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#and i really really am wishing hoping praying for the best despite having been in this situation so many times because
lhrry · 2 years
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#tbh over years we’ve had SO many moments where we were like oh yeah so louis is bringing F up and they’re ramping it up again to end it#so so many times some of which are even more recent like the walls era#so i’ve been repeatedly saying that i’d like to think that’s what they’re doing now with the interviews#and i can guess a few scenarios as to how they’d go about it all now (although i did expect them to keep eleanor around at least for a#while after bbg ends so i’m really curious to see how they’re going to work with that one#+ what’s going to happen with it in general bc last time i checked she was still following him)#so i’m really keeping my expectations low because we literally have been there#but there is sth happening for sure and i want so desperately to think it’s good#the checkered outfits of HL that were complementary as well and we even predicted it are sending me#(also they seem really in tune with the fandom rn and idk if these are coincidences but it’s fun)#the way they’ve both been so happy especially since the time around Amsterdam:) is sending me as well#like they both have been glowing recently and louis wore blue sun and the postshow song was a thousand years today like???? ok you sap#and the interviews and pap pics were so weird and i still dont know whether i’m sold on it being only bc of the tickets#so anyway i do think sth is happening and i am sideeyeing the august 4 date a bit more intensely now skmsk#or well the 7s lately i have also been thinking about the 7s sksmsk#but it will be interesting to see what happens#(and whether anything at all#but i think it will at least in connection to E because that’s hardly a glitch)#and i really really am wishing hoping praying for the best despite having been in this situation so many times because#he deserves to start off lt2 promo with a clean slate so much
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sttoru · 6 months
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♯ 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊.
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⟣ sypnosis. kento has been extremely busy lately, going on business trips and so forth. he decides to surprise you by coming back earlier than expected. that’s how you end up finding your lover on top of you, showering you in his affection at 3 in the morning.
⟣ tags. nanami kento x female reader. fluff, bit of angst, suggestive towards the end. reader gets called 'sweetheart, angel, dear' wc: 1.8k
⟣ note. okayokay finally an adition to my event heheh ive almost forgotten about it but then i saw this prompt & was like . ok nanami , i must write this rnnn no delaying anymore so here i am :3 its also very bad. i hate it sm LOL i hope u at least like it t_t
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kento often asks himself why he had returned to the world he despised — the jujutsu society; his old high school. the sprawling curses everywhere are the main cause of his current misery.
he had been sent out on missions left and right, not catching a break in hopes of reducing any more civilian causalities than necessary. kento had even thought that maybe his previous 9-5 job wasn’t as bad as he had considered it.
overtime was every day for the sorcerer now. that wasn’t the worst thing - no - the fact that he was pratically living a long distant relationship with his beloved irritated him most.
a thought he had in his high school days reoccured in a moment of distress: ‘why not leave all those missions to gojo?’
you were still pretty understanding of his situation. kento appreciated that, though the guilt still ate away at him whenever he tried to sleep. an empty bed welcomed him each time he re-entered his hotel room — you saw the exact same scenery when returning home to your shared apartment.
both of you were adults; both knowing that life was unfair. the two of you being unable to see each other from time to time was a part of your life. kento and you still maintained a healthy relationship. that was all that really mattered in the end.
11:49PM. . . tonight wasn’t unlike any other night; you were preparing yourself to go to bed—changing into your pyjamas after showering, snuggling to a pillow under the covers and texting your lover one last message.
‘good luck on your mission as always! stay safe, i love you.’
you stare at your phone screen for a minute longer than intended. even if you tried to be mature about it — you longed for kento’s warmth and undivided attention. you want him with you, his strong arms holding you to his chest as you rest, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible.
you sigh defeatedly and put your phone down on your nightstand. just two days until you could see your partner again. you can hold onto that hope to keep you calm.
despite you trying to stay positive, you tossed and turned in your bed as you thought about kento’s safety. there was always a chance of him not coming home to you — always the possibility of that bed to be empty for the rest of your life.
all you could do was pray for his safety in your head whilst your eyes eventually closed from fatigue, your mind drifting off to a deep slumber.
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03:14AM. . . kento opens the door he had wished to have opened way earlier. the door that lead to the place where his heart lays; the person who claimed his heart and soul for eternity. you.
he didn’t think he’d actually do it. kento had originally planned to finish his last job as soon as possible and then get home afterwards, but there seemed to be a change in routine.
the special grade sorcerer simply assigned the mission to ino — the person whom he could trust most to finish the job in one piece. as much as kento dislikes to put his juniors in possible risky situations, there are also situations where it’s fine to depend on them. besides, the mission could easily be done by a grade one sorcerer.
kento sighs. the familiar scent of your home was one he could recognise from miles away. one that could calm his nerves instantly. it was that same distinctive scent you carry; thus why your lover sometimes calls you his home.
‘i can’t wait to be home’ ‘i want to be home’ ‘i’m going home’ — all these sentences, which kento has uttered before in earlier conversations, weren’t referring to a place. rather to a person he held dear.
“oh, my sweetheart.” the blonde man whispers under his breath as his eyes catch the shape of your figure under the blankets. he quietly enters the master bedroom and closes the door behind him, not making a sound as to not interrupt your well-deserved sleep.
kento slowly undoes his dotted tie, along with the upper buttons of his blouse. he probably needs to go take a good shower before he could settle down with you — but that’d risk waking you up.
you look extremely angelic in his eyes. especially with your left cheek squished by the soft pillow your head rests on. you never once fail to convince him that you are indeed the woman of his dreams; the woman kento ever had and will have eyes for. it’s like you get more attractive to him as the days go on.
“mh,” your sudden and soft groan makes him realise just how disturbing his behaviour could be interpreted as. kento’s body was hovering over your sleeping one and he was just. . . staring at you with a soft smile. a smile which he didn’t even notice had permanently found its place on his weary face.
kento sits down on the edge of the mattress, callused hand gently tucking you in properly, putting the blanket over your shoulders to make sure you didn’t get cold. he can’t rest if you’re not comfortable— even if he himself was exhausted to the point his eyes were starting to feel heavy.
yet that exhaustion doesn’t last long. it never does when kento’s able to see you again after a tiring week of countless missions and other jobs. your presence alone grants him the energy to stay awake and take care of you. and himself. you’re the reason he keeps it going.
“i love you so much, my beautiful girl — my angel.”
kento sure was a romantic. even when you’re unaware and asleep.
he couldn’t help it; the feeling stirring inside of him. the feeling of adoration and love for you. you are simply resting, yet kento felt an urge to kiss you all over, show you the unending love he has for you. but. . that’d probably be disturbing your peace. you are sleeping after all. he
not that that would stop kento.
your eyes flutter open due to a sudden presence hovering over you. your entire face and neck area was feeling ticklish, like someone was placing tens of kisses all over the skin.
strands of blonde hair is the first thing showing up in your blurry vision. kento’s face follows afterwards as his head tilts back up, the warmth against your jawline disappearing along with it —
“ah, i’m sorry.” a low and almost guilty chuckle tumbles out of his sore throat. the visible confusion on your face makes him let out another, “shh, shh, it’s just me, sweetheart.”
your arms flew around kento’s torso the second the realisation dawns upon you. your heart went from a slow pace to one that caused your entire body to warm up immediately; the adorable reaction and increase in heart rate not going unnoticed by your lover.
you wordlessly hug him — almost still in shock by the sudden appearance. kento doesn’t fight off your tight embrace, instead, welcomes it with open arms. the delicate kisses on your skin continue, each being placed with precision whilst one of his hands keeps your head tilted a little — rough fingers being a contrast of the gentle grip they had on your jaw.
“i missed you lots,” kento murmurs, eyes closed as he basks in the warmth of your body, his lips refusing to let go of your neck, “i couldn’t wait anymore. i couldn’t be separated from you any longer or i’d lose it.”
his gruff voice sounded even deeper than it usually would. maybe due to the overuse of it during his missions. the lone thought makes you pout — the thought of kento working super hard just to provide for you both.
“i missed you more, love.” you mumble, bottom lip trembling a little as kento’s hug triggers a whole lot of emotions in you. his hugs were special, his muscular arms giving you a sense of comfort you couldn’t find anywhere. no one could hug you like he did, “you did well. you did so well.”
those were all the words kento needed. his lips come to halt right above your collarbone, his breath a bit heavy from how much he's holding himself back from doing more. one hand moves from your cheek to your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt.
“thank you, dear.” kento says. his words carrying a load of unending affection. your simple words of appreciation and encouragement makes him shiver in delight. this is what he longed for; this is what he did it all for.
it was clear. the answer to his question - of why he had returned to the jujutsu world, to become a teacher at his former high school - it was all for you. to be able to be with you, see you and hold you like this. to have someone like you appreciate all of his efforts.
“may i?” kento asks through a quiet whisper as he gently removes the blanket covering your figure, his eyes darting down towards your cleavage. he's asking for permission to cross that barrier — to cover you in the love you deserve.
you just stare at the blonde man above you for a second. you watch as he climbs onto the bed with you; the bed which was once empty and dull, now suddenly becoming your favourite place to be at. your fingertips graze against kento's sharp cheekbones. a habit you always did when you were appreciating his looks.
“go right ahead.” you answer with a confirming nod.
both of you were touch starved and had been deprived from each other's embrace for way too long. now was the perfect time to make up for all the time lost.
kento wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip past him. he smiles at you, a gentle and handsome smile, whilst a few of his blonde locks fall over his left eye — his hands already prying away the blanket covering your shape. it was time to show you just how much he has longed for you.
“hold on to me, sweetheart. i’m not stopping until you realise just how much i’ve missed all of you.”
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coco-loco-nut · 15 days
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Mama
pairing: Pierre x reader
summary: Pierre and his annoyed, heavily pregnant, wife
TW: references to spicy activities, pregnancy, cussing, use of French learned via Duolingo and high-school French class from like 4 years ago
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“I regret ever letting your French ass charm me,” you scowl at your husband who picked you up at the train station in London. He had been away for a week, and initially you did miss your husband, but the pregnancy began to really wear on you this week.
“I missed your too, mamour,” Pierre kisses you, taking your bags and placing them in his rental car.
“I should’ve stayed home,” you grumble as he helps you into the car. You missed your French home, the villa was sunny and it wasn’t England, but you promised your sweet husband you would come to Silverstone. He came straight from
Pierre knows you are hurting, the third trimester taking a toll on you, so he doesn’t take any of your words to heart, instead he intends on showing you how much he loves you.
“I wish I were home too,” Pierre squeezes your hand gently once he is in the car. He has been hoping and praying that the baby comes during the summer break, just so he can spend time with you. You hadn’t been to a race since Imola and Monaco and you were able to hide the pregnancy pretty easily with flowy dresses. Despite being pregnant with twins, you didn’t balloon up until right after.
