I leap off the fucking couch and flip on the light, and there is no one there (of course). Like, I am not easily frightened but I expected to turn the lights on and find a man with a knife standing over me. What’s worse is that I could feel the presence of a gross man. I lay there the rest of the night with the lights on.

Around 5:30AM, the first person for the day shift came in. She usually left us alone and had her coffee another room. At about 6AM, I hear what sounds like one of the clients overexuberantly crashing down the stairs. It’s too early for them to be downstairs, so I go to investigate...no client to be found, early coworker saw no client, and upstairs coworker confirms no client is out of their bed. Everyone heard it, but we have no idea where it came from.

As I am crossing the landing at the bottom of the stairs, I can feel someone looking down on me from the landing above where the stairs turn, and, out of the corner of my eye, I see a large dark figure. Of course when I turn to look, there is no one there...but this huge sense of malice was sort of hovering and I know for a fact, if I had been coming down those stairs right then, I would have fallen and broken my leg.

Early coworker confirmed that she thought the place was haunted like a motherfucker, and talked about the shadowy figure she has seen and the fact that any clients that were placed in one of the back bedrooms always went a little nuts, because there was something definitively wrong with that bedroom.

I went back the next night and had a ‘look, motherfucker’ conversation with Mr. Murder and told him that if he didn’t leave me alone, I would evict him and it would not be fun. I had no more problems there, really, but it shook me up because it was so tangible and so damn nasty.

When I was preparing for kanzo, a lot of unexpected things happened including me packing to leave my apartment the day before I left for Haiti. It sucked quite a bit, but it was definitely for a reason and I don’t regret it.

It was about 1AM the night before I was scheduled to leave, and I had spent the day bringing stuff over to a friend’s house since I was using their basement as free storage. I realized that I had not brought any of my clothes over to storage. Like, two giant garbage bags sitting in my room full of all the clothes I was not taking, and I nearly had a breakdown. I had sold my car that same day, and I had to get across the city with very little cash and two giant contractor bags full of clothes. I called a cab, and it never showed and so I sat on the curb outside my apartment trying not to cry, and I called an Uber.

Happily, the Uber came. A cute little silver car pulled up, and out jumped a Haitian man dressed in jeans and a blue plaid shirt. He grabbed my two giant bags like they were nothing, tossed them in the trunk, and away we went. We chitchatted and I told him I was going to Haiti the next day, and he was SO EXCITED, particularly when I told him I was going to Jacmel...because that’s where he was from! He kept saying over and over, ‘oh, you are going to have a great trip..it will be just what you need!’.

When we got to my destination, he grabbed these two giant heavy bags of clothes and basically levitated them up the stairs to the front door of the house I was dropping them off at. Big grin and superhuman strength, and I knew Kouzen (who comes from Jacmel and wears denim and blue and plaid) had come to rescue me.

That’s what I’ve got!

#Anonymous #vodou #haitian vodou #road to kanzo #dreams #paranormal things

10 notes · View notes

blaiddydbrokeit · 1 year

Text

I need people to understand that eating disorders are classed as mental illnesses for a reason. They are mental disorders affecting one's relationship with food and/or body image. Eating disorders are NOT weight disorders.

Telling people that their weight is "too high" to have an eating disorder solely by BMI when they are already losing weight faster than should be warranted but not yet "underweight" is telling someone who is already struggling mentally that they aren't "sick enough" to have a problem or need help. It's asking them to get worse to "prove" that they have an ED.

#i lost about 15lbs since about october last year #and basically take three hours to have a breakdown before i can eat except for very specific items #but i got told that my bmi was still in the normal range and therefore i can't have an ed #the psych took it one step further and called it a discipline issue and that i should just force myself to eat #i'm mentally ill not stupid #if it were as simple as just eating do you think i'd be raising these concerns #dimi breaks the silence #tw eating disorder

0 notes

iphoenixrising · 6 years

Note

1/3 YOU! I blame you for the fic idea that haunts me. A happier alternative to your AOB verse where in the midst of Bruce being presumed dead and Tim basically holding down all of Gotham as Robin while Dick is off doing something other than making sure the already suicidal boy is okay, the bit where Jason gets invited in to the Cave goes differently. Cause while Tim is dealing with the free-for-all that is a Batman-less Gotham like a Boss, things like food, sleep & hygiene has been abandoned.

2/3 Instead of hearing B’s last message to him and going of the deep end as a result, Jason picks up the faintest scent of Omega distressed/abandoned/desperation coming from Tim’s direction and comes closer, ready to mock and rag at the presumed beta for fooling around with some poor omega in this stressful situation. Except the scent only gets stronger, because Tim’s suppressants have worked hard over the years but this last death is just too much, Tim’s suppressants quit and retire to Florida.

3/3 Omega pheromones of unsexey desperation and painpainalonepackless come into the air as Tim belatedly backs up. And now Jason has to deal with Alpha instincts to comfort and Jason instincts yell at everyone, while Tim is weighing up his chances of escape while having three different breakdowns at the same time.I can’t decide if it all ends in cosy cuddling or smut… your thoughts and permission maybe for me to write this plus Dick’s belated entrance.

Hi babe.

Ah, permission?! WRITE THAT THING. Fuck yes! Take the world and make it your own. Take this storyline idea and tweak it your way, with your interpretation of Tim’s voice and Omega politics with spicy Alpha on the side. Give your Omega!Tim his own space somewhere and let him grow.

I know you’ll experience the same love and support from the fandom as I do because this idea just takes the fucking breath out of me it’s so good.

I love writing Tim still as Robin, and you already make me feel how he’s dragging some ass, still in mourning for B, and lost without Dick. He’s been working more nights than he can remember, and it’s all starting to catch up. He’s more vulnerable than he’s ever been, even when he was alone before, riding his own cases. It's worse because he doesn’t have B to fall back on like when he lost his mom and his dad. Even better he’s literally the only thing keeping the drugs, the gangs, the scary Rogue Gallery on their usual escapades, at bay.

