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#been thinking about the long pond sessions today
komhacoustic · 1 month
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and when I felt like an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite
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iwanthermidnightz · 2 months
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the fact that taylor played getaway car,
mashed up with august (lost in the memory),
mashed up with the other side of the door,
specifically starting at the part where it goes
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and then on piano goes into i just wanted you to know that this is me trying 😭
I’ve been having a hard time adjusting
I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting (salt air and the rust in your door)
I didn't know if you'd care if I came back
I have a lot of regrets about that
pulled the (getaway) car off the road to the lookout
could've followed my fears all the way down
and maybe I don't quite know what to say
but I'm here in your doorway (i know all i need is on the other side of the door)
living for the hope of it all
Taylor on this is me trying (long pond studio sessions)
"I've been thinking about addiction and l've been thinking about people who, if they're suffering from mental illness or they're suffering through addiction or they have an everyday struggle, no one pars them on the back every day but every day they are actively fighting something. But there are so many days that nobody gives them credit for that and so, how often must somebody who's in that sort of internal struggle must want to say to everyone in the room, 'You have no idea how close I am to going back to a dark place.'
I had this idea that the first verse would be about someone who is in a sort of life crisis and has just been trying and failing and trying and failing in their relationship, has been messing things up with the people they love, has been letting everyone down, and has driven to this overlook — this cliff, and it's just in the car going, I could do whatever I want in this moment and it could affect everything forever.' But this person backs up and drives home.
And then the second verse is about someone who felt they had a lot of potential in their life. I think there are a lot of mechanisms for us in our school days, in high school or college to excel and to be patted on the back for something. And then a lot of people get out of school and there are less abilities for them to get gold stars, and then you have to make all these decisions, you have to pave your own way and there's no set class yourself you can take. I think a lot of people feel really swept up in that, so I was thinking about this person who feels really lost in life and then starts drinking and every second is trying not to.”
and yesterday she sang you’re losing me where she goes
fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me / I'm the best thing at this party (you're losin’ me)
and today in this is me trying
and it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound
yeah much to think about 😭
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chaotic-super · 2 years
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A Walk In The Park
Supercorptober day 1 - summer
This summer hasn’t been the most eventful.
It hasn’t been particularly stressful, nor relaxing. Not the warmest nor the coldest, just decidedly average in every way imaginable. Still, It’s Lena’s favourite, one to go down in the history books as the summer when Lena truly met Kara.
Of course, they had actually met years ago, long before now when Kara wasn’t honest about her identity and Lena wasn’t forthcoming about her feelings. It’s all different now.
Since she came back from the Phantom Zone, Kara’s been different, more attentive to her. Maybe it’s just the old saying playing out – distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Their time together has increased exponentially and not just because they are now working together in The Tower most days, they are spending every bit of free time they can get their hands on together.
It’s become their go-to activity, not purposefully, but they enjoy it all the same. Neither of them had spent much time in National City’s parks but walking around the lakes and past the trees has become sacred to them, an everyday thing that they aren’t willing to give up.
There’s times when all they do is walk in silence, wordlessly pointing to pretty flowers or trees, maybe a duck or two, and there’s times when there’s no space for silence, tales of their childhoods to their deepest fears spilling out of them, desperate to share their thoughts and memories with each other.
They couldn’t choose which they prefer, they’re both special in their own right and both keep a necessary balance between making the trips depressing and more akin to therapy sessions and a day out to destress from work, a time for joy and laughter.
It’s easy to see how they fell into the pattern, the opportunity to learn everything they can about the woman walking beside them, to know what truly makes up the person hiding beneath their skin.
Today is one if the lighter days, the sunshine beating down on them while Kara swings the bag of duck feed between them, Lena not letting her feed them anything that might harm them, ready to head down to the little duck pond half way into the park.
“You did not call Cat Grant short!” Lena laughs hysterically, doubling down when Kara hides her flushed cheeks in her hands with an embarrassed chuckle.
“I did, it just fell out. It was a natural reaction, she told me that I’m unnaturally tall, so I told her that she’s just unnaturally short. I don’t think I could have run out of there quicker.”
Lena wipes the tears from her eyes and can’t stop thinking about how cute Kara looks with her pretty pink cheeks. “That’s the best story you’ve ever told me.”
“I try.”
“I know.”
They fall back into a comfortable silence, and when Kara moves the bag into her other hand, the vacant spot gets filled quickly by Lena’s own fingers. They’re not sure who made the move, or if it could have even been both of them, but it’s not the first time they’ve found themselves in this position, they just don’t talk about it. Until today, that is.
Lena looks down at their hands then up to Kara’s face, studying her side profile, trying to figure out if Kara is feeling any which way about whatever it is they’re doing. “What are we doing, Kara?”
“What do you mean?” Kara turns to her, a little frown resting on her face, crinkle taking its spot between her eyebrows.
Lena squeezes her hand and lifts it slightly. “This, everything we’ve been doing, the walks and the talking.”
“I –“ Kara starts but doesn’t know what to day, too afraid of what might come out.
“I think we both know what’s going on and I think we need to finally stop toeing the line and make a decision.” Lena looks away from Kara, fearful of the expression she might find on her face and fearful of a possible rejection, this is a make it or break it for her heart.
Kara’s silent. A million and one thoughts are running through her brain, and she can’t help but linger on the one. That tiniest glimmer of hope that Lena may be proposing what she thinks she is proposing.
With a deep shaky breath, she dives. “Are you asking me how I would feel about transitioning our friendship into…something more?”
Lena dares to glance over out the corner of her eye, surprised that Kara sounds so calm, she’s not always the most receptive person to change, she knows that.
“Would it be a problem if I was?”
“No, I don’t think it would be.” Kara clarifies.
Lena dives too, meeting her in the refreshing water below. “Then yes, I am proposing we officially transition our relationship, starting by calling our walks what they really are – dates.”
Kara tightens her grip on Lena’s hand, focusing her gaze on Lena with a dopey grin spreading across her face. “I think that sounds great.”
“Me too. Now, I bet those ducks are hungry so we should get a move on so we can go somewhere for lunch, have a date the old fashioned way.”
Kara giggles, using their joined hands to pull Lena closer. “Lena Luthor, are you trying to wine and dine me?”
With her infamous smirk and eyebrow raise, Lena answers. “Oh, absolutely. I thought I’d made that clear.”
Kara leans ever closer, her breath skirting along Lena’s lips. “Crystal.”
Lena leans in fully, taking Kara’s lips in her own and savouring every second of the moment, the physical instance that their relationship officially changed for the rest of their lives.
It only lasts a few seconds, the sound of quacking in the distance urging them to hurry up and feed the hungry little beasts, but it’s still a lifechanging experience.
So yeah, there’s a pretty good reason that this summer is Lena’s favourite…and maybe Kara’s too if the dopey grin she gets whenever she looks at Lena is something to go by.
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torturemytummy · 2 years
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Buckle up!
Last night: there’s TWO Whoppers, a medium fry, and two cans of soda in there.
Oh, and two days worth of not being able to release any of that gurgling bloat. We’ll get to that in a minute. It was my birthday last week so my gf and I were fucking like rabbits the entirety of the week while telling each other how well we ate and her poking, prodding, and pressing on my tummy. We ate absolutely nothing but greasy fried junk food, probably close to two gallons of ice cream, and cake and Sunday night I worked late and was so hungry I ate a whole chow mein combo from a local Chinese place that made my belly sick. Really sick. I could already tell before bed that I had both eaten WAY too much and that what I ate was NOT going to make my tummy happy. As we laid down to fuck and go to bed, the gas started to shift around, vibrating against the taught skin.
So Monday I woke up with an impossibly tight churning, gassy belly full of the half-formed liquid and gas that I had to run out of bed to let flood out of my spasmnig gut. It didn’t even feel good to let out and my tummy remained bloated, achy, and even pretty nauseous as my belly demanded 4 additional trips to the bathroom that within 45 minutes.
Here’s the fun part: in that last 15 minutes of the hour, we were leaving to go with my gf’s work friends to fish for the 4th. Private pond with no bathrooms. At all. And it’s visible from the road. So I had to take my anti-nausea medication, which also causes days-long constipation, usually a solid (hehe) three days of nothing moving in my belly except intense waves of amazing, loud gas cramps ripping through me. We left a little late because I was then in the bathroom a 6th time to try to get out as much as I could.
The meds kick in pretty immediately though, maybe 20 minutes, and I could already feel things calming down at least a little. I didn’t really have an appetite until we already left, so of course my only option on the way was a grease-soaked bacon egg and cheese croissant. If it weren’t for the meds, I think I would’ve needed to go home because almost instantly as I was done eating my tummy let out a long, strained gurgle from the new gas being produced and trapped. But the pond was pretty far out, so by the time we got there, I was pretty much already just carrying around cement in my gut, not even rumbling, just a heavy, full sensation and a slow but ever-growing bloat.
The heat did not help at all and we called it a quits by about two and stopped for lunch on the way back. My gf’s friends had a little hot dog and ice cream place and I was feeling absolutely masochistic so I ordered just a medium soft serve and, inevitably, the bloat began getting tighter and tighter. I was so thankful that I didn’t let out any giant, embarrassing rumbles. When we finally got home I dashed to the bathroom again and… yes, you guessed it: absolutely nothing. Nothing at all would move out of my belly. Just a pressure that was worst right at my belly button.
The pic above is from the next day. Once again I found myself at work, desperately wishing for relief and hoping all of the moving around would help shift some things. It did not. Even walking around stained the taught muscles and skin of my abdomen.
After work I went over to a friends house who I didn’t get to see yet for my birthday. She had just baked a bunch of biscotti and I hadn’t eaten anything all day other than a vending machine danish from work, so I took probably a few more pieces than I should have. I picked up my gf and she wanted Burger King, which is how I got to this photo right before another session of my gf gently running her fingers over my tummy then slamming her palm down when she coaxes out a gurgle.
FINALLY things have started moving again today… but I’ve gone straight back to the painful slop from Monday morning. Still crampy and a little bloated this morning so I initially decided to ease up on my poor tummy, which has basically been tortured daily for over a week at this point… that is until my gf wanted to make it worse again and got me another breakfast sandwich this morning (seriously God bless my gf) so, now on my day off, I’m in bed gently trying to soothe my abused belly enough to eat my next pile of junk, probably frozen pizza or noodles. Rubbing your own tummy just isn’t the same tho 😪
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the-cooler-newton · 1 year
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god damn i gotta write some fucken words about what happened during my last session of disco elysium cus its been a couple days and I am still reeling.
buckle up its a long one.
It all started when I spoke to the wind (shoutout Shivers, one of the most skills of all time), then teleported to the roof of a building [100% real] [not clickbait] (Kim would say I just climbed up with my eyes closed but he doesn't know what he's talking about)
in the basement of the building the game makes it obvious that I'm about to cross a point of no return, and I should make sure I've tied up my loose ends with people before I continue. (a small puddle of dread settles in my stomach. whatever is about to happen probably won't be good).
I press on and we find the woman we've been looking for, Ruby - at this point, the prime suspect for the murder investigation. She shoots some kind of sonic end-of-the-world ray at us (wild) which incapacitates us with Excruciating Brain Noise Pain (wild). then she tells me I apparently used to work for one of the most notorious criminals in the city. this is news to me, but finding out I used to be Corrupt Cop SupremeTM is about to be one of the least stressful parts of my day.
I ask Ruby a lot of questions; about her drug trade, about the dead man, about Klaasje, and about who I was before I deep-fried my brain, because for some reason she knows. It becomes clear that she didn’t commit the murder, and that Klaasje has lied to us. Going to have to talk to her once we get out of this (*looks into camera*).
When I finally manage to knock over Ruby’s noise ray, she pulls a gun - not on me, on herself. She doesn’t see a world in which she gets out of that basement alive and doesn’t spend the rest of her life as a fugitive, from the law as well as from the crime syndicate we both, apparently, used to be part of.
I fail the check to convince her not to kill herself. She blows her brains out right in front of me.
I proceed to do what we in the biz call “freak the fuck out“. Kim, on the other hand, seems to remain mostly levelheaded. He calmly walks me through what we need to do with the body, and what our next steps should be.
Part of my brain whispers, “Professionalism is his coping mechanism.” The statement feels like a punch to the gut. Professionalism is his coping mechanism - yeah. of course it is. that makes perfect sense. He’s the professional, he’s the one that started the week knowing how to do his job. This entire game has been a series of me freaking the fuck out and him patiently keeping me anchored.
I think, surely this will be the worst thing that happens today. Surely these will be the most intense emotions I experience this session. Surely.
We leave the basement and start making our way back to the Whirling. About halfway there, something in my brain tells me to get my gun out. (The large pond of dread in my stomach grows).
Outside the Whirling, 3 mercenaries in heavy white armour matching the type we found on the dead man in the tree stand before the Hardie boys, the group of Union-hired vigilante peacekeepers who confessed to putting him there.
Well, shit. Time to do my stupid fucking job.
Me and Kim step into the space between them, and try to explain to the mercenaries that the Hardie Boys are not the people that killed their friend. But we haven’t solved the goddamn murder yet, so I cant tell them who actually did. And the Hardie Boys were the ones who put him in that tree and left him to rot for weeks. Also, Klaasje’s fucken booked it, and so has the company representative who’s supposed to be in charge of the mercenaries.
I try, over and over, to get the mercs to calm down, step back, and rethink what they’re about to do. But they’re drunk. And they’re angry. And they just want to shoot someone about it.
So, I shoot them first. and then they shoot me back.
Now I’m on the ground, barely conscious, with Kim on his knees next to me, trying to stop me from bleeding out. And I think... could I die here?
Then a figure in white armour appears behind Kim, gun raised, the last of the mercs still standing at this point. Kim doesn’t notice her - he’s too busy trying to keep my blood inside my body, and telling me to stay awake. And I think, holy shit. Could *Kim* die here???
There’s an Authority check.
Its an Authority check because it isn’t a check for if I can warn him. Its a check for whether or not he listens to me.
I get a +1 modifier, because “The lieutenant trusts you.”
I get further +2 modifier, because “Kim *truly* trusts you.”
First of all, masterful use of the power of names there, Disco Elysium. I raise my glass.
Secondly, holy shit I have never been more ecstatic about modifiers for a check. Are you kidding? This game’s ability to emotionally destroy me with a simple +1 or +2?? Making the impact and strength of interpersonal relationships tangible and explicit through the medium of “game mechanic” ??  yes bitch sew that shit into the fabric of the world and the lens through which I view it. beautiful showstopping brilliant.