“What would Mrs. Glasly and the Baby Gasly’s like to do first, get to the hotel or get some food?” Pierre asks and you think about it for a second.
“Mmm food. Chicken nuggets and fries, preferably,” you give Pierre puppy dog eyes despite telling him you hated him moments ago.
“There is a McDonald’s in the next town over from Silverstone. I won’t tell if you don’t,” Pierre says, you swear in that moment that you fall in love with him all over again.
“I would never,” you gasp before yawning a little. At this point, you could take a nap anywhere, despite being extremely uncomfortable with the babies dropping. Some luck happened and your thirty-sixth week of pregnancy falls at the very start of summer break.
“Take a nap, chérie, we have about an hour and a half,” Pierre tells you as he pulls out of the parking lot, turning the music on softly. You don’t need to be told twice as you doze off. You don’t even wake up to Pierre ordering a ridiculous amount of food at McDonald’s, you only wake up when he gently shakes your shoulder.
“Mon ange, tu dois te lève,” Pierre says gently, coaxing you awake.
“Mm, mon bonhuer, feed me and take me to bed,” you say sleepily, a sly smile on your face.
“The things you do to me,” Pierre groans, getting out of the car. You carry the food into the hotel from the garage so his trainer can’t yell at him.
“Y/n! How are you doing?” Charles comes up beside you. He knew about the pregnancy, despite Pierre and you keeping it under wraps, only because the both of you attended dinner at the Leclerc’s house during the Monaco GP. It's only natural, you were Pierre's childhood best friend. Charles was Pierre's childhood best friend, you tolerated the both of them.
“How do you think,” you glare at the Monégasque.
“Maman asked me to give you this, and I added a little something too,” Charles says, handing Pierre a bag and kissing your cheek.
“Thank you, Charlot,” Pierre waves to his friend, guiding you to the hotel room.
“Pierre, this is so good,” you practically moan as you eat the nuggets.
“You gotta stop talking like that, you’re driving me nuts,” he groans. You grin, biting into a fry.
“Or what?” your tease, his eyes darken. As soon as you both finish your dinner, he is kissing you.
“Pierre!” you groan, he helps you stand up, moving towards the bed.
"Do you want to do this?" Pierre looks at you with concern.
"Pierre, I am not a glass doll, I am pregnant and horny and I miss your cuddles, and I haven't seen you in weeks. I think you know what I want," you look Pierre in the eyes who is quick to help you into a safe, yet comfortable position. It is safe to say that the two of you missed each other very, very much.
You woke up in the morning, a rare occurrence of sleeping through the night, to your husband's arm wrapped around you, holding you close to him.
"Pierre," you nudge him. He hums, only half awake. "If you don't let me go, I may puke on this bed," you whisper to him. Pierre quickly wakes up and helps you to the bathroom. He had to get up soon anyway for the race.
"You ok?" Pierre continues rubbing your back after you've puked.
"I look like shit, feel like shit, and you watched me puke, I think the answer is no," you groan, resting your head on his shoulder.
"Why don't we shower, then I'll order some breakfast while I get ready?" Pierre offers, helping you undress and get into the shower. Like the gentleman he is, he helps you clean where you can't reach anymore, and in return, you scrub the shampoo into his hair.
The two of you eat quickly and get ready for the day. You both get in a chauffeured car and head to the circuit, you left a little later than usual due to eating breakfast in the hotel instead of in the paddock. Cameras capture the two of you walking in, more like you waddling as Pierre walks with an arm around you. He heads into a strategy meeting while you rest on the couch in his room.
"Apparently social media is blowing up over pictures of us walking in. They may love pregnant you more than I do, and that is nearly impossible," Pierre tells you when he gets back, the F2 race playing quietly in the background.
"I'm glad someone is enjoying it, because I want them out," you groan as they kick you simultaneously. Pierre helps you stand up and wraps his arms around you, hands under your bump. You relax into his chest, letting him take some of the pressure off of your body for a little bit. His touch always seems to calm the babies down.
"I know, just another month, then we will have our precious babies. You are doing incredibly, you will be the best mom," he praises you causing you to blush.
"They will have the coolest daddy," you hum, enjoying the temporary relief.
"Pierre, you gotta do your warm-ups," his trainer knocks on the doorframe. "Y/n, I can help you with some stretches that may provide some relief and better mobility," the trainer offers as Pierre slowly lowers your stomach, trying to ease the weight back. You follow Pierre and his trainer to the weight room. The trainer mainly focuses on helping you, claiming Pierre knew what he was doing, only stepping away when a spotter was required. Apparently, his wife was recently pregnant so he did a lot of research to help her.
"Congratulations, Y/n, you and Pierre will make great parents," despite neither of you particularly caring for Esteban, you thanked him anyway and wished him a good race. Pierre took you on some light strolls across the paddock, frequently being stopped by drivers, before the race where you sat in the garage and watched with his team. Pierre got in the points and you both celebrated by going home to France and sleeping.
By the time summer break rolled around, the nursery was filled with gifts from drivers and teams. Charles was begging the both of you to either name one of your babies after him or name him godfather. He was pleased to learn he was going to be named godfather regardless. A few days into break, your babies decided it was time to meet the world.
"Pierre, car, now," you look at your husband from the passenger seat.
"Charles! I am panicking! Yes, I am getting in the car. Fine you, can talk to y/n while I drive," Pierre says, frazzled, as he drives away from your home, the back seat filled with what you might need, two car seats already installed.
"Hello Charles," you say into the phone, quite amused despite the contractions becoming more frequent.
"Hi y/n, are you ready to meet the two rascals who have been torturing you for months? You will get to be a mom to three babies, god knows Pierre needs his mom right now," Charles laughs, helping to distract you as Pierre flies down roads.
"Mhmm, I'm excited to know the genders if anything. Are you still coming out later this week?" You ask him, the conversation oddly calm.
"I'm getting my plane ready now, I have to be there to meet my godchildren," Charles informs you and you feel another contraction coming on.
"Great, I'll be sure to hold them in for you. I gotta go, see you soon," you laugh through the pain, quickly hanging up. Pierre cut off an impossible amount of time, granted you didn't live too far from the hospital. Pierre is more stressed than you are, it's cute.
After 6 hours of labor, you and Pierre have greeted the most beautiful babies, at least in your eyes. The love of your life has now expanded to include the little bundles.
"Congratulations," Charles says, the first to arrive since you and Pierre didn't live too close to your families.
"Meet your godchildren, Anthoine Romeo and Genevieve Charlie," you smile tiredly at Pierre, who helped you through your labor, even as you screamed some very nasty things at him.
"They are perfect," Charles looks at you, a little teary as he holds Genevieve, "thank you," he says softly.
"We named them after the two people who have always stood beside us," you say, Pierre fascinated by his son. You really were the luckiest woman alive.
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Poetry and Rum
Charles Leclerc x reader
Requested:
Hi! Are you taking requests? If yes, then can you do one with Charles where the reader is a staff for the FIA but isn't allowed to interact with any of the drivers because of some dumb FIA rule. So she starts to send him poem as a secret admirer,Charles starts to like her too. Maybe one day someone learns of his secret admirer and lies about it to get together with him. He later learns the truth about the secret admirer and confesses to her. Angst and fluff☺. Thank you 😊
Summary: A secret note you never intended to send finds it way into Charles hands.
Warnings: Drinking, language.
Word Count: 3670
Authors note: So I am so sorry this took so long to write, but I wanted to make sure I did it justice. I really hope I have done that, if I miss any warnings let me know, I hope you all enjoy and I cant wait to hear what you think 
_____
“You literally just got me this job and if you keep hanging around me you’re going to get me fired” you moved around Pierre, him only following closely behind.
“They can’t fire you, we’re best friends” Pierre tried to get you to stop and have an honest to god conversation with him.
“That’s exactly why they can fire me. Look, babe, I’m thankful and all, but you know the rules” this was a tedious conversation at this point, you’d been strictly briefed by your new boss that there was to be no fraternizing with the drivers, favouritism and all that, and Pierre was hell bent on breaking that rule.
“Not sure your lover boy would be too excited with you calling me babe” a laugh barking out of him as he watched your head swinging wildly, attempting to spot your long-standing crush, praying he was nowhere near the two of you, despite him and Pierre normally being joint at the hip.
“He’s not my lover boy and you know it” you whispered to Pierre, not caring if your bosses saw or not. Although you desperately wished he was.
“Oh, and the poem I saw in your room last night?” The poem. Fuck, he had seen the poem. The poem which you had written for Charles. The poem in which you poured your feelings out to him, the boy who you had fallen in love with over the course of your friendship. The love poem for the boy you were in love with. The poem which you were never going to ever give to him, you just needed to get your feelings out of you head, you know, to help you move on and all that. Although, it had probably only made the pining worse the more you thought about those green eyes that reminded you of the stillness in a forest and how that’s where you had felt most at home and how you loved the blush that settled over the tops of his cheeks and bridge of his nose when he got particularly shy and when he laughed at that really, really bad joke of yours and you watched as his hair fell into his face as he did so and you had to fight every part of you to stop yourself from reaching out to push it out the way and-
-when you woke up, you couldn’t find the poem.
And as if he could read your mind, the widest smile spread over his face, “Don’t worry, I already slid it under his door for you”.
Panic. This was panic. This may also be your need to throw up maybe. Were you going to throw up? You couldn’t throw up at work. Pierre had taken your very secret note poem thingy and given it to Charles.
“Pierre, please tell me you are joking” your job be damned, you were about to have an entire screaming match with your ex best friend, right here, right now, in this paddock.
“Well, it was addressed to him? And we all know you’re too chicken shit scared to actually tell him how you feel, yeah don’t think I missed the fact that you didn’t sign it, so I did what you wouldn’t and sent it for you” this was it, you were going to die and you were going to get fired. You were going to die and get fired right here and now.
“Pierre, you know I’m not allowed to interact with any of you now that I’m working for FI-Goddamn-A! They are barely happy with me being friends with you! Imagine me and Charles ended up-“ you stopped yourself before you could say anymore, before you could embarrass yourself anymore today.
“Ended up what?” the sharp look you sent him did little to quell the onslaught of teasing he was about to rain down on you, “No, I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what, because Lord knows I have been trying to set you two up forever and if it’s only your job at the FIA, that I got you by the way, that’s stopping this literal match made in heaven, well then, I’ll get you fired just as quickly sweetheart”
“So, three things, one, don’t be a dick and get me fired, that’s just, shitty,” the shrug from Pierre showed he truly did not care, “secondly, all of this would imply that Charles felt the same about me as I did him, and before we get all excited, let’s not pretend this is news to either of us, we all know how I feel, and before you even try to interrupt, Pierre, stop, before you try to interrupt and tell me he does feel the same about me, well, the literal models hanging off of him and his complete lack of any attempt to even try and make a move is pretty indicative of the fact that he does not, so that’s that.” There was no use for Pierre to even attempt to fight you on this right now, instead hoping to change your mind this evening over a few drinks, “and thirdly, what’s with the American accent?”  