But it’s not just about Gotham.

He’s riding with the Titans still, trying to coordinate missions from Gotham while he’s solving his own cases. Maybe Bart and Kon are still gone, so there could be new recruits in your world, or it could be he’s got them back, but still missing the Batman in Gotham so it’s not like he sees them outside of Skype sessions at three am with half-slurred life updates. He could at least have them as an excuse to keep going this long.

But he’s collapsed by the Batcomputer, beaten and battered, bruised and more than a little broken. His Pack is gone and all the security, all the safety, all the things he craves…just gone.

(Last one left standing, of fucking course.)

So his instincts are completely out of wack and he's physically pushed to the limits of his endurance. The stress and strain, the fact he’s made his body skip yet another Heat and his hormones are going crazy in retaliation. Of course the scent blockers fail because he’s sweaty and tired, dirty and worn, and he’s so close to nodding off, he doesn’t even realize the sweet tinge to the air is his natural scent (but to be honest, he’s hidden his orientation for years. It’s probably more sad that he’s forgotten his own scent). His eyes are blurry and his body sinking further in the chair, the throb of pain in his chest is suppressed whines, the Omega in him fighting to pick up the damn phone and call Dick just to hear the sound of his voice, but knows how upset the pack Alpha would be if Tim interrupted him while he was trying to keep Dami sane and safe.

Just the realization is enough to make his eyes get hot and full because fuck he’s so alone–

He hasn’t even closed his eyes all the way when he registers the purr of a Ducati already in the Cave proper. He’s swaying on his feet in time to see the Red Hood throw down the kickstand and swing a leg over.

Jay tosses the helmet, ready to give this little shit a piece of his motherfucking mind.

But the scent hits him in the face like a punch the second he breathes.

Timmy wouldn’t have brought an Omega here and the scent is too strong to be from contact, even fucking, so the detective puts it together just that fast. The Alpha in him, however, is almost crawling out of his fucking mouth, tearing at him to hold and soothe, feed and calm until that scent is gone.

“Jesus Motherfucking Christ. What did they do t’ ya?” Is low and gentle even if this guy seriously tried to slit his throat not that long ago. “Pretender…. Tim. Ain’t gonna hurt ‘cha, yeah? Just gonna make ya somethin’ ta eat, getcha a nice shower, sleep maybe a few hours, who the fuck knows?”

And while he’s talking, using his hands to keep the exhausted, overwrought Omega, he’s inching closer, a low purr starting in his chest, something that vibrates down Tim’s spine, makes his pupils dilate.

Either way you go, they could have such an epic fight after this. Just Tim fighting with will alone, fighting not to go down, probably riding panic and fear now that someone –that Jason Fucking Todd– knew his most dire secret.

it could very realistically end with Jason pretty much just defending himself, never trying to land a blow, keeps trying to talk Tim out of the fear, with the two of them by the glass case with Jay’s Robin tunic. And the bigger vigilante is wrapped around his smaller replacement, part-trapping him, part-holding him, rocking back and forth gently. He’s so far into his inner Alpha, all he can do is purr against Tim’s back and rub his cheek against the Omega’s so his scent would help soothe.

When Tim finally goes limp in his lap, Jason can unwind his cramping legs and stand with the Omega high in his arms and every intention of being a good Alpha.

Ah, so there’s some ideas for you, babe.

WRITE THE THING :D

#omega!tim #alpha!jason #aob #tagged for anon #winter answers #because babe is going to write the thing #tim drake #jason todd #jaytim

330 notes · View notes

thisdiscontentedwinter · 5 years

Text

Stella and the Wolf - Chapter 6

You can read it here on AO3, or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here.

The way Stiles figures it, the Alpha is the heart of the problem. As long as the Alpha is out there wanting both Derek and Scott to turn into mindless killing machines, that makes the Argents a problem too. Maybe they’ll back off when the Alpha is out of the picture? Although the amount of times Derek has been shot or stabbed, that’s a big maybe. There’s not a lot of love lost there, clearly. But the Alpha is still the biggest problem. And Stiles has no idea who it is.

He keeps circling back around to Deaton, Scott’s boss at the vet clinic, because Deaton is developing this habit of just kind of being in the vicinity when werewolf shit goes down. And when he talks, he’s always saying more than his words, even if Stiles doesn’t know exactly what he’s saying. He knows something, that’s for sure.

Except…

Except Scott works with Deaton three afternoons a week, and every Saturday. So if Deaton is really the Alpha, why hasn’t he taken the opportunity to get Scott to do his evil bidding or exert his mind control or whatever the fuck it is that Alphas do, when Scott is right there? Deaton is shady as fuck, basically, but him being the Alpha doesn’t quite add up.

Stiles has always loved solving puzzles, but when literally every person in town is a potential suspect? It’s not as easy as Law and Order makes it look, is all he’s saying. Despite his best efforts, Stiles is not going to solve this in forty-five minutes plus ad breaks.

He needs to know more about the Alpha’s victims. The bus driver, and the two guys drinking in the woods… Because if the Alpha is batshit insane, why haven’t there been more killings? Why isn’t he out there in broad daylight tearing people apart?

So maybe there’s a pattern, right?

Maybe there’s an actual motive.

He really needs to get a look at Dad’s reports.

Unfortunately, Dad knows better than to bring that stuff home, and has ever since Stiles was nine, helped himself to some light reading, and then asked Dad over dinner what carnal abuse was.

So now Dad’s files stay at work, and Stiles is pretty sure the laptop he brings home is password protected to NSA levels. Which leaves him with no choice—he needs to get to Dad’s files at the station, and copy them.

Stella, of course, is happy to help. For all that she’s a tattletale whenever Stiles is keeping secrets from her, all he needs to do to buy her undying loyalty is to make her an accomplice.