Thirdly, oh my god Kim trusts me. He truly trusts me. He trusts me enough to save his life. I turn away from my computer and punch the air for a couple seconds in victory, because I am so very stressed and also so very happy and I gotta let that energy out somehow. I’m about to die probably but I feel like I’ve won the game.
I pass the Authority check.
With the last of my fading strength, I warn Kim about the mercenary behind him. He turns and shoots at her, and then I’m gone, sunk below the surface into the black screen of unconsciousness where only Ancient Reptilian Brain and Limbic System can find me.
They’re assholes, as usual. I wonder if I’m dead.
But I’m not dead. And eventually, my brain starts to boot back up.
“He can’t go,” Volition says. “Not before the case is solved.”
“He is the infernal engine,” Limbic System hisses. “He never stops. He only gets worse.”
When I wake up, I’m back in my room in the Whirling-In-Rags, except its looking a lot cleaner than the last time I saw it. And Kim is there - a little beat up, but alive. “Sunrise, parabellum,” he says. Sunrise, prepare for war. 
Apparently, I’ve been out for 2 days. I ask him what happened, and he gives me a very succinct and Professional recap. All 3 of the mercenaries are dead - Kim and I both have at least one confirmed kill, there. 3 of the Hardie boys are dead too - one took a bullet meant for Kim, and Empathy tells me that isn’t the first time someone’s died in his place. He lights a cigarette. He reports that the situation between the Union and the companies involved is tense, but hasn’t exploded. War has not descended just yet.
“And...” he says with a smile. “We are still alive. Both of us.”
Rhetoric tells me Kim didn’t expect us to step into the middle of that confrontation and both survive.
I ask if he’s hurt. He says “Not very,” even though I can tell he took a beating. He says he has a concussion, but that things would have been worse if I hadn’t warned him about the last merc.
“Thank you,” he says. “I did not see her coming. Stupid of me...”
Stupid of me. I close my eyes for a moment to have a complex emotion and a few deep breaths.
I ask how badly I’m hurt. Kim tells me I was shot in the thigh, but no major arteries were damaged. “The bullet was removed and a bacterial infection treated with mercurochrome,” he says. Passive language; professional. I ask if anyone from my station has arrived. He says he reported the situation, but no-one has turned up yet.
I ask, “If not my station, then who treated me?“
Kim replies, “I did.”
And I have to restart my brain - my real one, the one I keep my emotions in. Are you kidding? He pulled that bullet out of my leg? He treated the infection? He took care of me while I was unconscious for two days? Oh my god. Oh my god.
When I get up, I notice that the door that connects our rooms together is unlocked. He says he got the manager to open it because I was running a fever during the first night due to the infection, so he had to keep checking on me. When I thank him for keeping me alive, he says it would’ve been easier if he wasn’t concussed.
And I. hooh. I try to be normal about this and I fail miserably because for real??? He did all that?? and with a concussion?? Kim, of course, is being professional about it and saying its all part of his training. but god damn. you cannot just put scenes like this - a series of scenes like this! in a video game and expect me to come out of it alive. my heart cant take it. im too soft. ill have to take 3-5 business days to turn everything over in my head like a rotisserie chicken and write a 1800 word tumblr post to cope.
after i finish short-circuiting, Kim and I go over the case one more time. yeah, the case, the murder investigation, the reason we’re here. feels kind of far away, now. But we have a job to do.
Klaasje left a bullet trajectory on the roof, red string taped to a window, pointing out from the murder scene to a small island in the bay. She lied to us before, but she was there when the hanged man ate lead, and this is the last thing she did before she skipped town.
Kim looks tired, as if, for the first time during the course of the game, the last thing he wants to do is investigate this godforsaken murder. But seven people died two days ago because of this murder, and this red string is all we’ve got.
I say, “Kim, lets go to the fucking island.”
and he says, “Okay, let’s go to the fucking island.”
then I close the game and stare at my keyboard in silence for 45 minutes.
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mariacallous · 5 months
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This week marked the Halifax Security Forum. Held in chilly Canada, this forum is similar to Aspen and Munich in its appeal to politicians who wish to be seen as serious on defense, and the hawkish commentators and think tanks that want to enable them. The HSF agenda included a variety of – well, let’s call them “creatively-named” – panels on security and defense, but I was more struck by one observation from attending journalists in Politico:
“The five U.S. Senators and one House member in Halifax, often holding private sessions with foreign officials in what their staff called the “command center,” said they didn’t hear any skepticism about American resolve behind closed doors.” 
As the Economist editor Shashank Joshi put it over on X, that’s a statement that makes “you wonder whether U.S. lawmakers are being fed, and are willfully drinking, Kool-Aid.”
It doesn’t surprise me, though. During visits to several European countries in the last couple of months, I kept hearing similar sentiments. Foreign policy folks across the pond might agree that U.S. domestic politics is increasingly risky, but tend to argue that America will still able and willing to step up if needed. When asked about backup plans – the ways in which U.S. allies are hedging against the worst outcomes – they mostly demur.
To close observers of U.S. domestic politics, however, the idea that America today is the basket in which one would wish to put all one's eggs is somewhat stupefying. Congress just defenestrated one speaker of the house and took three weeks to find a new one; it remains unclear whether the new speaker will be willing to put a Ukraine aid package on the floor. Donald Trump is neck-and-neck with Joe Biden in early 2024 polls, and even if Biden is re-elected, there are strategic and budgetary headwinds that call into question the ability of the US to stay committed in Europe for the long-term.
So why aren’t European states hedging more?
It’s not that they don’t recognize the problem. There has clearly been at least some shift in attitude among policymakers across Europe, and states have made significant progress on defense in the last few years, perhaps more than anyone could have imagined prior to the Russian invasion of Ukraine. But the question of whether that response has been sufficient is a different one. The German Zeitenwende, for example, though initially promising a significant investment of $100 billion in defense, turned out to be a smaller commitment in practice: split over multiple years, and time-limited, with no guarantee of renewal after the first four years. The European Union’s commitment to supply Ukraine with a million artillery rounds by the end of 2023 will fall short.
Europe’s progress on defense is real. It’s also slow, fragmented and perhaps too little, too late. Consider this recent news:
“Several countries — including Germany, Britain and Norway — are increasing production of weapons, especially the artillery ammunition that Ukraine so badly needs. Germany, once a laggard in providing aid to Ukraine, announced a week ago that it planned to double its support to $8.5 billion in 2024 and would deliver more crucial air-defense systems by the end of this year and European Union states are gearing up to train an additional 10,000 Ukrainian soldiers, bringing the total so far to 40,000.”
This shift has come as doubts rise about future U.S. funding, with congressional battles over the speakership and a rolling, looming government funding and shutdown threat. It’s still unclear whether – or in what form – further funding to Ukraine might make it to the floor for a vote, prompting a mad scramble by European states to fill whatever gaps they can. The chaos looks remarkably similar to the post-February 2022 European pivot on defense, when it took the Trump presidency plus a full-blown Russian invasion of Ukraine to push even moderate European investments in defense.
It’s worth taking a step back to ask just why it is that Europe cannot get its act together on defense until the situation is truly dire. Perhaps, as some argue, Europeans are simply unwilling to commit the resources necessary to provide for their own defense, preferring to rely on Uncle Sucker? Perhaps some believe even in a post-Ukraine, post-Trump world that there is no need for a strong homegrown defense? Or perhaps, as Bob Kagan once infamously argued, it’s because Europeans are from Venus and Americans are from Mars?
Nah.
The attempt to build a coherent, centralized Europe-wide defense tends to fail because of a unique set of pathologies almost entirely encapsulated by Henry Kissinger's famous remark about Europe. Even as it has become far clearer who to call with regard to monetary policy, migration, or trade, there’s still no obvious answer on defense and foreign policy.
The European Union is, to put it bluntly, a bunch of states in a trenchcoat pretending to be a foreign policy superpower. Here are the basic problems:
1.     Smaller nations inside Europe – primarily those added to NATO since the end of the cold war – trust their Western European neighbors less than they do the United States, and fear abandonment in the case of a conflict. The Baltic states, for example, view French and German willingness to treat with the Russians after the 2014 seizure of Crimea as evidence of Western European fecklessness. With the countries that are richest and most capable of providing defense predominantly located in Western Europe, and smaller, poorer countries most in need of defense in Eastern Europe, the stage is easily set for fears of abandonment.1
2.     Institutional and bureaucratic turf wars make it harder to figure out which institutions should be responsible for coordinating European defense. NATO and the European Union do not play as well together as one might assume, and fears about either duplicating NATO capabilities or undermining the alliance have often undermined nascent attempts to build EU capacity over the years. More generally, there are bureaucratic incentives for both institutions to lay claim to important programs, which can be high-profile and potentially lucrative, at least in terms of budgetary share. The result has been a tangled mess of strategic and tactical divisions between NATO and nascent European union programs.
This is improving over time, with NATO increasingly tending towards actual defense and contingency management (which requires command structures), and the EU increasingly focusing on procurement of capabilities and the development of a defense industrial base. But it should be no surprise to anyone that these two approaches sometimes conflict, and the departure of one of Europe’s most militarily capable states from the EU leaves UK-EU-NATO cooperation as another potential bureaucratic morass.
3.     There is no common “European” threat perception, and therefore no common European strategy. The EU is a sprawling, cross-national entity that stretches from the Baltic Sea to the Mediterranean and from the Atlantic Ocean to the Carpathian Mountains. For states in the south, Mediterranean security and the migrant crisis are the predominant concern; for those in the east, it remains Russia; and Finland, Norway and impending member Sweden add concerns about Arctic security. Unsurprisingly, the EU’s Strategic Compass, published last year for the first time, mimicked an American National Security Strategy by simply including every threat, moving no closer to agreement on this question.
4.     A lack of common threat perceptions and fears of abandonment means states may invest in defense systems that are best suited to their own defense needs – or more cynically, in systems that are high-profile and appeal to politicians. This leaves capability gaps on a Europe-wide basis. The plug-and play-model of defense proposed in the strategic compass – particularly the EU “Rapid Deployment Capacity” – is one potential solution to the technical side of this problem, but it does not reduce the fears of abandonment that might lead to states to prioritize redundant systems.
[As an aside, I should note here that it’s true that generations of U.S. policymakers actively worked to enhance these concerns. They made it more difficult for European states to work together on defense, while sustaining the U.S. presence in Europe in the hopes of prolonging American military primacy. But U.S. policy was never the only problem. Just as Russian election-meddling highlights divisions that are already there in countries around the world, the U.S. was simply capitalizing on existing European divisions. Meanwhile, NATO and EU expansion made these problems more acute. The more useful and interesting question for today is whether Europe can overcome these problems even in the absence of U.S. opposition.]
5.     The defense industrial base and military procurement offer specific, problematic incentives to policymakers across the continent. Just as “Buy American” creates pathologies in the U.S. procurement system, parochialism in purchasing across European states leads to substandard distribution of production across Europe. The worst of this is the frequent duplication of high-profile programs like fighter jets, but there are also significant inefficiencies in the distribution of production of ammunition and arms. The political fallout from choosing the wrong system – along with a desire to keep the United States hooked into European defense for the long-term – has often led policymakers in European states to simply opt for American equipment instead. As Jeremy Shapiro and Jana Puglierin put it, such choices keep the European defense industrial base weak, and “create dependencies that will last for decades.”2
6.     A final problem is speed: European elites are relatively comfortable with gradual processes of agglomeration that place increasing regulatory and administrative power in the hands of Brussels, while making trade-offs that allow member-state elites to sell those shifts at home. The common market, for example, was a victory over the forces of parochialism in agriculture and trade; the Euro was the culmination of a several-decade process of negotiation over how much sovereignty states might be willing to cede on fiscal and monetary policy. The current project of European defense development actually looks remarkably like these other processes. If policymakers believe that defense will be similar to other parts of the European project - a decades-long gradual shift towards evermore shared responsibility for defense - then their time-horizons may well be out-of-step with reality.
The list of problems isn’t endless, but it’s pretty damn long. Europe has been able to manage these disagreements on defense for decades, thanks largely to the American willingness to paper over European collective action problems in the name of the common defense. Today, they’re resurfacing.
And even with newly found willpower and the prospect of losing the U.S. backstop to European defense, these problems will not be easily overcome. They help to explain why, even faced with the prospect of a second Trump presidency, many European foreign policy hands are still whistling past the graveyard on defense, hoping instead for a second Biden administration, and praying that they will have the time to construct European defense as a generational project, without too many costly political and economic choices.
It seems an increasingly risky bet.  
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Not to mention budgetary issues. It’s not quite as simple as offering Eurobonds or taking on debt to build a common defense. https://www.csis.org/analysis/who-ultimate-european-taxpayer-understanding-problem-european-sovereign-debt
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un-nonymous · 2 years
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So I started seeing an ADHD coach about a month ago. She’s the second one I’ve seen in 3 months and the first who doesn’t take insurance, but I really like her.
She said I’m an overachiever today, or that I have those tendencies anyway, and she’s the second person who’s said that to me in the past week. Legitimately, I’ve never seen myself that way. Never. I feel like I’m always behind, always catching up, everyone is doing more than me. Always.
It’s an interesting experience, being in this type of coaching, because (stay with me on this) I feel like I’m paying someone a lot of money to essentially read me things I’ve already read on the internet. And that’s because I think she’s really good at her job.
In sessions, I feel amazing. Heard, understood, validated. And then I digest a little and I’m like, damn. I could’ve googled that. I have googled that. What’s the difference now?
The difference is the immediate responses and thoughtful compassion I (we) don’t get from words on a screen written to an anonymous audience. I wish I had done this a long time ago.
I’m grateful to have a supportive presence in my life finally who sees me AND will call me out from a place of awareness. She gently preaches and encourages radical self acceptance and I’m finally listening and taking the babiest of steps. Googling it for 15 years hasn’t worked and I can admit that now. Figuring it out on my own hasn’t worked, therapy hasn’t worked (because we’ve focused on all the other hard shit I’ve grappled with in the past 3 years instead) and I need something specific, and I’m ready to do something about it.
This has been a really fucking hard month because I’m facing shit I’ve been masking and things about me that I’ve gotten really good at keeping hidden from most everyone in my life. A lot of it deals with work, but not all of it. I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to fit into a neurotypical professional world and being shamed and feeling awful for it.