“I was just hanging around Daniel and you know how excited he gets about the Austin race so the accent is coming out more and more” Pierre was only the first victim of this, no doubt the entire grid would be inflicted with it at some point, “but really, Charles does feel the sa-“
“I’m done Pierre, fuck off and let me work, I’ll see you afterwards for drinks” you hadn’t even offered Pierre the opportunity to speak before you were walking away, needing to get away so you could finally have a moment to freak out over the fact that Pierre had given the love poem to the boy you love.
_____
“Pierre, I swear, I know it sounds insane, but like, you know that love letter I got before the Austin Grand Prix? Y/n, I got a love letter before the Grand Prix and now we’re here, but anyway, yeah, no, so I am pretty much obsessed with her because like, I don’t know, I don’t understand why, but I just instantly felt like, this was my girl right? This is the girl I am meant to be with, because the stuff that was in the note, like, she just knew me right, and I obviously asked everyone who it was and fucking no one knew but then she told me who she was!” it may have taken forever, but he had found her. He had finally found her and he was determined to make her his.
Pierre shot his head towards you, wide eyed, genuinely surprised that you had confessed to Charles, but that surprised turned to confusion when despite your eyes never leaving the ground, you ever so subtly shook your head, letting him know that no, it wasn’t you.
“Wait, then, no wait, I’m confused, then who was it?” Pierre’s head swung wildly between the two of you, because if it wasn’t you, then it wasn’t the girl Charles was thinking of and someone was lying to him.
‘So, you know Lando’s one friend, Jade?” Charles had never even shown any interest in her before, even going as far as to avoid her in the paddock before, but now, he looked like he was sure she was the sun.
“No, no, it wasn’t-“
“Pierre! I have to go, walk me out?” You were already standing up by the time he could even look at you, your head tilting towards the door, urging him on, “Bye Charles”, and with that, you walked out too quickly, completely miss the dejected look in Charles eyes as he watched you leave, Pierre shooting him a sorry as he ran after you, Charles assuming both boys were confused by your sudden departure, but in truth, it was just him that was entirely and completely out of the loop.
“Do not tell him!” You hadn’t even given Pierre the opportunity to get a word out first before you were frantically whispering the instructions at him.
“But it isn’t Jade! Why would I not correct him? He doesn’t like her! He is in love with you! This is deceitful!” Pierre was running out of options, and he was fully prepared to out this big ugly secret if he needed to, your feelings be damned at this point, because now Charles was getting hurt, you were getting hurt, this was, all, just everyone was about to get hurt.
“He’s happy Pierre, he’s happy with her. You heard him in there, he had found his girl and he was happy with that being Jade, so just let him be happy, please” Pierre couldn’t miss the crack in your voice, the tell-tale sign of oncoming tears.
“Yeah, yeah, okay, I promise, just, please don’t cry, you know I can’t handle when you cry” and true to his word, he began freaking out and the classic weird head hold that he always inevitably did whenever he thought there may even be a hint of a tear in your eye, and there come the head pats.
“So, I’m going to go and you’re going to go back in there and be happy for our friend okay? And please don’t tell him, please, Pierre” you both knew the pleading was for him to let you go cry, for you to save your shame and experience the full onslaught of your broken heart alone, safe to cry in the ugliest manner physically possible without Pierre having to suffer through the sobs.
You both knew he would in a heartbeat if he asked.
“I promise” with a kiss planted gentle on your temple, he let you run, from everything.
From Charles and the stupid poem he stole and sent on your behalf.
From a stupid stupid Pierre.
____
“Charles!” Pierre stood to greet his friend, “annnnnd Jaaaaddddeeeee, Jades here” an incredulous look was shot Charles way over his new girlfriends’ shoulder, a subtle yet silent ‘why is Jade here?’ thrown along with it.
An equally as silent ‘she’s my girlfriend’ with a non-committed shrug to go along with it came from Charles, before leading you both into the booth, Pierre sat opposite them both.
“So Jade, how’s things with Charles?” Pierre knows he made some promises over the last little while, promises he thought would keep the peace and make everyone happy, the problem though is that no one happy.
Not you, because since Charles has started dating Jade, who lied about who sent the poem, he has had absolutely no time for anyone else and even when he did, he was fucking insufferable because Jade was always there, and when she’s around, he is in the worst mood anyone has ever seen him in, which makes you unhappy.
Charles is unhappy because you are, and because he’s dating Jade. The same Jade who has made him insufferable. Because she is the worst. Especially when he is still madly in love with you.
And lastly Pierre is unhappy, because he is having to deal with all of it. He is having to deal with you refusing to tell the truth because you think Charles is happy (and your job, but he had a plan for that) and he has to deal with you distancing yourself because of Charles and Jade and he is having to deal with a terrible Charles who won’t leave Jade because he thinks this is the girl for him and Charles is actually really in love with you but won’t approach you because you’re avoiding all of them and he misses you and he has to deal with Charles and Jade. And Pierre has to deal with Jade.
“- and so yeah, I’m just really glad you ended up getting my note my love” Pierre was suddenly pulled from his thoughts to witness what might have been the most awkward kiss he had ever seen and in that moment, he felt the most justified anger at this girl sitting in front of him, kissing his friend, who should be kissing his other friend.
“But you didn’t send it though?” Pierre knew he fucked up the second he’d said it, and truthfully, there were going to be a million moments where he could backtrack and make it okay, but he was unhappy, and so were all of you, so Godspeed to him.
“What are you talking about?” Charles looked between his girlfriend and Pierre, trying to work out exactly what his friend had meant.
“Yes, Pierre, what are you talking about” Jade didn’t even attempt to hide the venom in her voice as she repeated the question, eyes shooting daggers into his own.
“The poem, you didn’t send it” Pierre took a sip of his drink, surprised at his own nonchalance at the situation, considering he was about to ruin, well, everything.
“Of course I sent it, obviously” the venom was still dripping, the daggers only sharper.
“So, quote it, because I can, because I have seen it, because I was the one who put it under his door” Pierre didn’t miss how both their eyes swung to him, mouths gaping, a light blush coating Charles face.
“You sent it?” Charles stuttered out, desperately hoping he had misheard and wasn’t going to have to turn his best friend down the day he had decided to come out to him.
“Yes, I did send it and Jade lied” Pierre had not entirely caught onto what he had insinuated, and even if he had, he was willing to go with it provided it got Jade away, whatever it took at this point.
“You lied?” Charles had suddenly turned all of his attention to Jade, they could celebrate Pierre coming out in a moment, this needed to be dealt with immediately.
“I would never lie to you baby” Jade was cupping his face, trying to get Charles to believe her, convinced he would never believe it was Pierre who was the original owner of the note.
“So, quote it” Charles didn’t miss the smug look on Pierre’s face at the demand, nor did he miss how Jade floundered in front of him looking for a response, “I think you should leave round about now.”
“Charles, you can’t be serious right now” despite sounding like she as insisting on staying, she still began packing her back and grabbing her coat over the back of her chair.
“Can’t date a liar babe” he hated that he was trying to hold back his own laughter as he saw Pierre chuckling in his peripheral.
“Yeah well, you have a small dick” and with that she was storming out of the restaurant with a jovial “Bye Jade” from Pierre behind her as she left.
“Jesus fucking Christ I am so glad she’s gone” Charles dropped his head to his hands, wiping them down his face at the relief and freedom he was suddenly experiencing
“How the fuck were you dating her?” another chuckle at the groan that Pierre can only assume came from the very depths of Charles soul.
 “Yeah, shut the fuck up” he threw the crumpled-up mint leaf from his drink at Pierre, buying time before he had to bring up the inevitable, “so you sent the note?”
“Yeah, of course I did, who else was going to get it into your drivers’ room?” Pierre laughed into his drink, mentally patting himself on the back for how slick he had been through all of this.
Fuck, Pierre had sent him the note. Step by step Charles. You got to let him know you accept him, that you love him. No matter what, that you’re still best friends, but you are unfortunately straight.
“Okay, well, firstly, I see you and I am really proud that you feel safe enough to come out to me, I will always accept you and this will always be a safe space for you and-“
“No! Jesus! The note isn’t from me! I just sent the note!” it might have taken a moment for Pierre to click but he was very quick to remedy the situation, “and no offense, I love that you’re so chill and accepting, but Lewis and Danny are on that grid, and you think I’d go after you? I’m not even sure you’re the first person in Ferrari I’d pick.”
“What do you mean you wouldn’t pick me? Have you seen me?” Charles wasn’t entire sure why this is what got him, but it did, he was a little touched by this, because if he had to pick anyone, yeah, maybe it actually would have been Lewis or Danny, maybe Pierre was onto something.
“Mate, if it were only out of us two, I’m still not entirely sure you’d be my first pick” Pierre signalled to the waiter for a bottle of wine to go and the bill, all whilst Charles processed through the information he had been handed.
“You’re a dick”
“And apparently you have a little one” Pierre barked out a laugh at the drop in Charles expression, “get up, we’re getting drunk at Y/n” and if Pierre needed any confirmation that he had done the right thing, it was the smile that spread over Charles face at the mention of you.
_____
“You know it’s like 11pm right?” you swung your door open inviting the two slightly drunk boys in anyway, heart clenching as Charles brushed his hand against your own as he walked past, “no Jade tonight?” you needed to remind yourself that she was still in the picture, needed to temper the ever-latent feelings that would always exist for him.
“They broke up!” you tried to shush the shouting that came out of Pierre whilst simultaneously trying to absorbed this newly found information.
“Broke up? Charles I’m so sorry, what happened?” Charles had already grabbed some glasses and was heading out to your balcony to make himself comfortable and continue drinking.
“We went for drinks with Jade, I told them Jade didn’t send it, Charles thought I was gay and now he is simultaneously angry at me for not choosing him to date if I was into guys and for not being willing to tell him who the note ss actually from” the play by play came from Pierre who was already lying face down on your couch, voice muffled by the pillows that were shielding his face.
“Ah” it was all you could get out, both thoroughly confused and weirdly understanding everything all at once, ruffling Pierre’s hair as you walked to join Charles outside.  
“And now while Pierre sleeps this off, you and I are going to get drunk and catch up” he lifted the bottle of rum he had taken out your cupboard, disappointed that he and Pierre had already finished all the wine on their walk over.
“I really am sorry about Jade though, for real, I know how badly you wanted your person” that’s what you wanted to say but you were too chicken shit scared to tell him the truth, in case he was disappointed by who really sent the note.
“Its okay, it felt wrong with her anyway, I always assumed I would know my person, you know?” Kind of like how I know you, is what he wanted to say, but how could he tell his best friends’ best friend that he loved her.