“You got this, Batgirl?” he asks when they pull up at the Sheriff’s Department.

She gives him the thumbs up. “Got it!”

Nobody has ever accused Stiles of stealthiness, or even subtlety, so lucky he’s got Stella to act as a distraction. She barrels into the station talking a mile a minute—she gets that from him—and straight into the bullpen, where she finds Dad and a few of the deputies, and proceeds to spin a tale about how mean one of the boys was at school today, and how he pulled her hair. Her outrage is palpable, and she adds the icing to the cake by announcing, “And Mrs. Svensen, she was the teacher on playground duty, said that he must have done it because he likes me. But I don’t like it when he pulls my hair! It’s not fair!”

Stiles slips away into the file room.

He finds the files on the recent killings, and photographs the pages using his phone. Even the autopsy reports, although they make his stomach churn. He does the same to Laura Hale’s file—stopping once and freezing when he hears footsteps passing—and then, more on instinct than anything else, looks for the file on the Hale house fire.

It’s huge.

Three massive folders stuffed with papers, and there’s no way Stiles will be able to copy it all.

Not in the few minutes he has left, anyway.

He doesn’t allow himself a moment to second-guess what is probably a monumentally stupid thing to do. Just unzips his backpack, shoves the file inside, and zips it up again.

By the time he gets back to the bullpen, Tara is showing Stella how to stomp on a guy’s foot and knee him in the balls in one smooth movement.

It’s sort of hot, but that’s Tara all over.

“Want to be my guinea pig, Stiles?” she asks him with a smile, fingers hooked into the utility belt hanging off her hips, and Stiles tries very hard not to think about what it would feel like with her hands touching him. Like, he’s pretty sure it’d be worth getting kneed in the balls.

He feels his face burn. “Um… I… um. What?”

“Back to work everyone!” Dad says suddenly, putting a hand on Stiles’s shoulder and steering him firmly away from his humiliating inability to speak in actual sentences right now. “So, what did you two drop in for anyway?”

Stella skips alongside them. “Stiles is taking me to the hospital, but I wanted to see you first.”

“The hospital?”

“My Reading in the Community program!”

“Oh, right,” Dad says. He looks at his watch. “What time does that finish?”

“Five,” Stiles says. Now he’s out of Tara’s sight he can apparently remember how to use his words. “I figured I’d drop her off then go to Scott’s and do some homework before I go back and collect her.”

He’s actually intending to sit in his Jeep in the parking lot and photograph the entire Hale house fire file, but why muddy the waters with truth? Then he can hopefully return it to the station before Dad notices it’s even gone. Not that Dad will notice, right? The Hale house fire was years ago. Why would anyone want to look at the file today suddenly?

Stiles ignores the snarky little voice in his head that reminds him that the obvious connection is Laura Hale, because come on, Dad’s probably already made that connection, and probably already looked over the Hale fire file again recently, and the chances that he needs to do it again in the hour that Stella is at the hospital at miniscule at best, right?

Totally.

This is fine.

Stiles is not going to get busted.

This is fine.

“Sounds good, kid,” Dad says. “I’ll see you both at home for dinner.”

Stiles and Stella escape back into the sunlight.

***

There are four other little kids waiting at the hospital with their moms when Stiles turns up. It’s always a little awkward. Stiles is pretty bad at mom talk. Usually he just slinks to the edge of a space and plays games on his phone until he can escape, but this is a pretty small crowd and it’s hard to get lost in it. Stiles figures most of Stella’s school friends know her deal, but they don’t necessarily tell their parents, because there’s always at least someone who looks at him like ‘Why is this kid here at this thing?’

And Stiles really doesn’t like explaining his life story to strangers.

He’s saved from having to do it today when Stella’s teacher arrives. “Okay, we’re all here! Let’s go and read. Parents, you can pick your kids up from here at five!”

She saves a special smile for Stiles.

Stiles likes Mrs. Lucas, but it’s weird. She’s middle-aged, and it’s weird that she was actually his teacher in elementary school too, and the one big memory he has of her is the time he had a meltdown in class because his mom was going to die, and she took him outside and hugged him and didn’t even complain that he got snot all over her blouse. It’s awkward because he sometimes wonders if that’s her one prevailing memory of him as well, and he always feels like a little kid playing dress-up when he has to interact with her for Stella’s school stuff as like Dad’s proxy.

He smiles and waves as Mrs. Lucas ushers the kids into the hospital, and then dodges the other parents and hurries back to the parking lot.

He’s got an hour to photograph every page of the Hale house fire.

He sets his alarm on his phone and gets to work.

***

“I thought you were going home after the hospital,” Dad says when Stiles and Stella turn up at the station again.

Stella bursts into tears.

She’s not pretending this time.

Stiles watches, hollow-eyed, as Dad pulls her into a hug.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dad says, rubbing her back and looking at Stiles. “It’s okay, baby girl.”

“She got a coma patient,” Stiles says, his throat aching. “Mrs. Lucas said she was fine with it, but then we got to the car and this happened.”

Dad presses his mouth into a thin line for a moment. “Okay. You don’t need to go back next time, Stella.”

She draws back, tear-stained and affronted. “No! I want to!”

“You want to?” Dad asks, brows raising.

“Mrs. McCall says that it’s not like being asleep. He can still hear me read, so I’m going to do it again.” Her grim determination wavers. “It just makes me sad.”

Dad looks at Stiles, helpless.

Stiles shrugs. “I um, I need the bathroom.”

He’s feeling pretty close to a breakdown himself, after skimming through the Hale house fire file. He’d known, in the abstract, how bad it was. He’d even dealt with the autopsy photographs okay, since none of them looked like actual people as long as he didn’t study them too hard. But it was the other photographs that felt like a stab in the guts. Cora Hale’s yearbook photo. Talia and James Hale with their arms around one another, laughing. Patrick Hale in a little league uniform. Eight of them in total. Eight real people whose lives had been cut short in that fire.