My best friend says I’m the best storyteller she’s ever met while I’m wishing I could be more concise and regularly qualifying what I’m about to say by starting with “brevity isn’t my strong suit” and using “long story long” to signal when I’m finally about to land the plane. I think, often, that it drives people nuts and the impact of the one piece of negative feedback I’ve gotten about this (when I was interviewing for the job I have now, by someone who regularly gets chastised for taking forever to get to the point) is far heavier than all the compliments I’ve gotten about it, because brains are jerks.
I don’t think I’m in the right job to truly flourish and one day I need to figure that out because I LOVE my current job a whole fucking lot. It’s more that I’m struggling keeping this Big Thing About Me™️ hidden, but I’m actively choosing that. If you ask me why, I’ll tell you construction is a tough industry for “overhead” (support) roles like mine that I can do anywhere else for probably lots more money at this point, but I still choose it because I really like being a big fish in a small pond. I really, really like that. And then I’ll say I have enough stacked against me: I’m a woman, I’m “young” (I’m not, but people don’t think I’m as old as I am which is not a humblebrag), I have tattoos and bleached hair and a nose ring and a fancy degree and my job is to teach crusty superintendents how to feel their feelings at work, why are the youths so sensitive these days anyway, etc., — so in my mind, I don’t need to be known for having an attention disorder on top of everything else.
That’s what I’ll tell you, at least. In reality, I don’t think it matters what industry I’m in because I’ve had both great and fucking terrible bosses in all of them. I’ve doubted myself in all of them at some point and I could draw up a litany of reasons why I’d want to keep this to myself in all of them, when really I want to be acknowledged for it and more than that I want to be able to relate to others, and help others from a place of “I get it, I actually do”, but I can’t do that where I am right now. I am terrified of going off on my own is the truth, but I want to, and it’s just a matter of when at this point.
Today was a good session. I see her every Monday afternoon and honestly, I can’t wait to see how things are going 6 months from now.
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No Change
And so it goes on, France burns, England gets drier and drier and now finally an official drought has been declared - next week therefore in true British fashion it will rain.  Leaving cynicism aside, we are forecast some storms and rain from about Tuesday afternoon and on through Wednesday but the satellite picture seems hit and miss and we could be unlucky.  We hope not.  As we are back in the mid thirties for a run of 5 days, the only difference to the very high temperatures of July is that the nights are a bit cooler and are in fact providing a considerable dew.  So much so that we can see green shoots of grass already starting to emerge and our walking boots are pretty wet from the 06.00 starts with the dogs.  Watering continues but we are beginning to use all the bathwater each day by baling it into flagons for some lucky recipient in the garden.  The hose is used only for the vegetables which are just keeping going.
Sowing more salad seeds is nearly impossible but the landcress has germinated and so have the Winter Density Lettuce - the radicchio has also popped up but the seed tray is in constant shade.  The tomatoes however are fantastic, I have never had such a crop.  Courgettes hopeless, I think the special Italian variety have not stood the heat and lack of water nearly as well as the good F1 hybrid such as Defender - I have piled water on but they are sick and sad - will not be growing them again despite the success of last year.
The Novice Working Test in sugar beet was cancelled for today which was a relief - it would have been dangerous for man and beast.  However the training session on Tuesday night went ahead and we learned a great deal more.  Bertha was starting to overboil with all the excitement so at a lesson on Thursday morning we went back to basics which I will continue with until the next big training day on 31 Aug which is walking up in beet again.  The Test has been postponed to September 18th which gives us plenty of time to settle her again.
Wildlife struggles, the birds love the bird bath as all the ponds on the common are dry.  The swifts slipped away quite early this year - first week of August and they were gone.  The third brood of swallows have fledged which is always such a joy - just 3 but that means 8 for the year and one complete failure.  Pretty good considering the weather - they have to go quite a long way for water but the reservoir pond on Mark Robersons farm still holds a good level of water and in the evening when we walk the dogs that way we can see the swallows dipping and diving sipping water.  My favourite sight though are the moorhens who must be pretty desperate who sit in the bird bath about every hour!!  The water is warm but they dont seem to mind.
It will be interesting to see what we have actually lost in the garden. Certainly one birch tree - I have a little baby one in a pot and I would suspect a number of perennials.  I am always amazed at how the roses survive and do quite well.  The new Amelie Nothombs are a huge success but another interesting observation has been how the new bloom in the morning, looking fresh and beautiful gets burned during the day and by evening the petals are completely crisp and browned.  Despite this the plants are throwing out masses of new growth and look incredibly healthy.  This is a good rose!!
HORTA
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cobrakaisb · 3 years
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5 times robby fell in love with you + 1 time he actually said it
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requested: no
a/n: hey besties it’s been a hot minute! i promise that part two of modern day romeo and juliet is in the works but here is a little robby imagine because i have been in my robby feels lately. :)
summary: read the title besties :) you and robby are already dating in this imagine. 
word count: 1832
one: wheel training
“i don’t know about this mr. larusso,” you mumble as you take your sweatshirt off to climb into the pond. robby was already in there, shivering from the coolness of the water. “you’ll be fine y/n,” mr. larusso says encouragingly. you nod, slowly entering the shallow pond with robby’s help. together the two of you approach the wheel in the middle, each of you on your respective sides. “okay now climb on,” mr. larusso instructs, and you look nervously at robby, who just nods. together the two of you climb onto the wheel.
after countless tries and many failed attempts the two of you were able to perform the technique semi-decently. “we did it!” you shout as you come up from the water. robby and mr. larusso laugh at your excitement. you splash some water up in the air, laughing as the droplets hit your skin on the way down. robby looks at you adoringly, a smile on his face. “alright you two, that’s enough for today. i’ll see you tomorrow,” mr. larusso says, smiling at the two of you as he walks towards the house. 
once he’s inside the house, robby wades through the water to you. “we did it robby!” you cheer, throwing your arms around his shoulders, a proud smile on your face. “yes we did baby,” he answers, resting his forehead against yours. “just imagine us doing that in a fight! we’d be unstoppable!” you exclaim and robby just nods his head. he wasn’t really paying attention to what you were saying, instead he was thinking about how happy you made him and how contagious your smile was.    
two: during the mall fight
“get behind me,” you instruct demetri, pushing the tall boy behind you, while sam took care of the others. “back off,” sam tells hawk, and you nod your head, getting into your fighting stance. hawk scoffs at the three of you. “i don’t want to have to hit a girl,” he says, looking between you and sam. now it was your turn to scoff. “funny how you think you’d even stand a chance against us,” you say confidently. now robby was beside you, the three of you covering demetri.
“five against four. more like three and a half,” hawk remarks, nodding towards his friends, signaling the start of the fight. you were fighting off two boys in the back while robby was fighting off two of them in the front. sam was taking care of some boy towards the middle of the group, while demetri just stood in the center, not fighting anyone. slowly, one by one, you and your friends had taken down the cobra kais, well all of them except for hawk. 
you look over your shoulder to see hawk charging towards you robby, who was cornered up against a table. you knew that robby could handle himself, but a wave of protectiveness washed over you. the next thing you know, hawk was lying on the floor of the food court while you stood in front of robby. everyone ohed at the sight of hawk lying on the ground, but you didn’t pay them any mind. you turn to face robby, grabbing his face in your hands. “are you alright?” you ask, looking over him worriedly. robby chuckled at you, pulling you into a tight hug. “i’m fine baby, thank you,” he answers with nothing but admiration in his voice as he kisses your forehead.  
three: he catches you singing
robby jogs up the stairs to your room. today the two of you were taking a break from karate and planning on watching a movie together. robby knocks on the door, but there was no answer. he cracks the door open and sees you jumping around your room. you were wearing one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, your hair brush in your hand, as you belted out the lyrics to teenage dirtbag. “oh yeah! dirtbag!” you sing along with zayn malik. robby smiles as he watches you sing and dance around the room. 
now you were standing in front of your mirror, pointing to yourself as you sang, completely engrossed in the song. at one point you tilt your head back, really getting into it. robby continues to watch you sing the song, a loving smile on his face the entire time. he only makes himself known when he claps his hands once the song ends. you freeze, turning towards the door where your boyfriend is clapping. a blush immediately coats your cheeks, as you throw your hairbrush on your bed. 
“i didn’t take you as a singer y/n,” robby points out, stepping into your room. your blush turns an even deeper shade of red as you look away from his hazel eyes. robby closes the distance between the two of you, placing a loving kiss on your lips. “i thought it was cute,” robby confesses once you seperate. “especially since you’re wearing my shirt,” he continues, a giggle escaping your mouth. “stop being cheesy,” you say, pushing him away from you. “but you love it,” he remarks, sitting down on your bed. you roll your eyes, “i guess.”    
four: your date at the roller rink
it was 80s night at the roller rink, and you and robby were long overdue for a date night. you and robby decided to go as people from the outsiders. robby as a soc and you as a greaser. “an enemies to lovers typa beat,” you explain, fixing his jacket. robby just nods along, too busy admiring you in your ripped jeans and leather jacket. 
“i’ll go get the skates. wait here,” robby says, kissing your cheek as he walks towards the rental counter. shortly after, robby comes back with two pairs of skates. “thanks robby,” you say, placing a chaste kiss on his lips as he sits down on the bench next to you. “okay ready?” robby asks, and you nod, grabbing his hand as the two of you head over to the roller rink. 
together you skate leisurely around the rink. laughing and singing along to the 80s songs that the dj is playing. while the two of you are skating hand in hand when the song i would die 4 u by prince comes on. “oh my gosh! i love this song!” you cheer, excitement all over your face. robby chuckled at your words, “i know. i may have put in a request with the dj.” you smile so big when robby said that. “you’re the best robby,” you say, and robby could tell that your words were genuine. robby just smiled at you, listening to you sing along with prince.       
five: midnight baking session
you couldn’t sleep. it was 12:00 at night, and you could not fall asleep. robby on the other hand, was fast asleep. well you thought he was fast asleep when you left your room to go to the kitchen. it turns out that robby wasn’t asleep because he was now standing in the kitchen, watching as you grabbed different ingredients. “what are you doing y/n? it’s twelve am,” robby asks, a tired yawn escaping him. “i couldn’t sleep so i decided to make some brownies. want to help?” you ask him, and you're practically begging him with your eyes to say yes. “why not,” robby mumbles, joining you. 
“yes! okay so can you go get the medium saucepan? it’s in that cabinet over there,” you instruct, pointing towards the cabinet. robby nods tiredly and gets you the pan, wrapping his arms around your waist once he brings it to you. “tired?” you ask him, measuring out the flour. “just a bit,” robby replies, resting his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck. you giggle, moving your head away from him. “stop that tickles,” you say, looking at the snoop dogg cookbook. 
about forty minutes later, you and robby are sitting on the couch watching friends and eating brownie sundaes. “these brownies are so good,” robby says, basically moaning at the taste. “yeah babe? do you like them?” you ask, cuddled up to his side. robby nods vigorously. “they are so good. you better make these more often,” he says, looking at you. “i will,” you promise and robby nods gratefully. the two of you continue to watch the show and eat your ice cream.
“hey i’m done. do you want me to put your bowl in the sink?” robby asks, sitting up from his spot on the couch. “yes please,” you respond, handing him the empty bowl. robby takes it from you, but not before placing a kiss on your cheek. “what was that for?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “you had some chocolate there, and maybe i just wanted to kiss you,” robby replies and a huge smile encompasses your face. 
it was now three am and george lopez was playing. you were asleep on robby’s chest, while he was watching the show. “i love you robby,” you mumble tiredly, cuddling into his chest more. robby tenses at your words, but he smiles and places a kiss on your forehead, quietly repeating the phrase back to you.    
one: when you visit him in jail
you sat down at the table, waiting for robby to come out. you were fidgeting with the tupperware of brownies you brought for him. even though you had come to visit robby multiple times, you always got nervous waiting for him. the door opened and teenage boys were walking into the room. your eyes immediately searching for robby. he saw you right away, and walked over to your table.
“hi robby,” you say quietly once he sits down. robby gives you a small smile, “hi baby.” it was quiet for a minute, but you quickly broke the silence by shoving the tupperware container towards him. “i made you brownies. the snoop dogg ones because they’re your favorite,” you explain and robby smiles widely at you, grabbing your hand that was resting on the table. 
“thanks. i’ll eat them as soon as i can,” he says truthfully. “are you okay? they haven’t been bugging you have they?” you ask him quietly, looking over his face for any bruises or cuts. robby chuckles at how worried you are. “i’m fine y/n, i promise. you don’t need to worry about me,” robby says and you roll your eyes at him. “i worry because i care and because i love you,” you answer, casually slipping that three word phrase in there. robby sits there in shock for a minute before an even bigger smile takes over his face. “i love you too y/n,” he says, squeezing your hand. a smile as big as robby’s takes over your face too. 
“so what’s been going on?” robby asks and you immediately jump into a ramble about the newest book that you’ve been reading. meanwhile, robby just smiles, proud of himself for finally telling you how he feels. 
taglist: @iwantahockeyhimbo @estupidteen​ @funprincess101​ @mrfeenyisswag   
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➳all the king's men ♡ ☾
in which all the king's men couldn't put the pieces of y/n l/n together. we all have the days where we're insecure and broken, this is one of hers.
fred weasley x fem!reader
word count: ±1.8k
tw: insecurity, bullying
please if you are having overly harmful thoughts about yourself, talk to a friend or a professional. you are perfect the way you are and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!
drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!
my masterlist:D
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it's so sad that the best people tend to think the worst of themselves
all the king's men
y/n, for lack of a better description, was feeling like humpty dumpty. she had seen herself in the mirror last night, and felt positively traumatised. she had come back from a quidditch practice session, and the results were quite terrifying.
she didn't understand. quidditch made the guys more toned and even a few of her teammates had abs. what did it do to her? well, it made her shoulders broad, which she thought was highly unattractive to anyone, and not at all slim! sure, it was fun and kept her fit, but terribly horrible, in her opinion, in trying to fit in to the beautiful girls that went to hogwarts.
she admired angie johnson and cho chang and ginny. she really did. y/n knew how hard it was to be beautiful, and she liked when other people were so beautifully beautiful. it just made her feel terrible, because what was the chance of her keeping her boyfriend in fred weasley when fiercely pretty girls were dancing elegantly around her?
there wasn't any time to be mopey and sad, so she gathered all her books and immediately went to breakfast. she didn't even bother going over to fred and greeting him. she saw how happy he was laughing with george and lee. surely she wouldn't bother him. instead she plopped down next to alicia.