“There’s this really great quote that I know, it’s from The Song of Achilles, it goes, ‘I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world’, and I just assumed that’s what it’s like, you know, with your person” It’s how I know you, it’s what you wanted to add, bout you couldn’t, the tightness in your throat refusing to allow it.
You missed the sharp intake of breathe from Charles next to you as he realized, he knew that quote already, memorized it, because it was in that note of his, the one Pierre delivered and refused to tell him who actually sent it.  
“Yeah, actually I know it, well, someone wrote it in a love note for me, thought it was some other girl, then thought it was my best friend, but now, I think I might know who actually sent it.” He caught your eyes with his own over the rim of his glass, not missing how calm he felt in this moment
How had Charles just called you out completely, yet you felt entirely calm with him knowing exactly how you felt, like, something just felt right.
“Oh, you do now? And are you happy about who it could be?” it was a shot in the dark, and you knew you weren’t being as direct as you should be, but fear was fear and this was the best you could do when asking him if you could ever be good enough for him, if he could ever love you back.
The silence felt like it had stretched on forever, you assuming it was. So Charles could figure out how to let you down gently, in reality, he was trying to figure out exactly what to say to the woman he has loved for so long, the woman who made him jealous of Pierre simply because of the Friendship she had with him, the woman he had just found loved him back. He needed to find the exact words for how utterly devoted he was to her and her only, and when he finally had,
“So happy, that I am entirely prepared to spend the rest of this evening trying to convince her to go down to the courthouse with me tomorrow morning, to spend the rest of her life with me so I can know her in death, at the end of the world”.
_____
Taglist:
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dokidokitsuna · 2 months
Text
...I just remembered I wanted to make my own statement on the AI thing. ^^;
So you've probably heard, but in case you haven't: Tumblr just sold out everyone's data to the AI trash compactors, they probably did it long before they gave us the option to opt out, and even if you do opt out they're probably still taking and using your work anyway (telling people to opt out instead of actually asking for their permission is already scummy business practice, but when it comes to AI it's functionally meaningless. :/ It's always "well, we're telling them not to use these people's data and we're hoping they'll be nice and go along with it" with no regulations or consequences if they decide to just steal everything indiscriminately...)
Despite that, I am not leaving Tumblr anytime soon. I'm looking into other sites*, but at this moment in time, I have nowhere else to go. ^^; Besides, I still like it here. When I left DeviantArt I was already getting sick of the place, having my art stolen regularly by "fans" and paradoxically getting less and less interest in my work over time. By the time the devs turned the website into eye-blinding slop with Eclipse, I was more than ready to move on.
But I still enjoy using Tumblr. I like writing long text posts that no one would bother to read anywhere else, I like answering asks, and I like the unique sense of humor and style among the users here. ^^ It would take a lot to force me out.
Also, I can take a little solace in the fact that AI-bros do not value "low-quality" art like mine. ^^; If messy cel-shaded sketches with visible pixels ever become popular, then I'll worry, but for now I think it's highly unlikely that anyone will want to wholesale regurgitate my art. If anything, I think prioritizing it in their datasets would only make them worse...and on that note, if you do have "high quality" detailed/painterly/semi-realistic art that would be targeted, I'd recommend 'poisoning' it with Nightshade/Glaze. Although I heard a rumor a while back that AI is "building immunity" to Nightshade and already learning to work around it, but I'm really hoping that was just a wishful lie from the trash compactors themselves. I haven't heard it repeated since then, so I think it's still worth a shot. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
So anyway, like the post I reblogged said, I think the best thing we can do now is to make it clear that WE DON'T WANT AI ART. We don't care how easy it'll be to instantly generate thousands of hours of mindless 'content' to look at; we don't want it. Since regulation is lagging so far behind (wanna know why Disney's copyright hounds didn't shut this down on sight? Most likely, they're hoping to profit from it down the line) the only way to fight this right now is with individual litigation and consumer demand.
Don't support projects made with AI**; don't hate-watch them or spotlight them. Focus your energy on the millions of human artists who are still here, and need your support now more than ever.
*I've heard people mention moving to Twitter and/or Artstation: fam, you're jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. ^^;;; IIRC, Arstation was one of the FIRST art sites to start flirting with AI, and Twitter has been selling off its users' data for several months already. Go there if you must, but don't go under the impression that it's "safer".
**Please keep a cool head when discussing AI art, and keep in mind that it used to mean something other than "mass theft". Artists have and still do create AI tools that are built on limited data sets with permission/compensation, that are used to aid them in their work and encourage human artistry (Vocaloids and DAW's, for instance) rather than stamp it out. Until a specific word evolves into popular use for exploitative AI, we're kinda stuck with this confusion, so remember to get the facts before you speak out.
P.S. Praying every night that this is a dumb fad that will soon die and go to the same hell as NFTs. >_< Praying every morning that the influx of AI art into its own datasets will eventually corrupt itself and make it useless. >_< >_< Praying every afternoon for both at once! >_< >_< >_< Like to charge, reblog to cast, all that
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herotome · 5 months
Text
Devlog #123
Hi-ho, Wudge here.
So... it's out! If you somehow haven't heard despite my modest-yet-incessant marketing efforts, Herotome's Super Demo is now out on itch.io!
People seem to really enjoy the game. My notifications are blowing up. Everything seems to be going really well - it's all coming up Wudge, one might say!
Which means it's time to talk about 𝓜𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓘𝓵𝓵𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼.~
Y'all weren't expecting that one, were ya? Boom, baby! Haha!!!
So, let me know if this sounds familiar: I spend most of my waking moments worrying that something bad is going to happen. I'm perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop. (Thank you to @hummingbird-games for reminding me that idiom exists, and taking it in good humor when I excitedly babbled that "YES! It's like there's this giant centipede with shoes in my ceiling and I'm convinced I hear him walking around and someday, someday he's gonna throw all his shoes at me like that one guy did to George Bush--!"
...I'm worried that someone is going to find a reason to be rightfully angry with me. I'm worried that, through the mortifying ordeal of being known, I will be punished with the harrowing gauntlet of rejection and misery. I worry that, any day now, I'm going to get a random half-thought-out message that obliterates my heart into smithereens and kills me on the spot. I am a sea slug, cautiously edging a tendril into the light and praying not to be noticed by the eldritch fish above that will devour me in a single gulp.
I find myself flinching even when there isn't a blow coming.
Putting out a piece of yourself for the public to consume is really fucking terrifying. I did it anyway, which is cool of me, but I want to make it known that there is not eternal bliss and satisfaction and rose petals on the other side. Is this better than my cave of solitude and darkness I emerged from? I think so. But I'm still perpetually scared, as Toby Fox might once have described it, "like a small dog startled by a thunder storm."
I'm still really tired, too.
I don't write this to complain; I'm conscious that some people are now looking up to me and the way I do things, and I want to be transparent. I don't want anyone to think I'm perfect or have always been perfect and will always be perfect, or that I've ~found happiness~.
I'm not. I have never been. I will never be. I haven't.
But I'm okay, at least. I'm okay and I'll be okay, and I'm grateful to you all. Every single one of you. Thank you for not submitting me to the harrowing gauntlet of rejection and misery…yet.  :^)
Alright what's the takeaway here. Uhm.
Be yourself! Follow your dreams! Never give up!!!
That's sincerely what I'm trying to do. It's a challenge every single day; I have to choose Herotome every single day (something something married to my own game blah blah blah). It is worth it. And I believe in you - assuming you're not a cannibal or a murder or, worst of all, a plagiarist (gasp!) or anything else terrible and bad - I believe in you. (… But honestly, I'd believe in you if you were a bad person too, I'd believe in you to continue to do bad things but I'd hope that you'll stop and turn yourself in to the proper authorities lmao…)
… I went on a weird tangent again…
I don’t know if any of this is making sense. Maybe it will be insightful to someone out there, maybe it won't.
I uh, did some writing for the next part of the game, and I plan on working on some character expressions today in honor of my Ko-Fi donators.
Oh, and there's gonna be a stream on Wednesday 10pm Pacific. I'll be there! Come say hi and please don't squish me!
… Yeah that's all I can think of writing for now. I absolutely wish you all the best with every speck of love I have in my current flesh prison.
Tata for now. Stay safe and keep warm,
Wudge.
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rynnthefangirl · 3 months
Text
My Top 10 Favorite Breaking Bad Universe Characters
1. Howard Hamlin - this one is kinda silly bc he is much less developed than other characters, but I can’t help it. His tragedy hits so hard, it took a character whom I didn’t really care about and made him my absolute #1 fave. Rest in peace Howard you deserved better🥺💔
2. Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman - Gilligould really took a look at their whacky comic relief lawyer in Breaking Bad, and said “hmm, what if we made him the absolute most complex and fascinating character in our entire fictional universe”. And then they did.🙌
3. Jesse Pinkman - God his story hurts. He had one of the best hearts in the whole show, yet he suffered more than ANY other character. His character goes from loveably silly to absolutely heart shattering. I hope he found some peace in Alaska.❤️
4. Walter White - I just can’t help but love this horrible horrible man. He’s goofy and ridiculous, but also insane and egotistical in the most entertaining way. What a great protagonist, he’s compelling when I am rooting for him and compelling when I am praying for his downfall.
5. Chuck McGill - IMO, the best antagonist in the whole BrBa universe. The Jimmy vs Chuck storyline was TOP TIER, Chicanery was a masterpiece of an episode, Lantern and Winner are just dripping with tragedy and sorrow and what-if's. And it's all because of Chuck. Rip Chuck, you may have been a prick but damn if you didn’t make this show the brilliant piece of television that it was.
6. Kim Wexler - no character gives me more mixed feelings than Kim. I always liked her in the early seasons, then I despised her in s6a, then my heart broke for her in s6b, and now I retroactively have so much more love and sorrow for her earlier self because there was so much good there and she could have been so much better and GOD Kim is such a tragic, amazing, well written character.
7. Skyler White - oh my god, my poor wife. You deserved so much better than what the audience gave you all those years. You were a queen, and so right about everything, and I am so sorry I didn’t see it before but now I will defend you until my dying day❤️❤️❤️
8. Lalo Salamanca - he’s just so insane and silly and entertaining. He steals every scene he’s in, and in my opinion added some desperately needed charm and charisma to the cartel side of the show. Legit was rooting for him against Gus, even though he killed my boy Howie and I knew he was doomed to fail.
8. Nacho Varga - Like Jesse, he went through so much despite having one of the most decent hearts on the show, and it all culminated in such a tragic yet powerful death scene. And I love love love the idea of the curse of Nacho Varga dooming Gus, the Salamancas, and the Cartel for their sins. His ghost looms over Breaking Bad, and makes both shows much richer as a result.
9. Cheryl Hamlin - she fascinates me, we see very little of her and yet I loved her scenes and want to know more. I'll also not tolerate Cheryl slander, we don't know what was going on in her and Howard’s marriage, and in the end she stood up for him when nobody else did.