That fire that Derek said had been started by hunters.

By the Argents.

Stiles had looked at the file and felt a chill to the core at the thought of that happening to Scott and Melissa. Happening to someone just because there are werewolves in the family.

He shuffles down the corridor toward the bathroom, taking a quick detour to replace the files in the file room.

He thinks of Derek again as he closes the door and makes his escape.

Thinks of everything that he’s lost.

Scrubs at his face before he returns to Dad and Stella, but it’s okay if Dad thinks he’s been crying too. He knows how Stiles feels when Stella gets hurt.

Dad ends up clocking out early from work.

They get pizza for dinner, because nobody feels like cooking.

They eat on the couch, Stella sandwiched in the middle.

Everything feels strange and fragile, like an itch under his skin, and Stiles hates it.

It’s not fair.

Nothing in the world is far.

Later that night when Stella and Dad are both asleep in their rooms, Stiles eases his bedroom window open, grabs the keys to the Jeep, and climbs out into the night.

Because nothing in the world is fair, and Derek shouldn’t be out there alone.

#sterek #my fics #discontentedwinter #Stella and the Wolf

40 notes · View notes

jasonislostinjapan · 5 years

Text

4/19/19 Update

Hello again everyone!! I really was planning to make a post much earlier, but I had been a lot busier recently than expected. This is going to be a fairly long post, so get ready to read!

About three weeks ago, I moved into my apartment in Yotsuya, which is in central Tokyo. I love my neighborhood, because there are so many cute houses, lots of trees, and a bunch of little shrines/temples. My apartment building is pretty old and I have to walk up to the fifth floor, but my room is much more spacious than last summer’s and looks very clean and new.

-Night view from the balcony of my apartment.

-Some food I made at home. I don’t always eat out!

About two weeks ago, I went out to meet with a group of William & Mary and Keio University students! Everyone in the group had studied or will study abroad at each others’ schools. We ate at an izakaya (a bar-type restaurant with small dishes and drinks). Lots of yummy treats and all-you-can-drink made for a good night, lol. We ended up going to another drinking place right after that, which taught me how much Japanese people like to drink!

-Picture of the group before heading to the last trains at midnight

One weekend, I went out to participate in hanami, which is the viewing of cherry blossoms. Luckily, I was able to experience the sakura in full bloom, and it was just amazing getting to see them while walking around any place in Tokyo. One popular place is by the Naka-meguro river. The world’s largest Starbucks is also there, which had a wait of over an hour just to enter! Obviously, I did not go in.

-Random selfie because I know how much you all miss my face

-Outside of world’s largest Starbucks: the Starbucks Reserve Roastery (also wow that girl has really nice hair. Everyone in Japan has such nicely cut and styled hair it makes me feel like a bum)

I also got to meet up with my tomodachi (friend) group through a program at my school. Two of them are Japanese students (Keito and Hina) and one of them is an exchange student from Taiwan (Ling-Yi). Keito grew up in the Saitama prefecture, which is about an hour northwest of Tokyo. I felt bad because it takes him two hours just to commute to school! He specifically grew up in a town called Kawagoe, so he showed us around. It is a very traditional town with many old buildings and is actually trying to attract more tourists. We tried a few different snacks (they are known for sweet potatoes), biked around town, and also visited a shrine and saw sakura. Thank you Keito!!

-Street in Kawagoe with koinobori (hanging carp streamers)

-SUPER beautiful river with sakura and gentle sunlight. Put me into a dreamlike state to be honest.

-Random picture of really good shaved ice (sakura and mango). I hadn’t had shaved ice in like a year, so I was really surprised by how much I liked it. We ordered three of these for just four people, which was way too much. Highly recommend careful portion control.

-Also had one of my favorite Japanese dishes, tsukemen, recently. If I haven’t explained it to you in person, it’s basically ramen except the noodles are on the side and you dip them into the broth (which is usually a bit thicker). SO GOOD. Why is this not a thing in the U.S.

Before I forget, I need to talk about school. I almost forgot that’s the reason I’m even in Japan. It has been really laid-back and fun so far! I keep making a variety of friends from so many different countries. It is so interesting to hear everyone’s commentary during class discussions. I am taking 9 classes, which is a lot but is only 16 credits. They each meet for 1.5 hrs once a week. I’m taking The World of Noh (type of Japanese theatre), Consumer Psychology, Deep Culture Differences in Japan, Human Engineering, Japanese Communication: Daily Life, Japanese Culture/Society in a Qualitative Perspective, Reading Colonialism in Asia, Japanese Grammar 6, and Japanese Society and Communication. All are not bad so far and pretty easy. It’s nice to not really have any science classes to stress over!

-Picture of some of the best pork ramen in Tokyo. The ramen shop is called Ramen Jiro and has many branches, but the original shop is right next to my university! I have never seen another foreigner eat here. Also probably because there is no menu displayed and everyone has to give their specific order in Japanese. It has amazingly soft, fatty pieces of pork with chewy noodles, garlic, bean sprouts, and cabbage. The portion is enormous and only costs $5.50!

Just a few days ago, I went to visit Tokyo Tower, which is right down the road from my school. I went with a mutual friend I met at a club (also clubbing is really fun in Japan but that is a whole other story for another time). The lights of Tokyo Tower at dusk were really nice to see. There was also a small adventure park inside the building that we went to that was quite interesting lol.

-Tokyo Tower. I was surprised when I found out the tower is actually 333 meters tall, taller than the Eiffel Tower’s 300 meters!