"you ok?" alicia spinnet asked her.
she nodded, "fine."
"you sure?"
"no."
"wanna talk about it?"
"do you think it's too early to get plastic surgery?" y/n joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"what the fuck, no. what's up?" alicia's eyes were lit with concern.
"i don't feel pretty," her voice was but a whisper.
alicia caught it.
"why? you're literally adorable."
"you're my best friend, you're supposed to tell me that."
"hmm, nah, i truly believe it."
"well i don't," y/n said miserably.
"oi, l/n, your hair down today?" adrian pucey snarled, "it's gonna give me aids."
a few students snorted.
"you can get aids then. shut your mouth," y/n retorted back.
the whole school look startled. was this the same, prefect, goody-two-shoes y/n l/n?
adrian pucey opened his mouth.
"i said shut. your. mouth."
fred weasley watched in a mixture of furiousness and pride. he knew that pucey had a crush on y/n too. he was just terrible in expressing it. fred didn't like the way y/n's eyes sadly flitted to alicia afterwards. and she hadn't come up to him and given him a kiss today. maybe she just wanted a bit of space??
"see?" y/n sighed, "not even my hair is pretty." she tied it up.
alicia laughed, "adrian just wants your attention."
that made y/n laugh. "why? why?" it was a rhetorical question. she got up, and smiled at adrian in the most menacing way that he shrunk.
"miss l/n, your outburst was quite rude-" snape began.
"my apologies professor, of course, i was in the wrong. adrian pucey brought the topic surrounding my hair up, called it ugly. now what would you do if a student called your hair ugly?" y/n said, eyes burning with fury but conscience too good to lose her temper.
"i-i would give them a scolding."
"likewise. good day, professor."
"fucking hell, he is such a sh-" alicia muttered as she got up and followed y/n out to class.
"ali, that's enough," their retreating voices could be heard.
fred kept his eye on y/n through the day, giving her the space he thought she needed.
she looked very like her normal self, until she encountered pucey again.
"l/n, nice squinty eyes," pucey laughed.
y/n's shoulders sagged. her eyes dimmed and she let her ponytail fall in front of her face.
"ponytail won't fix them," he laughed meanly, "can they fix your dumpling body?"
fred frowned deeply, "fuck off, adrian," he angrily said, "that's my girlfriend you're talking to."
"oh, you have someone like weasley to save you? i don't even think you deserve him as a boyfriend."
y/n didn't answer, fearing that tears would spill out of her eyes. she had just been feeling worse and worse about herself. instead, when the bell signalled the end of classes, she hurried quickly off to wherever, trying to pull herself together.
she felt like she was at the bottom of the earth. her eyes finally let go of the tears that needed to be spilt. she leant sobbing against a stout tree in the forbidden forest, head slumped gloomily against the trunk, eyes trying to find anything, anything, that could be remotely comforting and hands fiddling nervously with the flowers that bloomed happily around her. her whole body shook in anxiety. she wished she had her mum or dad here to help her. but they were back at home.
how did fred love her?
she wished she didn't have stupid hair or squinty eyes or a dumpling body. but she couldn't ignore the mean, yet so true, remarks about her body adrian made. they were morally wrong and he deserved to be stabbed, but they were factual. she used to just laugh and joke about him too, but now she realised that maybe she should pay more attention to the way she eats and works and the way she talks and looks and presents herself and put more makeup on and-
fred found her crying there, by the little pond, shrinking away from the mere sight of her own appearance. he didn't get it.
well, he did, but he didn't know why such a beautiful girl like his girlfriend was crying.
"y/n?"
she flinched and stopped crying.
"sorry, i'll leave. i don't think you want a dumpling of a girlfriend sharing this nice space," she attempted to joke, but it fell short. she wasn't joking anymore. her tone was serious and genuine. the unexpected good nature pucey's remarks were received in usually was gone, and for good reason. it had broken her into the tiniest little pieces.
fred felt it. he felt his heart stop.
"is this about what pucey said to you, lovely?" he asked gently, cupping her cheek, and pulling her close to him.
she nodded, feeling immensely better already. the smell of him made her calm down insanely.
"so you don't want space?"
"n-no, i was just..." she trailed off uncertainly.
"mhm?" he looked at her and waited.
"it's silly."
"well, it's got you crying, i don't think so."
"the stuff a-adrian says is true," her voice was quiet and small.
fred frowned.
"i'm not cute or elegant or even hot," she continued, "i-i'm not as pretty as anyone here."
"well, my little love, if my opinion even matters, you are stunning. i think you're the prettiest person in the world, both on skin and in here," he patted his own heart, "do you know how long i pined after you?"
"no?"
"i'm still pining after you, gorgeous."
"d-do you mean it when you say gorgeous?" her eyes were broken and teary.
"of course. it hurts me when you are upset. because you are gorgeous and much more because you are so nice and good to me and to everyone else too. pucey's a complete shithead and when i next see him i will bash his head in. i'm so sorry i didn't notice, love, i thought you were mad at me."
"no it's fine, i just don't understand. you're fred weasley. so many girl's want you and you-you choose...me?," a sad frown was etched on her face, her tone confused.
"y/n, you're my only choice. i don't want the other girls. i can see the appeal of you. i-i know i'm not the best with words like you, but i really care about you. i love you, i adore you, you're the bestest person i've ever met."
and he knows he's brought the happiness back in her. she giggled. he felt relieved, because he knew he wasn't good at all at comforting people and y/n was so special to him- why didn't he say that earlier to her?
"bestest isn't a word, freddie."
"well you get what i mean, right? you're really special to me," there it was.
she nodded slowly, a small smile forming on her lips as she kissed him on the lips, before snuggling closer to him.
"darling, wouldn't you rather go back to the castle to cuddle?"
hesitantly, she shook her head.
"why?"
"'drian's there."
"adrian cannot hurt you, okay? whatever he tells you is wrong. he's wrong," he gently says, pulling her close to him, "besides, if he does, i'm here, and you're strong."
"i just cried about it, i can't be strong."
"crying doesn't mean you're weak, darling, sometimes we all cry and that's okay."
y/n nodded.
"here, i brought this for you, maybe it's a comfort??" he blushed as he handed her his quidditch hoodie.
she grinned and put it on.
he couldn't stop blushing at the sight of her, so he tilted his face away to save himself the embarrassment.
noticing and mistaking his turned away head for disgust, y/n took the hoodie off, downcastedly handing it back to him.
"sorry," she gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as fred looked at her in confusion.
"y-you can have it back, yeah, there's no need to hide your shame, here, s-sorry," she stuttered out.
"shame?" he asked, looking worriedly down at her.
"mhm," she fiddled with the hem of her shirt, "sorry."
he finally understood.
"angel, look at me."
she reluctantly looked up at him.
"i wasn't feeling disgusted at all. i-i was actually embarrassed because i was blushing," his cheeks heated up again, "like i probably am right now. you're too beautiful. i was blushing too much."
"oh."
"yeah. now put it back on," he demanded, as he cheekily tugged the jumper over her head, blushing again as he saw her standing there in his jumper.
"c'mon!" he said, carrying y/n's school bag as they made their way to the castle, his arm wrapped protectively around his waist and the bright gold letters on the back of his sweater shining for anyone and everyone to see.
they didn't see pucey, thank goodness and they ended up talking with george and katie bell and angie and alicia by the fire.
as y/n smiled and giggled with katie over something highly scandalous, fred had his eyes on her, not so much monitoring her, but he couldn't keep them off of her.
when he had noticed her words start to become short and slightly slurred by tiredness, he lead her back to her dormitory.
"feeling better princess?"
she nodded, "you're so good to me, freddie. i love you."
it made his heart swell with happiness.
"i'd go to the moon and back for you, y/n."
she smiled drowsily, "and i, you."
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thevoidscreams · 3 years
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I don't care which slashers/killers you do for this BUT...... May I have some killers hcs meeting their male s/o for the first time? 🥺👉👈
also I know I need to get through what little writings I have planned done and out so I can do these in return and maybe do somethin for ya
I really tried here, I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted. I love these two and I wanted to write more for them. Please let me know if you'd like me to change them at all or if they seem wrong.
Ghostface:
Danny Johnson did not have a tolerant upbringing. His family, despite lacking any sort of faith, was a family built on the foundation that men only slept with women. That's just how it was and that that was how nature had kept things going. When Danny realized he didn't just get hard when looking at naked girls however, life became a lot harder. Literally.
Collage was the escape he needed. He took off and never looked back. Ghosting his family before it was a regular thing. He could finally be who he really was.
The first time he saw you was at a party and he knew something was different. Just introducing himself felt like a life or death situation, he couldn't fuck this up. Some deep part of him needed you to like him, needed you to want him. Danny man not have called it love at first sight but it was definitely something. When you left you took his number and promised to hang out later. You had similar schedules so it would be easy. Right?
You threw a wrench into every plan he'd set in place. All his aspiring affairs with other people died the moment you gave him your name. Your perfect name.
Danny begins every morning thinking about you and would lay down at night with you on his mind till he faded into sleep. Everyday for months you plague his thoughts. Your chill sessions are basically dates in his mind. Even if it's just bumming it on the dorm couches with Mariocart and eating cheap greasy pizza. He cherishes every moment. It has to be more, he thinks, your too nice, too friendly and some of your remarks could be taken as flirting. You're not like this with your other friends. Just with him.
He plans to ask you out but for the first time in his life he's scared by the idea of getting a no. The thought of being rejected by you makes him feel legitimately sick to his stomach. What if he's misread all your signals and your disgusted by his advances. What if you call him all the awful things his old high-school friends did when he came out to them. He needs you to know how he feels, keeping it all in is making him feel anxious.
He was mulling it over in his mind when he got a call, answering it to hear your voice caused a sudden feeling of euphoria within him. "Hey, can we meet up?" Your voice was shaky and you sounded unsure. But Danny agreed right away, assuring you he had the time and was happy to meet up.
You two got coffee together all the time but today there was something more to it. The way you laughed and bumped his shoulder with your fist, the way you smiled awkwardly like you were trying to keep something from him. Danny was getting worried as he looked down at you. "Is everything alright shortstake? You seem off today."
You took a deep breath and looked him right in the eyes. "DannyIlikeyou" you blurted out cheeks red and eyes wide in panic. "I'm sorry I just I couldn't do it anymore," you looked away, "keeping it all in made me feel so awful and I just needed you to know. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way about me and if you don't want to see me again I'll understand that too but-"
He kissed you, right there in front of all of the coffee shop patrons and employees. To his amazement a few people wooped and clapped.
Danny pulled away, he took his coffee in one hand and then your hand in his other.
"Let's go somewhere more private."
He led you to a little pond, there were ducks and water lilies. It was quiet, peaceful, the perfect place to have a heart to heart.
The talk that followed was long and he explained at great lengths how he felt about you.
You confirmed some of the things he suspected, embarrassed by how easily he read you. At the end of it all you were both a bit teary eyed.
"So I guess what I'm trying to say here is, I love you." You did cry after hearing that, so happy and relieved he felt the same way. You kissed him, and he responded in kind, with only the ducks as witnesses this time. They didn't make a peep about the kiss....but they did quack.
Thomas Hewitt:
Tommy knew something was different the first time he met you. You were just a new hire at the meat plant but he couldn't take his eyes off you. The poor thing didn't know what to do. So he just watched. Intrigued by the feelings he felt when he did.
"Good morning Thomas." You'd nod as you passed him to get to your work station. He'd grunt in reply and nod. Happy to see you.
"Hey Tom, lunch time! Thank God for lunch breaks am I right?" Your hand was firm as you passed him, clapping his shoulder. He liked when you touched him, no one ever touched him unless he was also being yelled at. But your touch was different and it was good.
"See ya tomorrow Tommy." You groaned tiredly after a long shift, promising to see him tomorrow. He hoped to see you everyday for the rest of his life.
It was a system, a pattern, it was something Tommy relied on, like a clock, you were on time and followed the routine.
Except this morning, you weren't here. The supervisor was passing by to inspect the work station.
"Where the hell is that freaky bastard at?" He asked pointing to your station. Tommy shrugged, he didn't know, probably the bathroom. "Yeah well you might want to keep your distance, I heard from some the other guys that he's one of them men lovers. If it were up to me he'dhave never come here, but the boss says we're 'short staffed'." The snicker that bubbled up from him was disgusting and he mouthed off a few insults and slurs before walking off to finished his rounds.
Tommy was angry, more than usual at least. He wanted to take that supervisor's head and crush it under his mallet. Instead he stripped his apron off and went to the bathroom. Still a tiny part of him was happy, glad to know he wasn't alone.
The bathroom was never locked, it couldn't be, the lock was broken and building management was too cheap to replace it. So Tommy pushed through the door and listened. A soft rhythmic sound greeted him. Soft uneven breathing, muffled by the walls of the stall. He knew that sound, it was all too personal to him.
He stepped in front of the stall and their sounds turned panicked like they knew they'd been caught.
He knocked on the wood so gently and as it swung open he confirmed his suspensions. Your eyes were red and swollen, a large bruise on your cheek. Tommy saw red as he looked over your generally disheveled appearance.
You were trying to hide the fact that you'd been crying.
"Hey Tommy, what's happening brother? The uh... supervisor send you in here to find me or something?" When you tried to push past him to get to the sinks Thomas stopped you with one big arm.
"Uh you good?" Your voiced trembled and it torn Tommy apart to hear the man he loved so distressed. His big arms pulled you in, holding your smaller body against his massive one. He just didn't care anymore, he didn't care if you knew, or if the whole world knew. People already called him a freak for the way he looked. They were wrong, Thomas wasn't a freak, not for the way he looked or for the way he felt. Neither were you for that matter. When you hugged him back his heart soared. "Thank you." You cried softly, face buried in his chest.
The gentle giant wiped a tear away, carefully as not to agitated the bruise. He grunted and ran his thumb around the edge of the darkening spot.
"Don't worry about that, some of the guys found out about my...well I'm sure you know or have at least heard." Thomas nodded, still holding you. "We should probably get back to our stations."
Tommy was hesitant but he let you go to wash your face and fix your appearance. Things were going to be hard for the both of you. But hard was nothing new to him he was used to fighting for equal footing with others, fighting to get what he wanted always fighting. But this time it really was something worth fighting for. This time it was you.