10. Mike Ehrmantraut - to be honest, I'm not the biggest Mike fan. Not because there is anything wrong with his character per se, but I find it a bit annoying how the fandom idolizes him as a loveable grandpa/moral criminal when he actually is kind of horrible and not all that different from Walter. That being said, I do love what they were going for in BCS, showing his slow corruption as he keeps going back into the world of crime to avoid dealing with his grief for his son's death, culminating in that amazing scene where the show calls him on his hypocrisy and Manual Varga tells him 'you gangsters and your justice, you are all the same'. I just wish it was explored more explicitly in the narrative and fandom the way that Walt and Jimmy's moral corruptions are.
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bumblesimagines · 5 months
Note
do you want to hear what really happened?
you already missed your chance.
i've loved you since the day we met.
Mencia Blanco
do you want to hear what really happened?
you already missed your chance.
i've loved you since the day we met.
pronouns: they/them, gender neutral
Tumblr media
You had hoped that after a couple minutes of being ignored, whoever had continuously rang your doorbell would've gotten the hint. You kept your face buried into the silky pillow, praying and hoping whichever asshole standing at your door left soon. But when another three minutes passed and the doorbell continued ringing throughout the house, you groaned and rolled out of bed, taking a glance at the clock on your nightstand that read 3:00 AM in bright neon green. 
"Are you serious?" You hissed quietly into the dark room, snatching your phone off the nightstand and turning it on. No new messages from any of your friends bold enough to try awakening you at such an ungodly hour. Unless one of their phones had died, you couldn't fathom who else would show up at your door with a persistent attitude. 
On second thought, you knew exactly who. And it just so happened her number had been blocked for nearly two months. You automatically took in a deep breath at just the mere thought of your trainwreck of an ex. Pretty little Mencia Blanco, daughter of the insufferable principal and sister to the equally insufferable twins. The start of a headache began licking at your temple and you groaned, pushing yourself forward and flickering the light on. 
Making your way through the hall and down the stairs, you found yourself relieved your parents had gone away on a trip. Otherwise, it'd be hell to explain why a strange girl they barely knew was at their doorstep like a stray begging to be let in. You could only imagine what your mother would say as you neared the front door and unlocked it, tossing it open and confirming your assumptions. 
Mencia stood before you with a duffle bag secured in her hand. Her dark makeup smudged around her eyes and her lips had been twisted into an exhausted pout. Tear streaks stained her cheeks and you could already hear the explanation she'd give you. Another fight with Benjamin or another spat with her siblings, likely both. Always the same repetitive tale that she never seemed to escape despite her numerous attempts. She stared at you, big brown eyes filled with longing and sadness, and took a small step forward. 
"Can we talk?"
"About?" It was too damn early for this.
"Us." She answered simply and softly, her brows lowering and light red-tinted lips rubbing together. You stared at her and debated turning her away or calling one of her siblings. But Mencia would only resume her assault on the doorbell and you doubted either one of the twins would even pick up your call. You exhaled through your nose and tilted your body to allow her inside. She smiled and headed in, resting her duffle bag beside the couch and taking a peek at the living room she'd only briefly seen once. 
"You couldn't have chosen a better time to run away?" You asked, closing the door and turning the clock. Mencia laughed lightly and rubbed at her cheek, trying to clean away the subtle black lines from the wet mascara. She hadn't changed in the slightest since the breakup. She still remained the chaotic hot mess who silently wished to be taken seriously. Then again, none of the Blanco family were put together. Benjamin appeared more like a boss than a father, even when he put on his best fatherly act. The poised Ari seemed one shot away from a mental breakdown and often acted like a mother rather than a sister. And the attention-seeking Patrick only knew how to self-destruct and bring everyone down with him. They'd been entertaining to watch from a distance until you got sucked into their drama.
"I would've gone to a hotel but..." She trailed off and toyed with one of her rings, strands of chestnut brown hair sweeping over her face as she peered down at her boots. "Benjamin locked me out of my cards."
"Rebeka lives up the street. Go stay with her, or did you fuck that up too?" The bitter words slipped out faster than you could process them. Mencia winced and sighed, her arms and shoulders slumping. She made no move to deny it and you took in another deep breath, trying to keep the tired annoyance from slipping out again. 
"I do want to talk about us... about what happened. I... I hurt you, I know that. But, I've loved you since the day we met. I fell in love when you stood up to Benjamin, I fell for you more when I saw how you treated your friends like they were family. I loved you when you agreed to a date and I still love you. I fucked up. I... I let what Patrick said about me that night get to me and- and I believed him when he said you'd leave me-"
"I doubt Patrick told you to cheat on me with Rebeka." You sighed. "You already missed your chance, Mencia. You had two months to grow some balls and talk to me at school but you chose to act as if I didn't exist. Rebeka herself apologized for what happened and yet, the actual chick that fucked up couldn't." 
"I was planning on it at the drive-in last week but you disappeared! I went to your car but you weren't there and Cayetana had no idea where you'd gone." Mencia's voice grew louder and she grunted softly, lifting her hands to her face and massaging her temples. You stared at her, unable to shove away the memory of what had occurred at the drive-in. It almost amused you, in fact. 
"Do you want to hear what really happened at the drive-in?" You couldn't help but ask, and she dropped her arms to her sides. She nodded limply, completely and uttering unaware of the words about to tumble right out of your mouth. "I got into an argument with Samuel and Isadora made an offer 'cause she was pissed at Phillipe. We hooked up in her limo and then again at her place. That's why you couldn't find me and that's why I'm not giving you a second chance, Mencia. Even if she's a bitch and believes Phillipe's innocent... I think I'm starting to like her."
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aylish91 · 6 months
Note
I really like Sea of Hope so far! Fics with a skeleton mc aren't too common from what I've seen.
First time asking this sort of thing but I saw you were taking writing requests, so I thought it couldn't hurt to ask lol.
Any chance you could write a Piratetale Fell!Papyrus meeting a female reader, preferably she's human and doesn't have experience traveling the sea even though she's always wanted too? You can make him as tsundere as you want.
Love your work, keep it up! :D
Hehe. Pirate Fell Paps... ao3 link in title.
TW: *very brief* physical violence and attempted manipulation from supposed partner (Not Paps!)
I Will Sail!!!
You had made it. You reached the Crow’s Nest tavern before the search party could catch up to you, finding yourself walking toward a rather tall Monster lounging off in the back corner. Your chest was ablaze. Finally, after all this time of longing! And yet, you prayed you had made the right decision.
There was no going back.
You ignored the calls and looks sent your way as you made your way through the tables, hoping beyond hope this was the man you were looking for. Then, once there, you gave a shaky bow of your head. There was no time for pleasantries.
“Apologies for interrupting your evening Sir, but do I have the honor of addressing the master of the Burning Rose?”
Red glowing orbs looked up from beneath an intricate tricorn hat. Though the man in front of you was mostly obscured by darkness, his fine dress and stature led you to believe he was indeed the one you were looking for. Steeling yourself, you pressed on to meet the gaze. The orbs obscured and dimmed as if squinting before shifting up, head tilting back enough to reveal the face they belonged to.
A wave of relief overtook you.
A lithe skull greeted you with that of a sharp-toothed scowl. You had been right in your assumption. He was, in fact, the captain of the Burning Rose. Papyrus R.T. Ghaster, a skeleton Monster intimidating and strong enough to navigate the mostly human merchant trade within the Ebottion Sea. Or at least, what little information your father had on the newcomer surmised. A merchant willing to travel great distances to retrieve that which any desired. The only man you had heard of that actively employed women.
Someone who could grant you a way to the seas…
Fiddling with the sleeves of your dress, you did your best to tune out the noise and rowdy nature of such a tavern after dark. Waiting.
The captain stirred from his relaxed lounge, taking a drink from his tankard before cocking his head to the side. “PERHAPS. THAT IS THE NAME OF ME SHIP.”
You took a deep breath and nodded. You had to hurry. You reckoned there wasn’t much time left.
“Very good. My name is Y/N, L/N. I am aware that you have women in your employ. As it is, I would like to request—”
“NO.”
You were a bit taken aback. He hadn’t let you finish. “But Sir, you haven’t—”
“I DON’T NEED TO HEAR TO KNOW WHAT IT IS YOU WISH, LASS. THE ANSWER IS STILL NO.” He looked away from you, uninterested as he took another draught from his drink. There were chuckles from a few others at tables close enough to hear.
You bristled. “But why!? I assure you, Sir, that despite my disposition, I would work just as hard as any man and am more than willing to learn how to do anything you might need of me.”
There was a scoff. “THAT WOULD MAKE NO DIFFERENCE. YOU WOULDN’T MAKE IT PASSED A WEEK, THAT I ASSURE YOU. YOU ARE TOO SOFT FOR WHAT WE DO. YOU KNOW NOTHING OF THE GOINGS ON OF A PROPER SHIP, LET ALONE MINE.”
He was looking down on you, you could tell. Just like all the others. You couldn’t let that sway you. You could prove your worth. You just needed to convince him of that. You stepped back into his line of sight, letting all your pent-up anger from the unfairness of it all show.
You were determined.
“I can do it! I will do it! Even if I am placed as nothing more than a cabin boy, I would make it my undying goal to prove you wrong. I wish to sail captain. The sea calls to me! Surely you can at least understand that. Please, I am running out of time…”
A lot of the voices had quieted at your rant, mumbled words you couldn’t hear rumbling around you. The captain, to his credit, kept his cool. The only thing letting you know that he was even contemplating your word was the brightening of his eyelights as he stared seemingly through you.
Just as he finally leaned forward to say something, however, the door to the tavern burst open with an assortment of guards and young nobles. To your horror, you recognized most of them, your fiancé the one taking the lead.
He was quick to spot you, moving with purpose through the tavern towards you.
“Y/n! I insist you desist this unbecoming behavior at once! Your father has sent me to fetch you. Do not disappoint him any more than you already have.”
You couldn’t move. You thought you had more time. You thought you had more time!
The men were already halfway to you before you could force yourself to think, looking around for anything that could help you avoid what was surely to come. But you were stuck. Barring starting a fire with one of the lanterns or attempting to break a window, there was nowhere you could run they couldn’t catch you. All you could do was put an empty table between you. 
Your fiancé was not impressed.
“Really Y/N. We’ve gone through this. What would your mother think should she still be alive?”
You shook with unbridled anger and apprehension at being caught, still not wanting to submit. “She would have agreed with me! If she were still alive, none of this would have been allowed to happen! You are a scourge upon my life! I refuse to entertain the notion any longer of your and my marriage! I will suffer no longer under the expectations of my father!”
He was around the table gripping your arm before you could move, his fingers gripping hard enough to bruise as you fought to wretch it free. Your stomach clenched uneasily with the venom with which he spat.