On another note, I recently got my MCAT score back and was really happy with my score. It is so nice to finally feel relieved after months of studying and a month of waiting for the results. It’s not always apparent, but I honestly worked so hard to get where I am today. I put in crazy amounts of time and energy into studying for mental breakdown-inducing exams in order to achieve my life-long goals. I am truly grateful for the people in my life who have supported me and make it all worth it. Anyway, this is the end of this really long post. Thank you for reading and hopefully it was interesting?? I LOVE living in Tokyo and definitely will not want to leave in August. All I can do is enjoy these moments!

Until next time,

Jason

1 note · View note

lizzybeth1986 · 6 years

Text

Quick Thoughts on TRR Book 3, Chapter 17

• I'm basically sitting here and thinking "jeez, these guys really want us to know FOR SURE that they don't give a shit about their lone female LI, do they". Like, you gotta admire the dedication this team has to the cause. Like, the audacity of them to put out an entire extra Drake scene while not speaking a word about Hana's sexuality in canon, esp if she isn't your fiancée. That probably takes guts. Or maybe not. Maybe all it really takes is actually giving a damn (or not) about your characters.

• Title: Save the Date. Alternative Title: Proof That Team TRR Has Excellent Memory, Unless Your Name Is Hana Lee.

• The TRR team everytime they need to do their homework on Liam or Drake:

The TRR team everytime they need to do their homework on Maxwell or Hana (but especially Hana):

• So I assumed based on the description and the title (Save the Date), that this would include a RoE-esque selection of dress, decor, cake, all free except for a few choices. So far all we've been able to select for our wedding is food. Today we choose cake via a diamond option, our maids of honor, the kids who will carry the ring down the aisle and our officiant. And gifts for the LIs.

• Madeleine thinks Gladys has "risen" to her "level". Madeleine has a level???

• Okay so we're doing a publicity run of our wedding preps. Are we that desperate to show the rest of the country how much last-minute-wedding-planning we can cram in two hours??

•

Terrence, is this your summer job?? Also, Tina, girl, I saved your ass last book after you screwed me over. The least you could do is say "thank you, O Great One and Saviour of Us All" Jeez, what do I have to do to be worshipped around here these days 🙄

•

PURPLE 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 (Sorry I love that colour it's my favouritest). But wait why am I paying for a dress if I'm going to the bridal boutique to pick out my wedding gown...right? Right?? (Orrr am I going to get a lovely fancy wedding gown for free??? 😀 Who woulda thunk!) (...oh. I have to wait till next week to see my gown. Okay. Okay. 😑)

• So we're now here in this boutique with half the court and Ana de Luca. First on our agenda: the maid of honour. If you're marrying Liam or Drake, you get to choose between Hana, Kiara, Olivia, Penelope and Maxwell. All good options xD If you're marrying Maxwell you get those four. If you're marrying Hana, you get three: Olivia, Penelope and Maxwell. Kiara isn't available because by default Hana picks her to be her MOH. Hana is clearly very, very close to Kiara and values her. Way more than the rest of us in the group seem to do, anyway.

The choices I want for Esther are Hana or Kiara. I love both. I'm so glad they included Maxwell, I like Penelope, Olivia is amazing, and all their reactions are wonderful, but these two are my favourites. (Though I'd say Esther would definitely pick Hana. She's closest to her, even calling herself "the Elizabeth to Hana's Jane").

• Once that's done, the LI gets to choose their Best Man/MOH 2. Liam chooses Drake, and he mostly behaves a little surprised and afraid that he might embarrass Liam on his wedding, which is quite the sweet sentiment and a little sad. Drake chooses Liam and from what I see, the narrative makes it a point to mention that Liam has to force his happiness because he's still not over the MC. He shows this even if the MC has not had romance points with him. Maxwell chooses Drake, specifying that even if they weren't related by marriage, he'd still consider Drake family. Drake is surprised and a little touched by the sentiment. Hana, as I mentioned before, chooses Kiara.

• Time for our ring bearers! The number of choices you have depends on whether you bought the corgi in Book 2 or not. If you do, he shows up as an extra option. The other choices are:

1. Bartie, who will be carried along the aisle via Savannah. I'm getting nightmares of the few times we took my daughter V to church and...nope. Sorry Bartie.

2. Cordonian children. Bertrand tells us that using Cordonian kids, as ring bearers and flower girls, would count as "a sign of commitment to the common people". My headcanon for Esther was that she wanted a mix of both Cordonian and New Orleans traditions (she grew up in the French Quarter), so she took every possible chance she could to highlight how Cordonian a wedding it was so the NOLA elements wouldn't completely alienate people. So she obviously chose this option.

• We now move to the last bit. If you're marrying Maxwell or Hana, Liam automatically becomes an option for the role of officiant, since it is mandatory to have a royal officiate the ceremony. If you're marrying Drake, Liam's not included because he is already Drake's best man by default. The other two options are Leo and Regina. If you choose Regina, the MC views it as fitting, given that Constantine would have been the officiant were he still alive. Regina in that sense would be a fitting stand-in. If you choose Leo, the MC maintains that he would lend "humour and levity to the ceremony" and that's something they all need at the moment.

•

This man and his "my love"s slay me every time.

• BAKLAVA REFERENCE FOR LIAM. ALL THE WAY BACK FROM ROE BOOK 2.

• Esther Noelle DuPont would NEVER leave wedding gown stuff for the last minute. Nor would she wind up on the eve of her wedding not knowing who was designing her dress until the day before. She would be badgering Liam about the cake way before. She would be badgering him about the decor. She'd be badgering him about every little detail. She'd be bridezilla. No way would she be chilling the day before her wedding, ice tea in hand.

• But they did remember that Ana de Luca was originally introduced as a fashion designer from way back in MW! Madeleine also gives Ana some of Krona's finest lace, which makes me wonder if it's a tradition to have lace from Krona on a royal/aristocratic wedding gown. My theory about this gown for the next chapter is that it might be the same for everyone, but will have additional elements behind a paywall. Or will she have options between two or three gowns? Idk.