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aka-ashi-keiji · 3 years
Note
Hi love ! Here is my Shouto Todoroki OS request, quite simple, yet deep: in your opinion, what would it take for Shouto to actually comprehend, then acknowledge his feelings for reader ? Like, I love Slow burns and I think Todoroki's character is perfect for this kind of development. But I wonder how many time it would take him to realize what has been growing in his heart for who knows how long, in a canon way?
Or, to put it in a simple way: How long does it take to Todoroki to come to terms with his feelings, and what does he do about it ? How ?
Here it is, you're absolutely free in this request (But please give us a happy ending with lot of Fluff eidkdud). Thank you so much in advance, ILY ❤💖
Love Made of Broken Iron
Shoto Todoroki
Understanding love, best friends to lovers
One shot, soft angst to fluff
tw: mentions of child abuse.
a/n: this is for one of the kindest mutuals i have! @luluwiie i hope you love this, it was challenging but so so so much fun. hopefully this fulfills your gorgeous request. i love you!
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You waited patiently on the porch as your uniform skirt moved with the early morning wind. The cherry blossom trees had just started to bloom and that fact alone was enough to warm the tips of your frozen fingers as your smile crept to your face. But nonetheless, you were freezing and it seemed as though your companion was running slightly behind schedule. You checked the time on your phone and just like you suspected, Shoto was running 5 minutes late to meet you outside his house.
“God shoto, how long does it take you to slip on a uniform?” You huffed out as you placed your phone back in your pocket and turned to knock on the front door. However, before you even got the chance to, it swung open and duel chromatic eyes stared back into yours.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I made us sandwiches for lunch.” He greeted you in his usual calm but hard front demeanor. Instead of commenting about how cold you were and that he should’ve made lunch faster, you simply took it and placed it in your bag. With that, you both started your commute.
You and Shoto have known each other since you were young, but due to his own family issues you both had just recently become friends. As a child, you always admired his splitone features and the way his eyes lit up in two separate ways when he was excited. At age five, you thought he was cool. But now at age seventeen, you can’t help but think he’s absolutely and utterly gorgeous.
Shoto had accepted your companionship your first year of highschool. Both of you always seemed to keep to your desk and shy away from the large groups, that similarity between you two caused you to naturally gravitate towards him. Asking for his number and inviting him to get coffee with you after school was single handedly the scariest but best idea you have ever committed to. Because if you hadn’t done that, if you had just let that day during your first year continue as always and gone to get coffee by yourself, you wouldn’t be where you are right now.
Currently, Shoto is walking on your right, he always insisted on doing so, just so that he could put some distance between you and the street. Your hands wrapped themselves securely around his forearm closest to you, trying to draw from his warmth. Well, that’s what you told yourself. But, in all honesty you just wanted an excuse to be close to him, to connect to him.
It was embarrassingly obvious how in love with Shoto you were, everyone seemed to notice except for him. And you weren’t the only one to take notice of his beauty and fall for his contrasting features. However, with you it was different, you knew that your romantic feelings couldn’t be grouped together with all of his other admirers. You didn’t fall in love with Shoto just because he was beautiful, but because you were able to connect to him and see past that iron wall he fights so hard to keep up.
Slowly, over the past three years at UA, you found yourself becoming immersed with your own feelings, not entirely sure how to deal with them. Your first year wasn’t too bad, you felt the normal butterflies when he would pat your shoulder when you did something well, one of his only signs of affection. And your cheeks still dusted rose as he would greet you in the morning and compliment something about your hair or the way you wore your uniform. But your second year was drastically different. You had a mere teenage crush on Shoto during your first year, but the amount of time you spent with him the summer after allowed for your feelings to expand to new points you didn’t know your heart was capable of feeling.
The intensity of your love spread like wildfire with every passing day you spent with him in the summer air. You’d find yourself growing overly excited about study sessions you would normally dread due to you thinking summer was your time for a break. And you personally hated silent reading with people around, the silence was uncomfortable. But sitting next to Shoto in your own home, you both on the couch with your legs over his lap, the books you read in silence on those days, that silence was comfortable then.
And if your legs weren’t over his lap, your head found its way to his shoulder or his would fall to yours. His peppermint hair sweeping to the side and tickling the nape of your neck and also covering his observant eyes. But no matter how subtle the touches were, no matter how brief the physical connection, the fire within your heart only blazed warmer.
Shoto was notorious for keeping his distance, but he let you get close. He allowed for you to take part in his interests and he took time to explain to you what he feels and why these things bring him so much joy. He let down his iron wall with you, even if it was just a little. But eventually, you learned what that iron wall was hiding. You come to understand why he’s afraid of boiling water and why he flinches so hard when you hug him without warning. You learned the heart-wrenching story of the scar that covers his sapphire eye, and the damage that it caused and still tolls on him today. You now understood why he always insisted on hanging out with you and anywhere outside of his home. And knowing you could provide that sanction for him ignited your heart’s flames all over once more.
Deep down you wanted so badly to expand your connection to him beyond just friends, but something stopped you. This ‘something’ was so definite, it felt nearly physical. It was as if an iron wall stood between you two.
Shoto had never shown any romantic interests in you, but then again he never took notice of anyone in that sort of way. No matter how many girls threw themselves his way, or when countless guys tried to catch a sliver of his attention, he barely even glanced in their direction. And it wasn’t because he was trying to be rude or blow them off. He genuinely just couldn’t tell when someone was trying to flatter him, his social skills still not up to speed. Shoto was capable of feeling, he just wasn’t sure if he should feel.
You knew this first hand, all the hints you dropped about the flames in your chest never were picked up. He simply believed you were platonically complimenting him, that iron wall still plastered around his heart. And no matter how rapid your feelings grew, the fear of rejection always halted your confessions. You loved Shoto so deeply, but you cared for the strength of your guys’ friendship to a much more powerful extent.
One night during finals week of your second year, you and Sho had been studying nearly all day. It was a Saturday and it was around 10:30 at night. You personally were hungry and Shoto himself said he could go for a snack. A late night soba vender had just opened up down the street, seemed like the perfect spot. So you both threw on sweaters over the sweatpants you had sat in all day, texted your parents since they had already gone to bed, and just like that you and shoto were walking down the dimly lit street through the quantum hours of the night sky.
The stars were scattered abundantly that night, the chill that went through your spine with every gust of wind went merely unnoticed due to the night’s beauty. Your hand clutched Shoto’s bicep, he insisted on it as a precaution. It made you feel safer as well, knowing abductions had been more frequent and took place mainly at night. But along with the security it provided, it also warmed you from the inside. The manifestation of love in your heart turned to flames, and the flames seemed to ignite your senses and tint your cheeks pink. By your luck, Shoto didn’t notice any of this, he never noticed how flustered you became when you shared these small touches that seemed to break that iron wall. But, maybe that was for the better.
You guys had ended your commute to the soba vendor, seating yourselves at the counter and ordering respectively. Shoto had insisted on paying since he somehow managed to swipe his father’s credit card, but if it was Enji’s money, you really couldn’t mind. By the time you each had finished up your meal, the time was nearly 11:45. Your walk home was slightly more eventful than the first time around, you decided to take a detour through a park near a quiet pond.
Shoto’s feet dragged after yours all while you tugged his arm as you nearly skipped to the water's edge. You had a slightly more pep in your step than he himself, but that was nearly symbolic of you and Shoto. You two were nearly identical in the way you always held a calm expression, your short but precise remarks, and even in the demeanor you both present when you become even the slightest bit irritated. These similarities manifested from the tough love in which you were raised with, Shoto’s father being mainly all tough and no love. Your parents drilled it into your mind that anything less of perfection was utter failure. But the love he lacked, you still received to some extent as a child. and that’s what set you apart. You had the ability to skip through the night and feel the joy of the starlight reflecting off your eyes, Shoto simply watching and observing your ecstasy. Not entirely processing a feeling he sees now, but has never felt for himself.
Both you and Shoto came to a standstill at the edge of the water, barely any words had been exchanged since you left the soba vendor. The shoes you both wore began to sink into the sand of the bay. You leaned over the edge, Shoto mimicking your actions. Your reflections on the water surface rippled by the Koi fish that swam beneath. The light the stars cast onto their scales bounced back and onto Shoto’s eyes. His focus connected to the fish as it swam down stream and your reflections became whole once more. While his gaze never shifted, you found yours following the change of his features. You watched through the mirror of water as his eyebrows relaxed, the corners of his mouth weren’t pulled tight, but instead they tugged upward in the most subtle of ways. The flames erupted once more, rising from the ashes like wings of a phoenix, the feeling of love you forced yourself to keep inside was fighting back against your will. You averted your gaze in hopes the heat rising in your chest and your face would subside, but even though you stood at Shoto’s right hand, that wasn;t enough to cool the flames. He noticed your sudden change of focus through the movement reflected on the water, and that's when his focus shifted, shifted to meet yours.
When your eyes connected to the brown and blue of his, you couldn’t help but take notice of just how beautiful he truly was. The way his scar emphasized the brightness of his left eye, the way of how they sparkled just as the stars did against the pond you currently stood near. Your mind had become so utterly consumed by your admiration, his words of concern passed right through you.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” He spoke softly, the time of night affecting his tone. He waved his hand slightly in front of your eyes, breaking the trance you were trapped inside. His pupils were blown out a slight bit more, his eyebrows furrowed together like they tend to be. You nodded your head, bringing yourself back to reality. Shoto brought his hand down to your elbow, slowly ushering you back to the sidewalk. What happened in the following ten seconds seemed to span for eons. Shoto turned to walk back, still keeping his grip on your arm, gentle but stern. Before you could stop yourself your hand pulled on his shoulder lightly, his attention back to you. Your hand found its way to his chin and his grip on your arm tightened in the smallest bit.
“Wha-”
Your lips cut off his protest of confusion, your eyes squeezed shut as his eyes flew open wider than ever before. You hand caressed his jaw gently as his grip on your arm fell entirely. This connection and such deep affection that was poured into that single kiss was nearly three years of confined emotions, the crave and depth of your love finally sprung free from your soul. But as you enjoyed the brief moment, your senses began to override your heart. You suddenly remembered that what was between you and Shoto was nothing more or less of a close and two way friendship. You were the first to pull away, although the look on Shoto’s face when you finally came back down from your high, he looked as if he had pulled away first.
“Sho, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happ- I shouldn't have done that please-” You rambled on as you took a step back, shame replacing the flames that were there just seconds before.
“Let’s go home, it’s late.” He cut in, his voice possessing an edge it wouldn’t normally.
“Sho please-” you pleaded, but were cut off once more.
“Y/n, please.”
The way he said your name, the motion of his back turned to you waiting for you to follow, it was enough for you to realize this was territory that shouldn’t be touched. And so instead of trying to explain yourself or make sense of what the hell just happened, you both made your way back to your house in complete and utter silence. The street lights and stars your only guide through the wordless lack of warmth. For the first time ever within your connection to Shoto, the silence couldn’t even be described as uncomfortable. It was absolutely unbearable.
Shoto had made sure you made it inside your house before walking down two blocks to his own. The usual goodnight text you received, the reminder to actually sleep, never danced across your phone screen. The conversation labeled with his name remained silent and only held the traces of the goodnight text from the night before. You couldn’t recall crying or ever falling asleep, but you remembered feeling the dampness of your pillow as you woke up the morning after.
Monday soon rolled around and you were in the middle of gathering your things for school. You couldn’t deny you were nervous to repeat your normal routine of walking to school with Shoto, but you decided the least you could do was try. You packed an extra snack for him just in case, just as he did for you on days where you were particularly struggling. You were in the middle of slipping on your shoes when a knock was heard on the door. Your parents left for work before you even woke and so that left you to answer. You expected it to be your neighbor or a local vendor, but there he stood. His uniform nicely pressed, his tie nice and straight, and his hair perfectly parted down the middle, not a single strand of white mixing with red.
“Sho! We don’t have to start walking for another half hour what are-”
“Let’s take a walk. We should talk.” He stated quite plainly, turning and walking down the steps of your porch and waiting quietly on the sidewalk.
You quickly regained your bearings and your bag and made your way to his side as your steps fell in time with his. He began to lead you through a left turn when you two would usually turn right. This is the long way to school, you thought. Maybe he really did finally have something to say. You weren;t sure if you actually were ready to hear it. it all depended on how he felt about your affections. Your fear of rejection still failed to waver even after the act of courage you displayed two days before.
Without knowing, you were walking on Shoto’s right side that day, closest to the street. Shoto only noticed as you accidentally bumped his side as you moved away from a speeding car. Without a word, he placed his hands on your biceps and moved you to his left, putting distance between you and the street. Your breath caught in your throat as he did this, the action that was so natural in any other circumstance. But in this moment in time, it showed that the connection between you two was still there and it held through the tense air that filled the space between.
Suddenly, Shoto stopped. His movements stopped entirely just a few strides in front of you. You as well came to standstill, your gaze connecting to the back of his school blazer. Then, as if the world had suddenly started to move in slow motion, Shoto turned and faced you. His hands flew to the sides of your jaw, his fingers placed behind your ears and at the curve where your jaw meets the start of your neck. His lips crashed into yours, the force behind them angry but warm, much more force than yours had conveyed. He didn’t back away, his eyes were shut as his lips explored yours. The electric that ran through his fingertips and danced across your shoulders and down your arms, spurring into your fingertips. Your hands came up to grip the front of his blazer, trying to ground yourself and not disassociate from this moment. But as quickly as it started, his lips left yours, Shoto pulling away first this time. Both of you heaved, your chests falling and rising rapidly. Saliva glistened across your lips, your own pupils blown out along with his. He brushed his bangs from his vision, focusing his hazed eyes back to you. His silence was broken as he breathed out something similar to a confession and an explanation.
“Y/n I’m gonna talk. And let me say it all before I forget please.” You nodded your head and the intensity your eyes held was enough of an indication that you were ready to hear it all. Shoto was ready to let down his iron wall completely, and welcome you into his heart that was so sheltered it didn’t know what it was necessarily welcoming.