“You will do whatever you are told! As your fiancé, I will not tolerate you tarnishing my name by whoring yourself out to some strangers of the night!”
Something inside of you cracked at such an accusation. It was wrong and hurtful, nothing more than a jab at your reputation for daring to go against him. It hurt even more knowing this was the man your father had forced upon you.
You didn’t think about your next actions when you were finally able to pull free, simply moved how your soul so desperately wanted you to. With the balling of your fist, you brought it back just like your older brother had once taught you.
The look of shock on your fiancé’s face would have been satisfying had it not been so fleeting. Where you had managed to turn his cheek, the backhand he threw back was hard enough to knock you to the ground.
Through the pain and determination to not show just how much he had hurt you, you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps pass or the crash of a body hitting the floor. Back on your feet, watery-eyed and red-faced, you were shocked to see the back of the captain, rubbing the knuckles of a gloved fist.
Your attacker was splayed on the wood floor.
“YOU WOULD DARE BRING HARM TO THE ONE YOU ARE BETROTHED? HOW PATHETIC. YOU DESERVE NOTHING MORE THAN TO HAVE THEM TAKEN FROM YOU.”
The guards were quick to step forward as the other nobles helped your fiancé regain his bearings. By the look of it, having a hard time.
“Stay out of this Monster. This matter doesn’t concern you. Should you continue to intervene in the retrieval of this girl, we will be forced to apprehend you.”
You couldn’t believe this was happening. Riling yourself to snap back, the captain beat you to it with a booming gravelly laugh. 
“ON THE CONTRARY, GENTLEMAN. I BEG YOU, TRY.”
Everyone in the room was now at attention, the guards taking such offense at the notion that they predictably charged forward to make good on their threat. You were enchanted by the way the captain's eyelights seemed to glow and flash with that of hellfire, more cackling laughter filling the room.
“ALL HANDS! MAKE YOUR CAPTAIN PROUD!”
With that simple phrase, it was as if the tavern itself was on the verge of collapse; the sheer amount of hollering cheers, clashing of fists, and weapons shaking its very foundations. Broken glass and toppled drinks littered the floor as tables and chairs were used in the ensuing fight. For a while you could only watch, awed by how quickly the crew overwhelmed guards and nobles alike. 
It was enough to make up your mind. 
Picking up a bottle to aid the captain and his crew, a large hand gripped your shoulder. “OH, THERE’S NO NEED FOR THAT NOW. YOU’VE ALREADY PROVEN ME WRONG.” Smirking, he turned you to him. “SEEMS YE JUST MIGHT HAVE WHAT IT TAKES AFTER ALL.”
A heave had you mercilessly slung over his shoulder, the captain quickly turning to leave with a shout.
“COME! TIS TIME WE WEIGH ANCHOR!”
With riotous laughter and good spirits, the tavern soon emptied of crew and anything worth taking. You were carted off to a grand ship anchored within the port until you were unceremoniously tossed onto the bed in the captain’s quarters.
Heat blossomed across your face.
“WELCOME ABOARD THE BURNING ROSE, LOVE.” His voice lowered as he leaned forward. “I HOPE YOU’RE READY FOR WHATEVER COMES NEXT.”
Grand Master Post PirateTale Aus
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sweetswesf · 8 months
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Hello, everyone.
I had a good time with my mom. Despite what we’ve gone through, I put all that aside for the weekend and just tried to honor her the best I could so that she could enjoy her time and so that we could make a new memory. At the end she gave me some money and told me she would help me with rent so that I could stay in SF because it didn’t make sense for me to move back home if I needed to move back suddenly for a job.
At first I was like, “how sweet and naiive of her to think I’d get a job shortly after I move back” because I truly don’t know how long this unemployment time will be…
She saw what my day to day was like, and she felt sorry for me. She saw all the homelessness, my small space, heard about my lack of friendships and community here, how non-Black people just walk all over me on the street and don’t respect my space, and she knows I haven’t wanted to be here for a while, but she understands the smartest option at the moment is to just stay here…
I can say that I was really stressed this week. I didn’t have much motivation to do a lot of algorithms, but I still did what I could. I tried a few new food places out trying to fill a void. It helped a little bit, but with me being so conscious about every hour, calorie, and dollar, I’m not quite sure it was worth it. I went to a bakery that is usually really busy, but because I went while most people were at work, it was empty. The loneliness of that was just a reminder of my situation. The other place was in the financial district at lunch time. I didn’t plan to get there at lunch, but with public transportation and how slow I was moving that day, it ended up being at that time. I’m sure the people I saw working probably wish they had time off, but I was thinking “man, how nice would it be to have a job right now and not have to think you’re being irresponsible by eating $15 noodles you could have made for much cheaper…”
I’m continuing to pray and be hopeful for the best. I have to remind myself to keep studying, keep interviewing, keep trying, everyday. My Medi-Cal application STILL hasn’t been approved yet, and what’s better: they won’t answer their phones. I don’t want to go back to pay $700+ for health insurance.
I took SOOO many naps this week just exhausted from my mom’s visit. I did an interview. Interviewer was yawning and not paying attention. I would ask him questions, sometimes repetitively, but he wouldn’t respond to them. I guess he was tuning me out. One question in particular he didn’t respond to, so I continued with the design on that assumption, and he later corrected me on it. I had to remind him that I asked him about that and he didn’t say anything so that he wouldn’t give me negative feedback on that part, but once you call them out, it’s not a good look for you either 🤷🏾‍♀️. I asked for feedback and he told me he couldn’t give me any but that, “I definitely did some good things.” But the way he said that makes me think there were a lot of negatives.
There was some “okay” news for the role I’m hoping for and another person who referred me to a different role said she would bump the recruiter. I just hope I can stay focused, not forget what I have learned thus far, and not be so distracted by my circumstances so that I can get what I want.
I’m struggling with confidence and thinking about all the money I have spent during this time. Every day I wake up like wow, I’ve gone 9 months without a job…
The longest I’ve heard of someone going without a job is 2 years. With every passing day, I feel like I get less and less attractive to open positions and that doesn’t feel great, because I don’t want to settle for a position just to have something.
I won’t forget this time. It’s been traumatic. I still cry everyday.
I’m so emotionally sensitive as well. My mom bought me groceries after I had just bought groceries and it angered me. Just give me the money. I am not lacking in food. I probably am eating too much. I need money for rent and health care, primarily. It made me wonder if she didn’t trust me to spend the money she would give me wisely. She also bought me something that would give me more counter space and it frustrates me because it reminded me of how small and frustrating my counter space is and how I want to be in an apartment with more counter space. I also felt like that money she spent on that could have gone to rent or health care.
I told her how I felt. She understood. Just saying those words to her made me cry. I was frustrated and I was frustrated that I was frustrated. I felt ungrateful. She was trying to help and I was trying to dictate how she should help me. It also just reminded me of my situation again. I didn’t have this stress when I had a job. I didn’t have to have these hard conversations. I didn’t have to be so hyper-vigilant about every dollar.
I’m trying my best to stay calm and just focus on His promise for my life. And just appreciate things, no matter how “sweet” I used to have it. I have to believe that great is coming and that I’m going through this for a reason.
My little brother moved back to LA from Korea. He was there probably less than a month. I thought my mom knew he was on anti-depressant and anxiety meds when I saw them after I had his room cleaned. Apparently she didn’t know. Apparently when they went on their vacation to Arizona, he didn’t take his meds and my cousins told my mom that he was freaking out. Apparently, he didn’t take his meds on his trip to Japan and had a panic attack that my mom had to pay a $1k hospital bill for. Apparently, he wants to move to my grandmother’s house, the house I planned to move to if I had to move home.
My brain couldn’t process all of this and I just shook my head. I want my dream job real bad and healing for myself and my family.
With all this exhaustion, the thought of jumping right into a job fatigues me. Sure I could “take mini breaks” now, but how do I do that on a small budget without over consuming social media?
Speaking of which, I want to try next week to just consume less social media. If I need a break, I need to just walk around, open my Bible, close my eyes.
I wished one of my “friends” who stopped contacting me a happy birthday and offered to take her out. She said she felt really withdrawn. I haven’t heard from her since Monday. I feel that relationship has ended and I need to stop putting so much effort into maintaining it when she’s showed me so many signs that she’s done.
I was thinking about how Lil Wayne said he wanted to kill hisself after he was told he couldn’t rap anymore. I get it. If something you’re so passionate about gets taken away from you, you know you’ll be missing that thing forever and nothing short of God can replace that gratifying feeling. Not saying that it’s smart to consider that, but I don’t judge him for feeling that way. I could see why he felt that way. There is always a brighter day and reason to live and keep trying.
My mentor from my old team who’s been practice interviewing me hasn’t left my side. He’s remained encouraging, and consistently meets with me. I owe that man SO MUCH! I’m thinking about giving him $1k after I get a job, but he deserves SOOO much more than that.
I’m grateful for all the blessings and this time. I know more than what I want is coming and that I’m stronger than I think I am.
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thefallenangelsgang · 19 days
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Hee Hee Hoo Hoo just wrote some fucked up letters for my DnD campaign
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[TRANSCRIPTS BELOW BREAK]
Playing an interesting take on Saltmarsh my group is affectionately calling Pirates and Parolees. Everyone in the party is a criminal out on parole except for me, a First Mate on the vessel that was supposed to give them job experience and serve as a sort of training while out on parole. We finished our first two prologue sessions (we are easing a lot of new players into DnD so we tried to take it slow) and ended with the ship being attacked by Umberlee cultists (our Quartermaster was a plant!) our captain and 7 other crew members died.
Now I am stuck in Saltmarsh with 5 parolees who's crimes range from identity theft to serial killing, my best friend (the captain) is dead, and I can't leave the Parolees without permission from the government.
For those that are familiar with my Edge of Midnight or Baldur's Gate 3 writing, or have heard me talk about my PC Wynleth Reiden, you may recognize some names on these. Wynleth is serving as an NPC in this campaign and as the main governmental contact for the characters. Her husband Zan Caimaris (who is usually dead when he is mentioned) was alive and the Captain on The Eliza Lee. He died in the Cultist Attack (or did he? *wiggles brow in Wynleth's backstory requires him to come back very sick, we'll see if my brother sticks to that though*)
My current PC, Asta Galhearth, was best friends with Zan and one of few that knew about Wynleth and Zan's relationship. He tried to save Zan from his watery grave but a Kraken got in the way of that. A kraken also killed the crew members he tried to save and then some. He's feeling really responsible about it so he resigns from the company. We'll see where this goes lmao.