• We get to choose how we want to be announced, and then comes the diamond option - choosing our cake with the LI.

(Screenshots - @kennaxval for Hana, and YouTube channels Vika Avey for Maxwell and HIMEME for Drake)

This is the breakdown of what this scene looks like in each playthrough:

Liam

Cake flavours: Vanilla Chantilly (white), Mocha Fudge (chocolate) and Sweetened Cordonian Ruby (pink). Liam loves the vanilla one for its subtle and complex flavours, considers the mocha one "strong, daring...somewhat sensual" and finds the pink one full of surprises (due to the Cordnian Ruby flavouring) and that "there's more to it than meets the eye". If you notice all of these are flavours Liam has an established preference for (vanilla, coffee, apples).

Decorations: The Royal design reminds Liam of his parents, so there is an element of nostalgia still there. He loves the colours of the Fairytale design, finds them "fantastically beautiful" and thinks it would be good inspiration in case they would like to expand the palace quarters.

Cake Filling: The filling options are the same across the LIs. Vanilla buttercream, rich chocolate ganache and strawberry mousse. In Liam's case, you can either feed ganache off of each other, simply try each flavour, or have him surprise you. I love my Kinky King so I knew "surprise me" would involve a blindfold somewhere 😂 (Love that option. It's quite sexy). I've also noticed that only Liam seems to have 3 options for the ganache tasting, while the rest have just two.

You also get to choose between Cordonian Ruby Pie and Baklava for a surprise dessert!

Maxwell:

Cake flavours: Coconut (white), Passionfruit (pink), and Spicy Chocolate (chocolate). He thinks of the coconut one as being "pina colada in cake form", loves the element of surprise in the passionfruit and thinks its "non traditional" flavour describes them as an aristocratic couple perfectly, and just says "wow" about the chocolate. The baker, who remembers Maxwell once trying to surprise Bertrand with cheetah cake on the latter's birthday, even sends one as a bit of an inside joke.

Cake Decorations: Maxwell jokes about the royal design being more decked out than some estates but thinks that "nothing says you're a big deal like gilded flowers, gold and jewels you can eat". He loves the castle in the Fairytale design and likes to imagine there are little cake people walking in there.

Surprise desserts for Maxwell include Cordonian Ruby Pie and Cheetah Cake.

Hana

Cake flavours: Strawberry (pink), Madagascar Vanilla (white), and Devil's Food Cake (chocolate). She thinks strawberry makes her think of it as "something...different. Adventurous". She thinks of the Devil's Food cake as "daring" and loves the vanilla because classic white cakes remind her of storybook weddings, and on cajoling from the MC to tell her honestly what flavours are her favourite Hana speaks of vanilla in a manner similar to Liam's.

Decorations: Hana is wowed by the artistry of the Royal design, confessing that she has always wanted to learn to make icing pearls as perfect as the ones on the cake. There is a tiny conversation about her baking that takes a minute, tops. The fairytale option feels whimsical and reminds her of that saying about "building castles in the clouds".

The surprise options for dessert are Cordonian Ruby Pie and Hot Chocolate.

Drake

Cake flavours: Pink Velvet (pink), Old Fashioned Chocolate Cake (chocolate) and Tahitian Vanilla Cake (white). As we all must know by now, he is okay with the flavour but finds pink "girly", doesn't have much to say about the vanilla cake and the chocolate makes him very nostalgic, because the chocolate cake was similar to the recipe his mother would use for his or Savannah's birthday cakes.

Decorations: Drake has reservations about the grandness of the Royal design but thinks it works since the occasion itself is an elaborate one. He admires the structure and craftsmanship of the Fairytale design and both him and the MC speak about the cake reminding them of the towers in Valtoria.

The surprise options for dessert are Cordonian Ruby Pie and S'mores.

• I've noticed that the story clearly references Liam's love for baklava and Maxwell's love for cheetah cakes in this chapter, but for Hana and Drake, they use desserts from their first scenes in Book 2 (where Hana prepares hot chocolate for the MC, and Drake toasts s'mores for her).

• Hmm so apparently there's some sort of surprise that all four LIs are planning for the MC. I'm guessing we'll find out next chapter.

•

My favourite scene in this chapter. I loved how Kiara immediately got protective of Savannah and made it clear that she cared about making Savannah comfortable. I think it's also pretty cool that they remembered to reference the Savannah/Kiara friendship hinted at in Book 2, and it looks like Penelope was quite fond of her too.

• The MC now needs to run to a gift store, because Madeleine lets her know at the nth moment that Cordonian tradition dictates you get gifts for the bridegroom/bride and your closest attendants. Savannah offers to help, in exchange for a little advice on her love life.

• We first pick up wedding favours at a patisserie (chocolates or macarons). I had Esther pick macarons coz she has a liking for French cuisine and food, and macarons are delicate, delicious and versatile.

• We then pass by a shop called "The Gilded Apple" that sells beautiful and rare antiques. Olivia, who loves weapons and artifacts, and is hoping she will find replicas there, is understandably excited. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to find any (unless she did off-screen and we didn't know? Poor Olivia. Why was it so hard to find Nevrakis artifacts/replicas there?)

• So even if you buy that diamond choice to help Bertrand woo Savannah at the Costume Gala, she confesses there are still barriers. Savannah fangirling over Bertrand's "stern, yet sexy eyebrows" is a Mood™.

• Savannah tells us the entire story of how she fell in love with Bertrand, pointing out that she hero-worshipped him and thought him glamorous, and was amazed that he was so protective of her. The MC has a range of joke replies to suggest to Savannah, before telling her seriously that she should confess to him what is in her heart. But my big question is: why are almost all the BertVannah scenes for free? Why couldn't you use that free scene to...idk...properly develop Hana's character maybe??