“Look, I’m so sorry for blowing you off and dismissing the kiss that night. I should’ve at least said something, anything. But please understand that rash acts of affection is something I don’t know how to process. You know me and you know how I grew up. The last time I was ever shown any sort of physical love was from my mother, and I was five when she was taken away. I had been feeling a certain way whenever I would spend time with you. My chest would tighten and it seemed as if my heart was going to leap out on my throat. I could feel the heat of my left side intensify, it spreading to my right whenever you smiled at me. I have never felt this way, I never have felt anything close to this. I don’t even know what it is, but it draws me to you. It’s as if I’m being pulled by an unknown force that surrounds you. And it scared me, I was terrified to indulge in this feeling because it was so strange to me. A knot was constantly tightening in my stomach, and when you kissed me it snapped. And it shocked me, the feeling shocked my common sense entirely. I don’t understand this and I don’t know why. I feel these things for you but my body isn;t capable of processing it. And I could see that hurt you, and I’m sorry. I- I just need time. I still don’t know what this is. I can;t say it’s love because I’ve never loved anyone. But I’m trying to understand it because I know one thing. I care about you and I want to always be there to care about you. I feel for you beyond the feelings of a friendship. Maybe this could be love that I feel, but I’m still trying to figure that out. What I’m trying to say is that I want to love you. I’ll teach myself how to do that. But please be patient with me, let me understand these feelings.”
As his voice trailed off, your mind held onto one specific detail he spoke about. It all made sense now. His reaction made so much sense and you cursed yourself for not realizing it before. Shoto wasn;t shown the same love you were as a child, therefore his heart and mind aren’t equipped to process such strong acts of affection. You were, you were shown that extent of love, even if it was just a little. His heart was completely overwhelmed, and his entire ability to reciprocate that affection was held back by those iron walls. Something you failed to realize was that those iron walls don’t only keep feelings out, they also keep his own emotions in. And that kiss that night broke the walls and those pent up emotions flooded his body, rendering him unable to explain his bluntness. It all finally made sense.
“I’ll wait Shoto. I get it, I should’ve known. But I’ll be here to help you understand those feelings. I’ll be as patient for as long as you need because I’m able to understand my own emotions. And from that I know that I love you.” You spoke gently, cupping his hand between yours, silietly promising to be there to help his iron walls come down.
And with that, you pulled him to your chest and wrapped your arms around his waist, his gripping around your shoulders. As you embraced, Shoto vowed that he would work to understand, work to tear down the iron walls around his heart, he would do this all until he could say he loved you too.
Back to present day, nearly a year later. You and Shoto had made your way to the UA campus, about to split to different ends of the hall. His arm was wrapped snugly around your waist as he pulled you closer. His lips connected to your temple as he mumbled something about remembering to eat the sandwich he had given you that morning. You simply nodded and hugged around his waist before he pulled away. You waved him off as he began to walk his own route to class. And before you started to walk your own way, you called out to him just as his back turned.
“I love you sho.” You said loud enough for him to hear, but not so much for everyone in the halls with you two to turn their heads. He turned back around, his bangs hanging low over his two toned eyes, his scar peeking out from behind as he smiled faintly at you.
Shoto waved to you subtly as he mouthed back, “I love you too.”
There it was. You could almost hear the crash of his iron walls fall.
He holsted his bag once more and disappeared into the crowd of your fellow peers. You also began your commute as you smiled extremely brightly to yourself. His iron walls had finally come down, and his heart accepted this emotion now as something it knew. Shoto only knew the feeling of true love because he knew you, and your heart expanded because you knew him. And you now also knew everything hidden behind the walls of his mind and heart. Your guys’ love entirely constructed from the broken fragments of iron that Shoto broke down piece by piece.
>>>>>>
a/n pt. two: gonna take the time to explain why i struggled with this piece. it wasn’t because i didn’t like the prompt or i didn’t have inspiration from it. it was solely based on the fact that i’m terrible at writing love stories! also todoroki is such a complex character and i haven’t completely analyzed him like i have with bakugou and deku and kirishima. that’s why this piece was a little rougher than ones i’ve written for bakugou. nonetheless, i love this story and id love to see shoto smile again :,)
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johnkrrasinski · 3 years
Text
dwindling, mercurial high
full masterlist
Pairings: Andy Barber x female!reader 
Word count: 2,733
Warning: SMUT!!! infidelity/cheating, age gap, unprotected sex, dirty talk, angst, lots of angst. (MUST BE 18+) 
Summary: based on the song ‘illicit affairs’ by taylor swift. things changed between you and andy, the man you’d been crushing on for the longest time, after you returned home from college. what was born from a single glance & stolen stares turned into a secret addiction, something neither of you could get sober from. 
a/n: the idea piqued my imagination after watching taylor’s folklore long pond studio session and i wondered what it’d be like to be the third person instead of the cheated one, thus this angsty fic was born. reblog & feedback are always appreciated. 
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You closed your eyes as your back hit the wall repeatedly, you held onto him as tight as possible as you moaned in his ear. The bristle of his beard tickled your neck as he nipped your sensitive spot, causing your head to spin. The coil in your abdomen tightened, so did your legs around his waist, and you clenched around him, pushing him to thrust harder into you, chasing your orgasms. Your wailings grew louder and you cried out his name like prayer as his pace become sloppier.
Time became hazy as you plummeted into bliss while he continued to impale you, prolonging your release as well. You wanted the moment to last as long as possible as you presented your body as a vessel for him to obtain pleasure, the kind that he couldn’t get at home from his lovely wife. You didn’t mind that it took him longer to reach his peak, the comforting feeling of him being inside you was like cozying up to your favourite knit sweater and a cup of hot chocolate whilst it was raining outside.
But rains don’t last forever, and the sun was always around the corner, lurking to appear and scorch the planet once more, waking everyone up out of their comfortable place. And that’s what it was like being with Andy.
He groaned as he released deep inside you, resting his face on your shoulder while trying to catch his breath. He kissed you on the lips, claiming your mouth as you ran your fingers through his hair until he needed air. But you didn’t, because he was the air that you needed. Then he set you on your feet gently and he began putting on his clothes. “It’s stopped coming down, I should head back now, Laurie’s going to come home soon and I told her that I’d be working from home today. It’d be suspicious if I left the house without telling her.”
You nodded, “…okay.” But it wasn’t okay, how much longer were you going to have these clandestine meetings? How could you tell him that you wanted him to stay and hold you close just for once?
He slipped his feet into his shoes and untied the lace. You leaned on your hands against your study desk and watched his flushed state longingly as if you were trying to speak with your gaze and you wanted him to get the message because words would hurt both of you. He put on his coat and swung the hood over his head then stood before you, “are you okay, kid?”
No, how could you even ask me that? “Yeah.” He always asked the same question after every time you both made love but never once did you tell him the truth and he believed you. He kissed you on the forehead and there he goes, leaving you with your tears and fury once more without a single weight in his heart.
How did you end up here? It began last summer after you came back home from college. You were going to work in your father’s law firm once you finished law school and obtained your degree. Your father was a lawyer and had a good friendship with the Barbers since you were little. You even watched Jacob being born when Laurie went into labour. Besides living across from each other and worked in the same field, you were like a big sister to Jacob too. He was always a shy, introverted kid who didn’t make friends easily so Andy truly cherished your companion for his son.
You were always happy being a big sister figure to Jacob, you were both the only children so it was easy to bond over that. But what you’d never admit out loud, was also the fact that yous secretly had a crush on Jacob’s dad. What’s not to swoon over? Andy was extremely good looking, a good father and a loving husband. He was a top lawyer, courteous, soft-spoken and always treated you kindly whenever you came over.
It affected your dating life in high school because, despite all the boys asking you out, you never said yes to them. Because there was only one man that you wanted and you couldn’t have him. Even in college, you tried to forget him and seek for someone else, but even college boys couldn’t live up to Andy.
Three years went by and you finally returned home and were ready to start your career as a lawyer. Law and crimes always fascinated you because you believed that justice wasn’t as simple as black or white, or the good guy versus the bad guy so it came naturally for you to follow your father’s footsteps.
Your father invited the Barbers over for dinner to celebrate your homecoming. Laurie asked you about the college life and teased if you might’ve had dated a few boys and you nervously refuted the question by telling her that you were too busy with studying. Andy sat across you and you tried so hard not to make eye contact with him but you couldn’t fight the urge and you swore you saw him glance at you once or twice and he’d quickly look away once you caught him.
One afternoon, a couple of days after the dinner, when your father was at the court, and your mother was at her boutique, you decided to come over to the Barbers’ house. Jacob texted you earlier about his Physics homework and asked for your help on doing it. You were going to start working at the firm on Monday so you had plenty of spare time at home, doing whatever you wished for. You were bored, you had been reading books and watching Netflix all day so you decided to spend time helping Jacob with his homework.
You knocked on the door and texted him, “I’m outside.” You were a little early than the agreed time so Andy opened the door instead of the person you expected.
“Mr. Barber, hi! Is Jacob home yet?” You tried your best to keep your composure.
“No, he said he was staying for Math. He didn’t tell you?”
“Uh, he must’ve forgotten. He asked me earlier to help him with his homework and I thought I could come by early to hang out, but it’s fine, I’ll just come back later. Thanks, Mr. Barber.”
“You could come inside and wait for Jacob here if you want?” He offered.
“Um, are you sure, Mr. Barber? I don’t wanna be a bother.”
“No, please, Laurie hasn’t come home yet, and I’d appreciate the company. And just call me Andy.”
“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ve got no one to talk to at home yet, anyway. Except for my cat who only comes to me when she’s hungry.”
He chuckled at the joke as he closed the door behind you. “You want anything to drink?”
“Coffee would be nice, thank you Mr. Barber.”
He gave you a look at the nickname. “Sorry, I meant, Andy.”
“You’ve really grown since the last time I saw you, ____. You’ve even gotten good-looking.” He nonchalantly said whilst he was making your coffee. “Milk?”
“Huh?” your heart was beating fast at his flattering words. “Do you want some milk in your coffee?”
“Yes, please.” You gulped, mentally screaming at yourself to keep it together. “Are you saying that I was an ugly duckling, Andy?”
He chuckled, “no, what I meant was, your appearance definitely changed and I like it.” He served the coffee on the dining table where he laid a bunch of papers and a laptop and you tried to maintain your distance despite every cell in your body was begging for you to sit closer to him.
You hoped he couldn’t hear the way your breath hitched so you drank your coffee with shaky hands. He asked you about college or shared some advice in becoming a young lawyer. He also caught you up with stories that you missed while you were away. How he found out Jacob was bullied by this kid in his school and how he and Laurie had been arguing a lot lately.
“I’m sorry about that, Andy. But you two will work it out, what marriage doesn’t have its disputes, right? If you both had made it this far, I’m sure you can make it for many more years.”
“Thanks, ____. Be sure to keep that in mind if a guy starts a quarrel with you, okay?” He sipped his own coffee.
“I’ll have to find a guy first, I guess.”
“Are you not seeing anyone?” He gave you a quizzical look.
“No, just haven’t found the time, I guess.”
“Oh, c’mon. You’re an intelligent and attractive young woman. You should go out and explore.”
“And what if I couldn’t find one that I want, Andy?” You stirred your coffee, unable to look him in the eye.
“What do you want, ____?” He inched his face closer to you, making it hard to breathe. His ocean blue eyes bored into yours, with the kind of look that you never saw before. In this proximity, you could see how his pupils had dilated, filling the rim with darkness lust. And you didn’t question his intentions or what he was thinking but at that moment, you had never wanted him more. And you needed him. You needed him to grant your heart’s greatest desire. Him.
“You,” you voice was barely a whisper. “I want… You.”
“Say it, say it louder.”
“I want you, Andy. I’ve wanted you forever.”
Then as if the time had frozen, he slammed his lips onto yours, nearly causing your chair to fall back if only he didn’t catch you. Andy grabbed your face and kissed you with a burning passion. You shut your eyes, reeling from the swirling emotions in your stomach. It wasn’t butterflies but the whole damn zoo. Andy licked your bottom lip and you parted your mouth for him, allowing his tongue to enter and tangle itself with yours.
You whimpered and you felt Andy smirked at the way your body reacted to him. Andy then stood up and lifted you onto the table, and he slightly pulled your hair back, exposing your neck to him. He began trailing kisses there and his right hand roamed around your body until it reached the hem of your off-the-shoulder top and it travelled to your breast and he toyed with it, pinching the nipple and fondle with the globe.
“Andy…” taking your whimpers as a green light, he moved his hand down to the zipper of your jeans, fumbled with the buttons and he pulled them down just enough for his hand to caress your womanhood. Blood rushed to your cheeks when he felt your arousal. He shoved the G-string aside, allowing his fingers to stroke you.
“If I knew how much you wanted me, I would’ve made a move sooner, baby.”
The coalescence of his voice, his plump lips and his hands touching you all over nearly made you forgot where you were until the act was interrupted by Jacob’s voice from the door, “Dad, I’m home!” Andy quickly stopped his assault on you and let you go. You stood on shaky legs as you tried to smooth over your rumpled top and zip up your jeans.
Luckily, when Jacob found you both in the kitchen, he didn’t suspect anything and you followed him to his room, walking away from Andy as if nothing even happened. And that was the beginning of your doomed affair.
His infidelity carried on for months and none of you had found the strength to break it off. You knew it was wrong in so many ways. You always considered The Barbers as your second family despite your latent feelings for Andy. You’d be letting down so many people if they found out about this affair. Each time you both ran off to find escapism in a secluded place, you were consumed by guilt. Every time you told yourself that you can always stop, that he can always stop, you were choked with words. The desire has rooted itself way too deep and none of you could go back now.
It started in your room and once he’d grown weary of the atmosphere, he’d take you to a motel a little outside of town where nobody really knew who you were and it has now taken you to an empty parking lot. Andy laid on the reclined shotgun seat with his clothes off and his pants around his ankles. You leaned your hand on the window as his cock stretched you open from under.
He loved the way your breasts jiggled with each thrust. You had your shirt lifted just enough to display your breasts for him while your shorts and underwear were thrown off to the backseat. His cock was hitting your G-spot repeatedly, creating tantalizing friction. You writhed above him, screaming his name as loud as you possibly could with your mind disarrayed from his thrusts. He had both of his hands gripping your hips solidly, controlling your move as you rode him.
“After all the time I’ve fucked you, you’re still so tight,” He groaned. He moved one of his hands to breast, pinching the nipple and you mewled from the pleasurable sting. He slid his hand up to your throat, cutting off your airway, suffocating you. Your whimpers your muted but it didn’t stop you from moving up and down on him. His other hand slid under your body, he toyed with your wetness and rubbed your clit, causing you to clench around him. “You gonna cum all over my fat cock, baby?”
His filthy words never failed to arouse you. If anyone had told fifteen years old you that the man you had such admired and respect, though from afar, had a foul mouth during sex, you would’ve told them to piss off because they had no idea what the hell were they talking about, but now you had an explicit, front-row seat view of it, you couldn’t look at him any other way.