[Letter 1]
Symond Larke Pride of the Gate Mercantile Seatower, Lower City, Baldur’s Gate To whom it may concern, I regret to inform you that the Eliza Lee has been lost, her cargo along with it. We were attacked off the shores of Saltmarsh, a mere quarter mile from our destination. We lost many crew to the attack, their names are listed below. Kharvas Gav -Rigger Concrete - Rigger Andor Den - Rigger Amya Den - Rigger Beacon Xath - Healer Mel Hallow - Cook Lilyore Zasebar - Cook Zan Caimaris - Captain Attached are letters written to their kin. Please dispense to their families along with their final pay. I hope it brings them some closure. Please also take this as my formal resignation from the company. I have failed my crew, my captain, and the Eliza Lee. I am no longer fit to command a crew or a vessel. I ask that you dispense my final pay to my wife as I do not know if I shall return from this journey. I have also enclosed a letter for her. The Parolees under Zan and I’s care have survived. I have contacted the Authorities and am awaiting further instruction. it was an honor to serve, Asta Galhearth
[Letter 2]
My darling wife, The ship was attacked. Zan didn’t make it. The surviving crew is stranded in Saltmarsh. I don’t know when, or if, I will be able to return home, I have resigned from the company. You should have received this letter with my final pay. I wish it was more but I cannot bear to continue to call myself a sailor with the blood on my hands. I failed them. I failed Zan. I failed you. I hope you can forgive me. I will try to write soon with updates on my journey home. Despite my exit from the company, I am still responsible for the parolees under my charge. The road ahead seems long and arduous, I long for nothing more than to feel your embrace. Pray for me, it seems I have incurred the Bitch Queen’s wrath. I will hurry along as fast as I can. Yours eternally, Asta
[Letter 3]
Wynleth Reiden Ambassador of Baldur’s Gate The High Hall, Temple District, Upper City, Baldur’s Gate Madam Ambassador, I regret to inform you that the Eliza Lee has been lost. We have lost a substantial amount of our crew, including our captain, and all of our cargo. The company has been notified and the remaining crew allowed to make their way back to Baldur’s Gate however they see fit. I have chosen to resign from my position with the company but, in reviewing the documentation, cannot cede my responsibility of the parolees taken under Captain Caimaris and I’s charge. I am looking for further instruction. I was ordered to await something concerning the parolee’s when we arrived here in Saltmarsh. We have arrived, though through unforeseen circumstances. If you are aware of any solutions to our predicament, or any clauses that allow me to shed this responsibility into more capable hands, I would be much obliged. I am completely out of my depth here and, frankly, have been since we picked them up in Waterdeep. Anxiously awaiting your response, Asta Galhearth
[Letter 4]
Wynleth, I am so sorry. I tried to save him, I really did, but I failed him. I’ll never forgive myself, Asta
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Dude
I’m so fucking close
In like two months I’ll be done
I’ll be out of this fucking hell hole of a high school
And I hope I can get out of this house
I want to leave and never look back
But god
Oh god dude I wish
I wish my entire high school experience wasn’t wasted on this fucking cult
Growing up in the Mormon church as been living hell
I missed out on so much just having to survive
I still remember shit of having to constantly be afraid of my own well being because I didn’t know if my family was safe, the people at church where safe, if my own friends where safe
Dude my parents OH MY FUCKING GOD dude they home schooled me for middle school then signed me up for a fucking Mormon private school taking their online course
I was so fucking isolated from anyone outside the fucking church
It was wake up, go to seminary at 5 FUCKING 30 AM, than listen to your classes talking about Jesus and how you can find him in every subject there is, after that go to a church activity, still have some time? How about we invite the MISSIONARIES over for a small FUCKING DINNER PARTY.
THIS WAS MY LIFE FOR YEARS
Im an atheist
I’m gay
I’m trans
I’m half Mexican
The treatment I’ve mostly gotten has been micro aggressions at best and physical/sexual assault at worst
I will never know what it’s like to just be a normal kid because of the people that preach they want “kids to just be kids” 
IF YOU FUCKING WANTED THAT THEN YOU COULDVE JUST LEFT ME ALONE
It’s so fucking shitty
Ever since I was outed at the age of 12 or 11 it’s been hell
At first I was fine because I still had my best friend that supported me
It was funny even
You’d be minding your business, then someone would try to talk you out of being gay, try to argue why it’s wrong, get mad at you for being gay. You’d fight back
Laugh at them with ur friends. Poke the bear with a stick
Then the tide would shift
Suddenly they didn’t try to pray the gay away, they weren’t trying to argue you out of it
Now they saw you as a threat
A threat to their friends’ sexuality, a threat to their kids’ sexuality, a threat to their own sexuality.
They where more aggressive
Often yelling at out, picking on you, singling you out, even threats that they love to call jokes
But that’s okay,
You’ll hold your head high
Stand your ground
you won’t swallow your pride
so you’ll fight with your words
And if they decided they didn’t want to play with words
Then you’d fight with every tooth and nail you have
You’d be very really win a fight
Like ever
They usually get broken up by adults or they’d get the upper hand and stop when they’re bored
A rare occurrence actually having to fight
But it changes you
Before you where creepy
Now you try to be off putting, to appear as batshit crazy as you can
But it’s okay because when it gets too much you go to your friends
Then
The tide shifts again
Your friends are closer to other friends than before
They stop hanging out
Then the excuses come
“My dad thinks you might be making me gay. Sorry. Yeah I’m going to have to block you.”
“My mom said if your mom weren’t friends with her, that she wouldn’t let me hang out with you, can we maybe stop hugging?”
“Being gay is one thing, but being trans is a bit much. You’ve always been a girl and i can’t see you any other way.”
“Are you just trying to be a guy so girls can like you more? That’s really creepy.”
And the worst of all you best friend
“I just think marriage should stay between a man and a woman.”
“But you said that you’d support gay marriage despite what your parents say. Your aunt is gay, and you’re a witch.”
“changed my mind.”
Now it’s harder to hold your head high
To stand your ground
You start to retreat
You cant appear normal for the life of you
But now you laugh at their jokes
You play along with them
Make yourself small
You’ll expire soon
It doesn’t matter
You promised
You took away life now it’s your turn
But you can never actually mange to do it
Then your friend finds out
He makes you stay
You decided to brake that promise but now it’s too late
Now your sister knows
You make another promise
Before you know it there’s too many promises to brake
They watch you like a hawk
Make sure you get better
But it doesn’t erase the fact that they pushed to here
You’re at this point because of them
And now it’s less than three months from graduation
You’ll never have a real high school experience
You’ll never be able to be a real teenager
You’ll never be able to be a real teen boy
What are you going to do about it
You graduate in less than three months
Can you make it to crawl out of this hell hole?
Or will you lay there in the grime you’re so well acquainted with?
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miss-florist · 1 year
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Letter to You
Hey,
I know that this letter will probably never reach you but if it does I hope you don’t read it. I hope and I pray to god you never find this letter. But somehow deep inside of me, there’s a really small, very small miniscule part of me that wants you to find this, to find me. I am hiding from you at the best of my capabilities because I am ashamed of myself. I am ashamed for being me and not being what I could be. The truth is that I am in love with you yet I am ashamed of being in love with you while being me. These feelings will either make or break us. Maybe this letter isn’t a confession but a request for permission. May I fall in love with you?
People will tell me others’ opinions don’t matter and I should only care about what I think and the truth is I already do that. But what happens when the only opinion that matters to me about myself is that I’m an embarrassment? I’m a prisoner of guilt and shame in a house of mirrors and everywhere I go I see the ugly echoes of myself that I can’t escape from. They say you need to love yourself before you love someone else but what if I love myself too much that I can’t get myself hurt by loving you? 
I’m scared. I’m scared that by loving you I will let you down. I have always let the people who I loved down. Starting from my parents to my friends to myself. It’s a pattern I can’t ignore. They have given me a chance and they have given me the opportunity to prove that I am worthy of being loved and acknowledged yet I failed all of them. Today, I am still a mess like I was 5 years ago. I still find comfort in my own suffering and get repulsed by change that would benefit me and help me get better. If you had known this about me, would you have stayed by my side like you always have? Would you have still treated me so gently, with so much patience like you always have? 
You have always the still calm pond while I have been the restless waterfall. And just like waterfalls and streams, I always find myself back to you to settle down. You make me feel so many things at once that I can’t find the right words to describe just what it is. You’re like a breath of fresh air in a world tucked in smoke and fog of worry and anxiety. When I was lost and afraid in the dark, you appeared and comforted me in your dim but warm light. On days where the rain and storm were about to hurl me with them, you held my hand and kept me by your side. There were times when I was shaking and breaking apart and in that moment you put me back together despite the lengthy process. 
You’ve become a necessity to me, someone I cannot live or function without. That’s the scariest part.
What will I do when the day comes when you have to take your leave? When you find grass that’s greener where the other person will supply you with all the warmth and affection the way you did to me? Someone who is your safe haven where you can truly be yourself. I know I am not perfect but I will try my best to become that person for you if you give me some time to crawl out of my cocoon.
I know it's too much to ask but, will you find it in your enormous heart to wait for me? To wait for me to find the version of myself that fits my soul the best? Do we have that kind of time with each other? 
Is it selfish of me to beg you to put a hold on everything until I am ready to proudly say that I love you?
If I could ask for one superpower, it would be to stop time so I don’t waste any of yours. So that my eternity is your second. I wish to wither and rot for decades in the time it takes for you to blink. I do not want you to live another second without me so I would rather have my entire lifespan with you than without you for a single moment. 
However, that is not possible because time does not stop for anyone. Not even you, that's why I must hurry.
So like a flower, please wait for me to blossom and show you all of my shades and scents. Please wait for the day I shed all of my budding shells and come see you in my true form. On that day, I will be able to tell you how I truly feel using my voice and not my writing.
Yours always and forever,
The Florist
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Okay, as the hours are ticking away, I might as well get something off my chest. I’m hoping just the sharing of my anxiety will be enough to make it easier to face.
And please, don’t feel obligated to reply. I’m not doing this to make people feel for me. I just need the release.
I return to work tomorrow after two weeks away. I had to apply for an Emergency Leave of Absence for ‘compelling reasons’ as outlined on the website of the third-party company that handles leave requests and payouts. My reasons were 100% valid (not health related, and I have paperwork to back up what I explained about my living situation, and will present it if anyone asks to see it) but my request was summarily denied by the Store Manager, who wants my ‘ole ass out of there ASAP. I’m sure they’d like to do it without being liable for unemployment. 
One of the front end supervisors texted me the day my request was rejected, and I replied that - well, I’m still losing my home with little notice AND I have no place to go, let alone any place to put a houseful of stuff to store. She wished me luck and I haven’t heard a word since.
If When they fire people, they wait until nearly the end of their shift, which mean 5-6 hours of torture waiting for the guillotine blade to fall. I should be glad--I’ve been needing to get away from that hellhole for years, and ever since December it has felt like I’ve been playing chicken with management to see which of us gives first. I wish I wasn’t such a wimp as to be dreading the actual visit to the office to get it done. I’ll probably cry because that’s how I deal with shit, even when I’m angry not sad, and in this case, it’ll be with a huge sense of relief. I am praying that I WILL be eligible for unemployment--I think they could just say I abandoned my job, but I’m still on the schedule, so going back tomorrow proves that I didn’t.