• So here are our gifts for the LIs:

A Historical Tome for Liam. This is a hand-written history book with a blank chapter left presumably on purpose. The MC points out that he will appreciate either the rarity of the book, or the empty pages. The second option is my favourite, because the blank chapter seems to signify that Cordonia's story is "far from over" and it is "upto Liam to write this next chapter".

Maxwell will get a statue of his namesake. Savannah speculates that even though he looks like little more than an enthusiastic partygoer on the outside, both he and Bertrand can be fierce in their own ways. The MC gets to joke about what the Beaumonts might do with this statue of their ancestor, including imagining a half-drunk Maxwell using his namesake's spear to pop open champagne from a ladder.

Drake's Marshmallows Inside A Whiskey Box is quite funny and the MC gets to roast him a bit. She jokes about how it symbolizes what a softie he is on the inside even though he looks tough on the outside. It can either be spoken of as an inside joke, or as the MC showing him how well she knows him.

Hana's Telescope...well. It doesn't reflect her actual, genuine interests or personal/family history like the other three do, but instead involves some generic messages about "following your path" or "searching out your passions". Which is...eh. Tbh it sounds more like the MC is buying her a Hallmark card or something. This gift doesn't tell us much about HER, but then again when you don't develop your female LI with enough substance, that's what's bound to happen. You'll just throw over any piece of random bullshit to make do.

• I like the little story Kiara gets with her dad using that telescope, though. The one where he fooled her as a child into thinking she could see all of Europe using a telescope. I like the dynamic of that entire family. Sure they can appear businesslike to some but the love and the closeness is clearly there.

• Okay before I say anything...CONGRATS Drake stans. Nice to see so many of your MCs become Mrs Walkers now.

•

(A huge thank you to VioletFlipFlops for this screenshot)

Okay so if you're a Drake stan, you get an extra scene. The MC wants to give Drake a wedding he will be happy with, and Drake would love it too, so Maxwell suggests they elope and he will be their minister/officiant (apparently he got himself ordained to officiate over a wedding between peacocks). So they go to a nearby cliff, where you can have a lovely view of the sunset. Drake brings with him a horse named Lone Star who came all the way from his mother's Texas ranch. They have their secret country wedding and the screenshots I saw look like the stuff out of every Drake stan's dreams. Story wise, this is important for Drake's arc because it shows that he has found his place and he doesn't have to completely leave behind who he is to be the man the MC wants. Both the duel and this impromptu secret wedding bring his story full-circle beautifully.

I had to leave this scene midway though. I couldn't stomach it, couldn't stand it, and for the first time in forever I left viewing a diamond scene before it got over (or before it got to sex if they weren't my LI). I felt a little sick and quite frustrated tbh. And it really isn't because of Drake. My problem here goes deeper than that.

• From the little that I saw, Maxwell was amazing as well. He set aside the bromance jokes for the day because "this isn't about me, it's about the two of you". Oh Maxwell. You really do shine when the writers allotted for you actually bother, and they didn't do you justice this book.

• It's now almost night and our LIs have returned from whatever surprise thingummy they were planning. Everyone's happy and excited and advising the MC to take rest and Mara is here to lead everyone back to the palace. And then a crowd that first looks like a bunch of excited onlookers closes in on the MC, intimidating her, and from among the lot we see...TERRANCE. WITH A GUN. AND A PAPER FULL OF INFO ON OUR WEDDING PLANNING. WTF.

• YOU SHOULD BE IN SCHOOL DOING YOUR HOMEWORK AND PLAYING CLARINET TERRENCE. YOU'RE GROUNDED.

• The tone of the chapter's end sounds like there will be some level of investigation going on but we can't entirely be sure. In any case, I don't know how they will handle both this and the rest of the wedding prep. Let's see.

General Thoughts:

• We'd better get lingerie. I've been through enough I want the kind of sex where my king rips off my clothes and breaks my bed and makes me scream and Gladys has invest in earplugs next and...yeah. I need the right lingerie for that.

• RoE Book 3 could have been better in certain respects but one of the things they did really well was to spread out the wedding preps. It's tougher to do that here, because of all the subplots, but leaving it until so close to the end wasn't exactly the best idea either.

• I'll be honest: the "girly pink cake" comment irked me but didn't entirely anger me. On one level I hate it when people say stuff like that because I'm a girl who grew up hearing those things and I'm a mum who doesn't want my children to internalize that. It may sound like a small thing, like a casual preference, but stereotyping and forcing people into boxes start out with things we believe are "small"...and whether you think he's that kind of person or not, bottomline is the writers shouldn't have had such a massively popular character say that. It could have been ten times easier to just have him say he doesn't like that colour very much or something. See? Crisis averted.

• However, I didn't have as much of a problem with this scene as I did with, say, that scene where the MC and Drake talk to Kiara in Lythikos. Frankly for me, the fact that Drake's sympathy towards Kiara was conditional and depended solely on the MC's responses was way more disturbing. In one option, it's established that Drake and Kiara both struggled mentally in the aftermath of the attack, and that he understands it's difficult for her to get out of that trauma so easily.

But then...if the MC is insensitive and trauma-minimizing, she gets to question Kiara about not being driven enough, about "what will people say if you spend a crisis hiding away in your home?", and Drake agrees. He doesn't contest what she's saying, he doesn't challenge her, he doesn't seem to even have a mind of his own in this sequence. In this option, the MC and Drake face no repercussions at all for essentially minimizing her experience and not addressing their lack of concern for her safety, after finding out about her PTSD. My expectation when I eventually chose that option was that Drake - as someone who went through something similar - would correct the MC, and Kiara would give her the tongue lashing of a lifetime. But no, in that scene Drake is interested in validating this woman's trauma only on someone else's say-so. If I - personally - were to have a problem with Drake as a character, this scene would highlight why. And even then I know the core of the problem is not Drake. Not really. It's not as much Drake as it is the fact that the writers themselves were only interested in lip-service for this scene, not genuine validation (which is why normally sensitive people like Hana and Liam don't seem to question the group's approach to Kiara much, and nor does Maxwell). The writers possibly didn't think Kiara's experience deserved the level of sympathy that was present by default in Penelope's scene at Portavira (which is why I HIGHLY regret speaking positively about the Lythikos conversation in that chapter's QT now).