The way his cock rutted into you and the way his digits worked you over and over again, while his massive hand made you struggle for air, sent your body into overdrive and you cried out his name as if it was your salvation. Your brain was clouded with ecstasy as he continued to ram into you, chasing his own release.
You lost the power to straddle him and collapsed on top of him. Andy’s hands travelled back into your hips, locking you in place as you were pliable with your prolonged orgasm. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, baby.”
Then Andy emptied his seed into you, filling you up with his load, and he groaned out loud in your ear. You both tried to abate your breathing while he was still sheathed inside you. The closeness felt intimate and comforting and somehow it felt like you were committing treachery. Your limbs were intertwined and you didn’t wanna untangle yourself from him because you knew if you did, he’d drive you home and take the less travelled by road and that would be it.
There was no post-sex cuddling or aftercare. There was no murmuring soft words under a duvet and exchanging tender kisses while basking in the afterglow with him. Because that’s all this was, an illicit affair. All there was after a steamy rendezvous were quick showers to wash off traces of each other as if you didn’t even exist and a spontaneously fabricated tale so the other person wouldn’t know where the other one had truly been.
You wanted to throw things at him and scream, don’t you fucking call me kid or baby, I’m neither of those things. You wanted to hate him for the godforsaken mess he’d turned you into, but you couldn’t. Because he had shown you colours you couldn’t see with anyone else and you couldn’t erase the secret language he taught you from your mind despite the idiotic fool that he made you.
And no matter how many times you witnessed him kissing his wife like a loving spouse would and how long he made you wait for a call, you knew damn well that you’d do it all over again for him in a heartbeat.
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taylorswiftstyle · 3 years
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folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions | November 24, 2020 
Free People ‘Lux Velvet Shirt Dress’ - $198.00
The only non-surprising thing about the beautiful trailer released today is that Taylor is wearing Free People in it. 
I believe it was some months ago that I voiced a longing for something akin to Miley Cyrus’ Backyard Acoustic sessions where folklore was played live in a beautiful, intimate way - given it was an album that felt so fitting to that. And now here we are!  
I think this is the content I’ve been hungering for and I’m so excited to see these songs come to life in a vulnerable, cozy way with the people who helped Taylor create this stunning piece of art and to also learn more from Taylor about the process of making folklore. This was absolutely the perfect way of honouring the album while also staking her claim for her Grammy nominations ;) 
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knuffled · 3 years
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Just Practice - Chapter 17
here’s the ao3 link
The hospital garden was nestled along the northern side of the building and overlooked a small pond. Perhaps it was too generous to call it a garden. In reality, it was only a few flower beds of orchids and lilacs stowed carefully in terracotta pots. When the weather was nice, the patients would often spend some time there on the benches to get some fresh air. It wasn’t much but it definitely beat being cooped up in a hospital room with that stale, sterilized air that always made her feel more like a laboratory specimen than a human being.
After her surgery, Annabeth was allowed to visit the garden provided she went in a wheelchair to avoid agitating her knee. The doctor’s initial diagnosis had proven to be accurate once they ran some imaging tests on her: it was, in fact, a torn ACL. Annabeth had suspected as much, and she opted to get it operated on sooner than later. The surgery had gone quite well, actually. She had been lucky enough to only suffer a partial tear, according to her doctor. If she had suffered a complete tear, it could have possibly made both surgery and her subsequent recovery much more difficult.
Nonetheless, Annabeth didn’t feel particularly lucky. Honestly, in the week that she spent at the hospital, she hardly felt anything at all. Just numb. Her physical therapy sessions were the only things she had to look forward to in order to get her mind off of things. Otherwise, she was mainly stuck confined to her bed with her leg suspended in that god awful brace. Piper had brought her some novels to occupy her time, but Annabeth couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anything she read.
Today was the first day the weather had been clear enough to head outside, and Annabeth had jumped at the chance to get out of her stuffy hospital room as soon as she could. She sat outside staring at the pond with her brain turned off, watching ducks glide across the water’s surface and preen their feathers.
Within another day or two she would be discharged from the hospital and would have to head back home, but she really didn’t want to. Her father had dropped by the day after her injury, but his visit was practically a formality. He had stayed for all of five minutes, only making sure she wasn’t dead really, before he left. On top of every other shitty thing that had happened to her recently, his visit only served to rub salt in the wound.
Sometime mid-afternoon, one of the orderlies told her that she had a visitor. Annabeth had been expecting Piper or Jason, but she was surprised to see Reyna approach her instead.
Reyna gave her a small wave, her hand hidden in the sleeve of her purple sweatshirt. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Annabeth said, blinking. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Reyna shifted on her heels. “I’m not intruding am I?”
“Funnily enough, my schedule is quite free these days,” Annabeth said lightly.
That managed to get the corner of Reyna’s lips to tug upwards. “Glad to see your injury hasn’t done anything to change your god-awful sense of humor.”
“It’s quite bad mannered to bully the infirm, you know,” Annabeth sniffed.
Reyna rolled her eyes and sat down at the bench beside Annabeth. “How’s your leg doing?”
Annabeth sighed and said, “It’s recovering. Just got surgery done a few days ago.”
“Surgery?” Reyna frowned.
Annabeth nodded. “Turns out I tore my ACL.”
Reyna grimaced and said, “Jeez, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“The doctors said that I’m lucky it was only a partial tear,” Annabeth said, smiling weakly. “But I don’t feel particularly lucky.”
“D-Did they say anything about how long it’ll take for you to make a full recovery?” Reyna asked hesitantly.
“They were pretty wishy-washy about it,” Annabeth said, shrugging. “Guessing they don’t want to be liable for being wrong. Only estimate they gave me was that I could walk normally in about two weeks or so. After that, depends on how well I respond to physical therapy.”
Reyna was silent for a while before she said, “Meet me at the college circuit someday. I’ll be waiting there for you. And then we can finally settle things.”
Annabeth picked at the hem of her shirt with a wan smile. “What’s there to settle? I haven’t beat you a single time. There’s a clear winner here, and it sure isn’t me.”
“You of all people should know you’re only as good as your last race,” Reyna said. “People in our sport can never afford to rest on their laurels.”
When Annabeth was silent, Reyna quietly said, “You look like you’ve already given up.”
Reyna’s words stung and made Annabeth recoil. “I’m sick of giving myself false hope.”
“The way I see it, hope has nothing to do with it. The only question is if you still want to try. If you still want to compete, then you’ll keep pushing until you find a way through,” Reyna said, shrugging.
“Now, I’m not here to tell you whether you should keep going or not. That’s up to you. But don’t hide behind hope as an excuse. If you want to stop, then own it.”
Annabeth stared at her lap for a while and said, “I- I don’t know. I need more time to think about it.”
Reyna nodded and said, “I don’t blame you. It’s a big decision.”
There was another pause before Annabeth cleared her throat and said, “I never got a chance to apologize. For what happened at the meet, I mean.”
Reyna furrowed her brow. “What is there to apologize for?”
Annabeth dug her fingernails into her palms. “I cost you the race. If it weren’t for me, you would have won state and placed nationally.”
“From what I recall, a certain someone was screaming at me to let her go because I was, and I quote, ‘throwing the fucking race’,” Reyna said dryly.
“Sorry about that,” Annabeth mumbled.
Reyna gave her a smile and said, “You have nothing to blame yourself for, Annabeth. It was my choice to stay and help you.”
A lump formed in Annabeth’s throat. “But why though? Why did you help me?”
“I already told you,” Reyna said, mock-exasperatedly. “Because we’re friends.”
“And that was enough of a reason?”
“There are more important things than high school cross country races, Annabeth,” Reyna said simply.
Annabeth bit her lower lip and struggled to wrap her head around Reyna’s answer. They were friends, but not so close that it made sense for her to abandon the championship for her sake. Maybe Reyna was just like that with people she deemed friends or perhaps it was just a decision made in the heat of the moment.
“And you don’t resent me or anything for it?” Annabeth asked.
“Not one bit,” Reyna said firmly. “I would do it again if I had to. I’m sure you would have done the same for me.”
“You think too highly of me,” Annabeth said quietly. “But thank you.”
Reyna raised an eyebrow and said, “So you would have left me lying in the mud with a fucked up leg just to a win a race then?”
Annabeth paused and said, “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose not.”
“See? Told you: there are more important things,” Reyna said, smiling. “Besides, I don’t want you using your injury as an excuse for when I inevitably kick your ass.”
That got a watery laugh out of Annabeth. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”
Reyna rolled her eyes fondly. “Of course not.”
Annabeth hid a smile and stared up at the clear, blue sky for a while before something occurred to her. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Percy told me,” Reyna said, shrugging.
Annabeth furrowed her brow and said, “You have his number?”
“No, we just happened to run into each other somewhere, and I got a chance to ask him.”
Annabeth’s heart beat faster in her chest. “D-Did he say anything else to you?”
Reyna shook her head. “No, but he looked like a mess though. Did something happen?”
Annabeth nodded and felt a lump form in her throat. Slowly, she told Reyna about everything that had unfolded after she had left her with Percy. Reyna listened quietly and intently the entire time that Annabeth spoke, but Annabeth couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
Annabeth finished by saying, “I know I shouldn’t have cornered him like that just because I was so angry about my knee, especially the whole confession thing, but at the same time, I can’t help being frustrated that he still refused to open up, right to the very end.”
When Reyna was silent, Annabeth looked at her and said, “You once said that you thought he lied all the time about how he felt and what he wanted. Is this what you meant?”
“Not exactly,” Reyna admitted. “I thought it was something more malicious, but after seeing how he is around you, it’s obvious how much he cares for you.”
“If he does,” Annabeth said softly, “it’s not in a way that I understand.”
“You’re not alone in feeling that way, I would imagine,” Reyna said. “We all have different ideas of what it means to love and be loved, and sometimes those ideas don’t match up.”
“And there’s nothing we can do about that then?” Annabeth asked.
Reyna shook her head. “No, it just means you both need to talk to about your needs. It’s not wrong to teach someone how to love you the way you need them to.”
“I would if he bothered to listen,” Annabeth said tersely.
“Really? From what you’ve told me about him, he seems to listen to you a great deal,” Reyna said, sounding surprised.
Annabeth worried her lower lip and hesitantly said, “I mean, yeah, I guess that’s accurate. But there’s still something that gets in the way, and I don’t know what it is.”
“I said this before, but it seems like he’s holding something back,” Reyna said. “Not in the way one hides secrets, but in the way you shoulder a burden, quietly and without complaint. Maybe it’s just that over time that weight has become too much to bear.”
Reyna’s words instantly struck a chord in her, even though she hadn’t fully processed them yet.
A wry smile danced on Reyna’s lips. “Reminds me a lot of my sister. Something about how sad their eyes look.”
Annabeth blinked in surprise - she had always pegged Reyna as an only child. “Wait, you have a sister?”
Reyna nodded and said, “Yeah, seven years older than me. Her name’s Hylla.”
She looked like she had more to say, so Annabeth remained silent and watched her. Reyna buried her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt and stared up at the sky with a sigh.
“My dad was a physically abusive piece of shit growing up, so much so that my mother left him. Unfortunately, she didn’t bother to take us with her, for whatever reason, so we had to fend for ourselves. As the older sibling, Hylla took it upon herself to protect me until she was old enough to move out and take me with her,” Reyna said.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Annabeth said quietly.
“It’s whatever. We’re fine now, for the most part,” Reyna said, shrugging. “But sometimes I can tell that it still eats at Hylla. It wouldn’t be that big a deal, but she has a hard time opening up or putting herself first. Over the years, I’ve tried my best to help her through it, but it’s something she still struggles with.”
“Eventually, I realized that there was really nothing I could do,” Reyna said, pursing her lips. “So instead I swore to myself that I would be open and straight-forward about everything, in the hopes that maybe if I could show her there was another way, it might change something. And who knows, maybe it’s all for nothing, but at least I am being true to myself and honest about what I want.”
Reyna traced the lines on her palm and swallowed thickly. “But it’s really tough. People think it’s easy and assume nothing scares me but they’re wrong. I’m terrified, like all the time, but seeing how much it tears away at my sister, keeping everything locked up inside, I— I don’t ever want to live that way.”
“I think you’re amazing,” Annabeth said softly. “I can’t begin to imagine how much courage that takes.”
Reyna gave her a smile and said, “Thanks. That means a lot.”
Annabeth shook her head. “I should be the one thanking you, for sharing all of this.”
“It’s no problem. I only brought it up because your situation reminded me of my sister and I. Maybe I’m totally off base about that, I don’t know,” Reyna said.
“No, um, it was definitely helpful,” Annabeth said.
Reyna took Annabeth’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You still look conflicted.”
Annabeth laughed breathlessly and shrugged. “I-I don’t know. I guess I’m still having a hard time accepting that we’re even in this situation. It just hurts to find out that I didn’t know him anywhere near as well as I thought I did.”
“Why does that have to hurt?” Reyna asked. “What is it that troubles you so much?”
Annabeth had to pause and really think about Reyna’s question because nothing immediately came to mind. It was only now that she realized that it was actually kind of strange that she was so distraught about this to begin with. It wasn’t like there was anything particularly awful about the situation. After all, this sort of thing was totally common, but it still seemed to profoundly unsettle her all the same. She was just having a hard time understanding why that was the case.
“It’s hard to say,” Annabeth admitted. “I think it’s because Percy’s the only person in my life that I have ever truly been able to rely on, and finding out that I don’t fully know him scares me. If I don’t know him, utterly and completely, then how can I count on him? It just makes me feel really insecure, like this is all a house of cards that could come tumbling down at any moment.”
Reyna sighed and said, “I don’t know. I just think knowing someone is a pretty impossible standard to set for yourself.”
Annabeth furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, in my experience, a person isn’t something to be known like a fact in a book,” Reyna said. “The human heart isn’t something quite so definitive. A person is always ever in the process of unraveling, constantly revealing themselves moment by moment, piece by piece. None of us ever really knows one another, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters is the effort we make to know one another, not whether we succeed. That’s all that love is: finding someone that you make the effort to know, to discover and rediscover, over and over again. And they do the same for you.”
“But then how can we ever trust anyone?” Annabeth asked desperately.
“You take a leap of faith,” Reyna said simply. “I wish I could say there was some trick to never having your trust broken but that’s not possible. Trust, by its very nature, is a brittle thing, but that’s also what makes it worth anything. The only reason trust holds any value at all is because it is something that needs to be earned.”