If you’re the praying kind, I would appreciate some at this point.
*whew*
I’ve been thinking a lot about the things I will miss, things that have made what I once truly enjoyed into a miserable experience. There’s so much I’m going to miss about the work itself and the customers I take care of. I’ve made some good friends with people I’ve met across the counter, over the years, and I’m really going to miss them. I’ll miss the relief I see on the faces of people who have difficulties dealing with my coworkers who lack patience and finesse--people who always tell me how glad they are that I’m the one waiting on them. I’ll miss helping people that are nervous or scared because they have to do an unfamiliar financial service, and I alleviate their fear by being kind, sympathetic and professional (professional is something my company doesn’t even look for when hiring anymore). I’ll miss helping people (usually Senior Citizens) by preventing them from being scammed out of thousands of dollars via wire transfer fraud--I rarely get recognized for it, and I’m the last of those where I work who pays the proper attention to those kind of details.
I’m going to miss meeting people of numerous cultures from all around the world, and the beautiful color of their accents (those of the Caribbean and African nations are my favorites - such beautiful, lilting music to those tongues!)  I’m going to miss my regulars (especially those from elsewhere in the globe) who I’ve chatted with and learned about their cultures and religions. And the way they treat me because they are glad to find a student of the world in such a humble setting.
I’ll miss the impeccable manners of gentlemen not born here, who always treat me with the utmost respect, making me envy the women of their cultures, especially when too many young man from here have come to my desk with harsh, foul language, and coarse behavior. I’ll miss the moments when a customer ‘gets’ that I am doing my very best to do the best for them--despite some difficult situations like severe understaffing. That I take each customer one at a time, and they get my full attention until the transaction is done. I’ll miss the terms of endearment they treat me with...Miss Vicki...Mama...’mam...because they feel the respect I treat them with.
One thing my employer, in it’s current state, plays lip service to but doesn’t know the first thing about seeing it done, is simple respect. Not just for the customers as unique individuals, but for their employees as individuals and as the assets we can be.
However it shakes out, I’m glad for my time of service. And for knowing on many specific occasions, I made a good difference in someone’s life, if only for an hour or a day. Gonna miss that too.
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ujunxverse · 15 days
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hello viv! i doubt you remember me, but a couple years back i sent a lengthy ask to you upon reading 14 steps to a better you (angsty teen, lighthouse analogy person??? if that helps). if you do recognize me, i apologize for such a delayed response. when i first got notice of your reply i was eager to write back right away, but i felt bad to do so. i spoke of how your story had such an influence that it made me want to get back up again, but at the time i had not made much progress that i would have been satisfied to report. i wanted to talk to you as, well, a better me. 
i believe i was 16 back then, i’m 18 now and finishing up my first year of university soon. i’ve achieved and experienced a lot that junior year me would have not even dreamt of. i know i am capable of more, but considering what my state was previously, i'm glad i'm stable enough to establish such a foundation for my “adult” self. it's not a constant feeling yet, but it's a slow and steady improvement. i cannot stress how thankful i am for you and your kind words that motivated me, viv.
honestly, i think about you and your writing more than i expected. as far as i can tell, you are someone who has such immense love and care for your craft. despite having only read 2-3 of your works, your words and passion have lived subconsciously in me for years. while i do enjoy reading, i have not really read many stories in my life so it may not mean much coming from me, but to this day 14 steps is still one of the most impactful pieces of work i’ve had the pleasure of consuming. i sincerely do wish that your efforts always receive the amount of appreciation they deserve. 
your pinned post… perhaps i should be sad that you privated your previous stories, but i think i’m more proud than anything. last i recall you had plans of doing so earlier. i am glad you know your worth and are interacting with an audience who can recognize that. also if i am not mistaken, you had a magazine right? i’m sorry but i forgot its name, if you do get the time to see this could you please share the blog? i would love to support in any way that i can! i remember there was a categorization of genres into seasons which was such a beautiful concept, i hope the magazine is flourishing.
how have you been? i really hope you are doing okay and taking care in the midst of your busy life. until the next time i talk to you, i pray my admiration and support reaches you through telepathic signals. best of luck with everything!!!!!
hey anon !! sorry for getting back to you so late. i'm trying to remember, but frankly, it's been like two whole years since 14 steps initially came out on the blr back in orpheyeux, so i can't really remember much. i hope you don't take offense to this, because i'm normally the type to remember things with a photographic memory. i think a part of it, despite how nice the community i've crafted as orpheyeux was, is the fact that there were some bad things that happened in my time there, and having my work plagiarized here left a bitter taste in my mouth that tanked any form of sentiment i had for this site and my works being published here. i do remember an ask saying they had no place to comment on 14 steps as someone with a lack of experience in life, but it could be someone else.
first off, before getting into my full response, i'd like to say thank you for reaching out. it's always nice to have someone come into my inbox and tell me my work and my words had a profound effect on the trajectory of their life, and seeing that 14 steps, too, was something i wrote when i wanted something to change in my life and the stagnancy i felt, it gives me solace that, as cheesy as this sounds, i'm not the only one going through some form of individual crisis. writing has always allowed me to channel my thoughts and my feelings about whatever emotion i was going through, and i'm extremely happy that it had reached you and affected you in one way or another. it wasn't my initial aim when i wrote 14 steps, but seeing as so many readers have had their lives altered or at least learned something from jake and mc's journey, i can say i'm in some ways proud of what 14 steps had accomplished.
it's good to hear that you're doing well !! i know adolescence can be a difficult time to navigate as i've gone through many ups and downs as a teenager myself, but one thing i would say is that it gets better with time, even if things do get harder and more challenging. when i wrote 14 steps, i was still in the middle of my second year at university fresh out of the pandemic, and now, i'm due to graduate university in the summer and have been offered a spot to do my masters. creative writing had become something that i put in the backburner as i gear up to work on my research interests, and i think it will stay that way for a while given the reading and writing intensive labor required to complete a masters let alone consider a career in academia. though i rarely get praise for any of my works, i think 14 steps left a mark huge enough to have people such as yourself coming back to my now defunct blog and pseudonyms to thank me, and that's more than enough praise and appreciation to me. there's an odd, almost humane experience of wanting to be remembered, and in a sense, this tiny, niche space where my work lives on is good enough to me.
i've watched frieren recently and it completely changed my views in life, where i now believe it's better to live mundanely but with content than continue chasing after accomplishments and success, because in a sense, what you accomplish for yourself is already good enough. and good enough is all you need to keep yourself satisfied. if i'm being honest, part of why i had to let go of orpheyeux was 1) the fandom being toxic but also 2) because it was getting to my head. the statistics, likes, reblogs, praise—all of it was getting to my head and it was getting too difficult for me to keep up. i wanted to write more, but i was afraid i would let my growing audience down because my ideas were not romantic or something that had the same effect as 14 steps or welcome, which was two of the works that gained explosive popularity at the time. despite this, though, it's good to reconnect, and once again, i'm happy you reached out, truly.
yes, you're right. i've been meaning to leave for quite some time now, and i've decided to completely move to ao3. i think the lack of aesthetics has made it a bit better for me to focus my energy on writing alone, because writing on tumblr made me very conscious about banner art/design etc. and yes, indigo seasons was an old project that's now unfortunately defunct, and i do run a music magazine irl but i would like to keep my real identity separate from what i do here, if that's okay with you. since i'm graduating, i'm also stepping down from my two-year tenure as co-editor-in-chief, but if you're curious to see more of my works for the music magazine (to be honest, it's not creative writing at all, just op-eds and show reviews), then i would love to reach out privately and show you our magazine.
your words have certainly reached me the way 14 steps have reached you, and messages like these keep me wanting to write a lot, knowing that there are people out there who truly feel anything from the things i've put out. apart from graduating and preparing for grad school, nothing's going on in my life. i have a pretty stable part-time job and i plan to do an internship, and i've been thinking about my own 14 steps ahead of time.
how have you been? i hope you're doing well too, and do reach out whenever you can if you need someone to talk to. i'll always be here despite a hectic schedule, and i do enjoy long conversations such as this one.
best regards,
vivian.
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thoughtsofnaoru · 5 months
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AN OPEN LETTER TO THE RIGHT GUY OF MY DREAMS.
Heavy TW: Open prayer + mood swings related content
To my spiritual instant big brother,
Please bear with me that I have mood swings and I've been battling it for almost six years and a lot of some guys are trying to trick me instead of saving me from my dark thoughts in days, months and years.
Every sleepless nights in despite of taking my medications, my heart and my mind are about to be get fragile into pieces everytime I hear your voice and you are crying out for God's help and I know you can feel me about my condition right now. I deeply heard you in my mind saying that "My heart goes to someone who have been suffered from anxiety, mood swings and depression. Please give us hope, dear Father and heal her fragile heart and her mind as You do. Embrace her." while your voice is cracking out and you cried until you can't continue to open up because I know you will be there for me. I can't wait to hug you if you feel the same way but I just really can't. It affects me too much.
If I am there to meet you one day, I am sorry. I cannot comfort you when I see you in pain. If a big brother from another mother cries thru prayer in God's presence, it affects me of course and never gonna lie. If ever I can meet you, someday we can play some games together. We can coop if you like. You can also invite me in your Church activities even tho we are in different beliefs and I hope you will be the best instrument coming from the one true God just for me. The reason why I decided to join one day it is not about my personal choice but I do have a purpose. To avoid toxicity to those people that can kills me in my mind to make me feel irritative.
Once I'll meet you and came into my life, and also a gamer who likes Genshin Impact the most, we can coop everyday. If you play Starrail, I'll choose you as my support. We can chat 24/7 whenever I am still wide awake or I cannot at the end of the day. In Genshin, I can be a Baizhu main then you will be a Neuvillette main so that we can be a bloom team reaction buddies. In Starrail, I can be an Imbibitor Lunae or Jingliu main, you will be a Luocha or Huohuo support then vice versa.
I pray and I hope that you will invite me in various activities in the Church as long as my family finally accepted it wholeheartedly and they will loved you the most. I hope you are the right person and my main reason why I can fight my anxiety. One day, I wish you will be my spiritual instant big brother to the man of my dreams and I need you for me to save me from all of my negative and dark thoughts that affects me in the past and you will give me hope to shine a light through.
Please appreciate this open letter and I hope you will accept it. If my whole fam finally accepts you in 100% way, we are beyond grateful. Our house is always open for you. Thank you for guiding me.
P.S: I am not an INC member but once we meet in the future, I am willing to share you my whole story. Thank you for reading this letter, my spiritual instant big brother and Neuvillette main. I hope I can trust you. 💙
Sincerely,
The future C6 Baizhu main who continuously researching in progress...
~ Naorupedia
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