• But my biggest problem is not Drake himself. The way he is written wouldn't have been a problem at all, under different circumstances. My biggest problem is the discrepancy in how the LIs are treated in the books, how some get quality content and carefully developed character arcs while others are simply given lazy writing. And right now, the differences are so obvious and so glaring they're impossible to ignore.

• Drake got a whole extra scene today. A whole extra scene, on the logic that unlike the other three, he would be way more comfortable with a private ceremony involving just him and the MC (he says as much in Lythikos, both to Kiara and to the MC). Normally, I would have probably been happy about this. It works for Drake's character and story, and brings it full-circle to that photoshoot they had in Chapter 2 on some levels. From the little I managed to read, I can tell it was written really, really well.

And that's the problem. Over here, we have the team working on AN ENTIRE EXTRA SCENE for this character, after chapters and chapters of well developed scenes that acquire depths and layers if he is marrying the MC. Drake's narrative tends to have extra layers stitched into it - the expectations of being a Duke, the reluctance to let go of who he is while embracing his role as a future noble, the insults he faces from people like Neville and how he manages to rise above them by proving himself. Hell, they even ensure that they reference his bond with Liam and how his relationship with the MC complicates things. In this chapter alone, Liam's pain is highlighted differently in Drake's playthrough compared to the others (he shows some level of heartbreak when Drake asks him to be his best man, compared to when Hana or Maxwell ask him to be their officiant). The group chats, too, highlight Liam being part of the chat in the Hana and Maxwell playthroughs, and completely absent on Drake's:

(Screenshots from (2) @kennaxval (Hana), (3) YouTube Channels Vika Avey (Maxwell) and (4) HIMEME (Drake))

I wouldn't be surprised if they had some kind of a closure scene between Drake and Liam on this account later, while having him be absolutely okie-dokie in the Hana and Maxwell playthroughs. That's the level of attention Drake's story is being given (you can argue that Liam's relationship with Drake is different, and you'd be right, but it just goes to show how much WORK went into building this character).

And this is not restricted just to Drake. Liam has way more in terms of content as well and his scenes are of great quality. He has practically the entire book revolving around him! The book aggressively pushes him as an LI until almost the end of Book 2. The narrative has made an effort to view Liam as someone intimately involved and invested in the history of his country - it shows in most of his individual scenes, and in his cake scene and gift this chapter. Even Maxwell, who normally hasn't been given much attention this book, gets memories and some historical stuff this chapter (such as the ancestor who is his namesake and the story about the cheetah cake).

On the other hand...you have Hana. Whose canon sexuality - and her larger struggle with it - is hardly addressed in the books. Whose experience with bullying at the hands of Madeleine has been largely forgotten, even as we're constantly expected to protect Penelope from the same person. Who has gotten some of the most lackluster scenes in the series. Whose character arc got the laziest wrap-up you could imagine, who now doesn't even get original lines to describe a cake flavour she likes, or a gift that adequately reflects who she is. Whose story is given lesser focus than secondary characters like Penelope and Madeleine. PENELOPE. AND MADELEINE.

• Forget about every other chapter and take just this one as an example.

Notice how there is very little genuine personalization or memories attached either to Hana's cake scene - she simply echoes what Liam says about the flavour of vanilla when speaking about her love for classic white cake, and briefly mentions baking - or her gift which is a telescope, and which the MC attaches some generic saying/phrase to. The gift assigned for her itself is SO random, has little to no connection to Hana, and is a very odd choice for a gift. Couple that with the Hallmark-esque sayings that the MC wants to push forward, and compare it to her thought process for any one of the other LI gifts. You will see the difference.

(While you're at it, also check out this story by @i-dream-so-i-write called "The Perfect Gift". It's a rewriting of the scene for Hana's gift)

There is no throwback to, say, a time when they all had to bake pies for Queen Regina, and the latter praised Hana. Or to stories narrated to her. Or to things the MC knows she likes to do. No memories connected to Hana's grandmother, who she was obviously close to. Nothing that tells us anything new about her.

This isn't the first time this is happening. And it definitely won't be the last.

• And it's not as if they don't get any money from Hana's scenes. Even when she isn't picked as a final choice on a very large scale, she still manages to make it to the top ten in terms of diamond spending. She may not be making as much bank as Liam and Drake, but she IS clearly making bank. I'm surprised that's possible because a lot of the writing for her since Book 2 isn't worth the money people like me are constantly spending on her scenes. So I can't even buy the excuse that she's written badly because she's not popular. Clearly there are enough people invested enough in her to buy her scenes despite the lack of effort.

I wish I had more to talk about besides these complaints about how Hana is written, but I'm really not left with much of a choice. I'd like to close this QT by mentioning just one thing: the original line up of LIs given to us was Liam, Drake and Hana. One of them has the entire plot of the story revolving around him. The other has consistent and well-written character development, including an extra secret wedding scene and vast differences in his dialogue with the MC based on his relationship with her. The third LI...is given less attention and validation than at least two secondary characters in the book.

All these three were characters meant to be LIs from the very beginning. All of them made a good amount of money and had great potential for growth. So why is it that only one of the original lineup is given only scraps, while the other two get an all-you-can-eat buffet?

#the royal romance #long post #Liam x mc #king liam #hana x mc #hana lee #drake x mc #drake walker #Maxwell x mc #Maxwell beaumont #Olivia nevrakis #TRR Penelope #trr kiara #Hana rant #TRR quick thoughts #quick thoughts

63 notes · View notes