Reyna’s words made Annabeth recall what Percy had told her atop Aspen Peak. She hadn’t fully understood what he had meant at the time, but now she realized that there was a power to vulnerability that she didn’t know existed. It was a paradox but only by opening herself to heartbreak could she ever find what she was looking for: something permanent.
Annabeth managed a half-smile and said, “Percy told me it was like letting someone touch your heart with their hands and praying they didn’t crush it between their fingers, but that it was something we needed to do anyways.”
“That’s a pretty good way to put it,” Reyna laughed.
Annabeth sighed and said, “Would be nice if relationships weren’t so fucking complicated.”
“Agreed,” Reyna said, yawning. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”
Annabeth nodded. “Thanks again for visiting me and for the advice. It was really helpful.”
“And thank you for listening,” Reyna said, smiling.
“I hope someday I’ll be able to live as strongly as you do,” Annabeth said.
“You already live that way,” Reyna said, shrugging. “You just doubt yourself too much.”
Annabeth worried her lower lip and nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
Reyna offered one final smile and said, “Guess I’ll head out then. Keep me posted about your leg and everything. When you can walk, we should hit up the batting cages again. Take your mind off things.”
“I’d like that,” Annabeth smiled.
“See you later, Annabeth.”
“You too, Reyna.”
Annabeth watched and waited for Reyna to leave before she sighed and headed back inside the hospital herself. She felt lighter for the first time in weeks. Reyna’s advice stuck in the back of her mind, and Annabeth took some time to digest it. She had a feeling it would help her figure out her path going forward.
:::
Piper came to pick her up on the day she was discharged from the hospital. By then, Annabeth could walk with the help of a brace that helped keep most of her weight off her knee, but she could only walk for a few minutes or so at most before the strain piled up and became too much. Piper leaned against the side of her car and watched Annabeth hobble over before she rushed in and gave Annabeth a hug.
“Didn’t realize you were so happy to see me,” Annabeth joked.
“Shut up,” Piper mumbled against her skin. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”
Annabeth swallowed thickly and whispered, “Thanks, Pipes.”
Piper pulled away and offered a gentle smile. “Ready to go then?”
“Yep.”
Piper opened the passenger’s side door for Annabeth and waited for Annabeth to take a seat before she did so as well. Annabeth rolled down the windows and relished in the late April breeze when it flowed across her face. Piper started the car and turned the radio on before she pulled out of the hospital parking lot and onto the interstate.
Once they were on their way, Annabeth turned to Piper and said, “You’re still okay with me staying with you right? I complete get if that’s not an option anymore.”
“No, you’re totally fine,” Piper assured her. “It’ll be nice to have some company. Besides, my place is too fucking big for only one person.”
“Your dad’s still away on a shoot then?” Annabeth asked.
Piper shrugged. “Probably. Didn’t bother asking.”
Annabeth nodded slowly and turned back to the window, but Piper looked at her and said, “Your parents aren’t going to flip out about this right?”
“Oh, I’m sure Helen will kick up a fuss, but that’s kind of par for the course,” Annabeth said.
“I’m all for it and everything, but have you really thought this through? I mean, leaving your family is a huge decision,” Piper said.
Annabeth gave her a significant look and said, “In all the time you’ve known me, when have I ever not thought things through?”
“Alright, fair point,” Piper admitted. “I’m still worried though.”
“I was going to have to leave for college anyways. This is basically only moving up the schedule. Besides, I’m pretty sure they’ll be glad to finally see me gone,” Annabeth said.
Piper grimaced and nodded. “I wish you didn’t have to go through all this. Especially now, with your leg and all.”
“It is what it is,” Annabeth said, shrugging.
They drove along in silence for a while before Piper glanced at her again and said, “I, uh, wanted to ask you about something unrelated.”
“Fire away.”
“I’m not sure if you know anything, but Percy has been acting really strange lately,” Piper said. “I’ve tried asking him about it, but he just smiles and says that it’s nothing.”
Annabeth sighed. She had been expecting this, but it was still rough now that it was finally here. Slowly, Annabeth began to explain the whole fake dating arrangement from the start of the school year and everything that had happened since then, culminating in their confrontation after her injury. Piper didn’t say so much as word, but Annabeth noticed the way her fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard they drained of blood.
When she was done, Annabeth watched Piper with bated breath, waiting for the worst. Piper just exhaled forcefully and said, “Christ, what a mess.”
“I know,” Annabeth said mildly.
“So this whole time, you guys weren’t actually dating then? You were just lying about it?”
Annabeth hung her head and said, “Yeah, pretty much.”
Piper was quiet for a moment before she shook her head incredulously. “I mean, I knew something was up with how jittery you were about the whole dating thing, but I never expected this.”
“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” Annabeth said. “I was afraid you’d be mad at me.”
“Oh, I am mad at you. Furious, actually. But I’m equally as frustrated with Percy. As bad an idea as it was on your part, he should never have accepted. He knows better,” Piper said, fuming. “A pair of idiots, the both of you. What were you both thinking?”
“I’m sorry,” Annabeth said.
“Well, what’s done is done, I guess,” Piper sighed. “Honestly, maybe this what the both of you needed. Maybe now you’ll finally sort out your relationship.”
“Or maybe this is the end of it for good,” Annabeth said wryly.
“Love the optimism, babe.”
Annabeth huffed a laugh and said, “I’ll try my best to fix this, but I don’t know if I can.”
Piper was quiet for a while before she said, “Give it another shot. Maybe things will be different now that he’s had time to think about all this on his own too.”
“Yeah, you might be right,” Annabeth said.
There was another pause before Annabeth said, “You’re not gonna rescind your offer to let me crash with you, right?”
Piper snorted and said, “I have half a mind to, but I won’t. As stupid as you are, you’re still my best friend, and I’m not going to turn my back on you.”
“I don’t appreciate the insult, but thank you,” Annabeth said, smiling.
Piper glanced at her and jabbed her with her elbow. “Don’t look so happy with yourself or I might change my mind.”
“What, I’m not allowed to be happy that you called me your best friend?” Annabeth asked innocently.
Piper rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t try and schmooze your way out of this, you know what you’ve done. Especially, after that whole spiel about how you always think things through too.”
They pulled up in front of Annabeth’s house, and the brief levity in the air dissipated immediately. Annabeth set her jaw and took a deep breath, but her heart still beat faster in her chest anyways. Piper gave her a look of concern and squeezed her forearm.
“You sure you don’t want me to come with?” Piper whispered.
Annabeth shook her head. “No, this is something I need to do alone.”
Piper nodded but she still looked worried as Annabeth steadied herself and stepped out of the car. She hobbled to the front door and stepped inside with the spare key hidden beneath the flower pot. It was quiet inside the house, but the cars were still in the driveway so her father and step-mother had to be home. Annabeth pursed her lips and made her way upstairs to her room.
There was a suitcase hidden in her closet, and she pulled it out and opened it on the floor of her bedroom. She packed as many clothes as she could inside and stuffed her laptop, charger, phone charger, and water bottle inside her backpack. Once she was satisfied that she had everything prepared, she sat on her bed with a sigh.
Annabeth took a look around the room and felt a sudden rush of nostalgia wash over her. This was probably the last time she would ever come here, she mused. It was littered with all sorts of knick knacks and photos, posters and sketches. As much as she hated living in this house, this was the only place she could call her own. Leaving it almost felt like killing a part of herself off. Her step-mother would turn it into a storage room or something once she was gone, and soon there would be no trace that she had ever lived here. Something about that hurt, even though Annabeth knew it was for the best.
She stood up, feeling more than a little melancholy, and steeled her heart. There was still one last thing she needed to do. Annabeth put her luggage in the hallway and tentatively stepped into her father’s study. Thankfully, he wasn’t there. She riffled through the drawers of his desk in search of the old brown briefcase he stashed old letters in. It was always weird to her that he just kept letters, but he said he liked to have records in case companies tried to swindle him out of money. It was hidden away in some dark corner, and she dumped the contents onto the carpet.
There were hundreds of envelopes so it took her some time to sift through them all, but a few minutes later Annabeth’s worst fears were confirmed. There was an unopened letter addressed to her from Berkeley, dated October 4th.
That wasn’t the worst of it however.
There was another letter from Stanford. Northwestern. Duke. Cornell. Dartmouth. All dated from late September to early October. All unopened.
Annabeth had always felt something off about the fact that her Berkeley letter never reached her. She had dismissed it as a fluke but during her stay at the hospital it occurred to her that there could have been a more malevolent explanation. Seeing the letters now only confirmed her worst suspicions, but the sense of betrayal still hit her harder than she had anticipated.
She snatched the letters and stormed downstairs, as quickly as she could with her brace. Her father and step-mother were in the living room watching the news.
Helen blinked in surprise and said, “Annabeth? I didn’t know you were home from the hospital.”
Annabeth ignored her and held up the envelopes, her hands trembling. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, dear,” Helen said mildly.
“These are college letters. Addressed to me. Why did no one tell me?” Annabeth asked.
Helen shrugged and said, “I didn’t think they were important.”
Her excuse was so bad, it actually made Annabeth’s head hurt. “How could you not think that those might be important to your step-daughter, a senior in high school?”
A gleam of irritation flashed in Helen’s eyes. “You have been getting letters since junior year, and they always just asked you to apply, so I thought these were more of the same.”
“Let’s pretend for a moment that your terrible excuse is valid - you still should have shown me these,” Annabeth said.
“You’re still a child. Talk to your parents with respect,” Helen snapped.
Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “You literally lost me the chance to go to fucking Stanford, so you’ll have to forgive me for not having much respect for you.”
“Annabeth,” her father warned.
The smart thing to do would have been to drop it then and there. Nothing good could have come of this. The damage was already done. Continuing this would only make things worse.
Annabeth knew all this, but at that moment, she was filled with such uncontrolled rage, rage that had been built upon years upon years of horrid treatment from Helen and her father who couldn’t be bothered to care about the fact that his new wife routinely emotionally abused his first-born daughter, that she couldn’t bring herself to stop.
“She fucking knew this was important and she hid these from me anyways,” Annabeth snapped. “She’s so insecure about that fact that I’m more intelligent than her kids that she has to sabotage me.”
“Annabeth, that’s enough,” her father said sharply.
Annabeth turned to him and balled her hands in fists. “And you! You never say anything. You just let her treat me like absolute dogshit, and you don’t even care.”
“Young lady, you are so disrespectful that it honestly blows my mind,” Helen said coldly. “How you can accuse me of treating you poorly when you never bother to interact with the family and treat us like strangers is beyond me.”
“That’s rich coming from the person who couldn’t be bothered to visit her step-daughter once in the hospital,” Annabeth snorted.
A vein bulged on Helen’s forehead, and Annabeth knew she had her. “The reason I do my best to stay out of the house isn’t rocket science. From day one, you have done absolutely everything you can to make me feel unwelcome in this family-”
“Let me tell you something that you don’t seem to understand: no one is ruining your life, dear,” Helen interrupted. “You ruin things yourself and blame everyone else for it instead. You are just an ungrateful, spiteful little girl that does nothing but cause people pain.”
Annabeth stiffened like she’d been hit in the face with a shovel. Her thoughts turned to radio static and her chest squeezed so painfully that it was hard for her to breathe.
No words came to her.
Without meaning to, she turned to her father.
“D-Dad?” Annabeth asked, her voice cracking.
Annabeth wasn’t even sure what she was asking for, just that at that moment, she felt very much like she was seven years old again, asking him to check for monsters hiding in the closet. Back then she had taken it for granted that he would help her, that he would keep her safe. Suddenly, it made sense why she kept looking to him whenever Helen tormented her, even though she knew he would never come to her aid. She thought she had abandoned that hope a long time ago, but now Annabeth realized some small part of her had still held on to it, like someone tending to a dying flame.
Still, there was nothing that could prepare her for the silence in the living room at that moment as her father simply sat there, his lips pressed in a hard line, still not looking at her.
Annabeth forced herself to take a deep breath. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to let Helen win this.
No, instead, Annabeth turned to her father and offered him a strained smile. “Since it is apparent that you aren’t going to say anything on my behalf, like always, I just wanted to tell you a few things before I left. And yes, I am leaving. I’m done living in this house, which should delight the both of you. I don’t know that would even worry you, but rest assured: I’ll figure things out on my own, like I always have.”
When Helen bristled at the accusation, Annabeth offered her a smile like poisoned honey and said, “Before you open your mouth, feel free to shut the fuck up. I’m talking to my father right now.”
Helen went red, but Annabeth stared her down, begging her to say something. Helen glanced at her father, but for whatever reason, he didn’t come to her aid this time. She shook her head incredulously and left the living room, leaving Annabeth alone with her father.
When she was gone, he looked at Annabeth for the first time and said, “You went too far.”
“I honestly don’t give a shit,” Annabeth said simply.
Her father opened his mouth to chastise her, undoubtedly, but Annabeth bulldozed on through.
“Don’t bother to defend her. I’ll be gone in a few minutes anyways, and then it won’t matter since you’ll never have to see me again. But until then, you are going to shut up and listen to me,” Annabeth said.
Her father pressed his mouth in a thin line, which Annabeth took as permission to keep going.
“I don’t know when or how things went so wrong between us. I still remember how it used to be, back when mom was still around,” Annabeth started.
“She’s gone, Annabeth,” he interrupted.
“Yeah, I fucking know, but you don’t seem to realize you weren’t the only one she left behind,” Annabeth yelled.
“She left me, too, you know? And you have punished me for that, every day since she left,” Annabeth said, her voice cracking.
Annabeth steadied herself before she got too emotional and shook her head. “But I want you to know something - I am proud to be my mother’s daughter. Despite your best efforts to make me feel otherwise, I will not apologize for that, for being here, for existing. And I’m done looking to you for help or safety or even acknowledgement given you’ve long since proven to be utterly incapable of that. And I want you to know that someday I’ll find people who love and accept me, and I won’t ever have to spare a second of my life thinking about you and how you made me feel. Someday, I’ll heal and you’ll be nothing more than a bad memory.”
With that, Annabeth left to retrieve her luggage from the hallway before he could respond and left the house for good. Piper was pacing around her car and rushed over to her once she heard the door open and threw her arms around her.
“Are you okay?” Piper asked. “It sounded pretty bad in there.”
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, nodding. “I finally let go of something I should have a long time ago.”
Piper studied her for a moment before nodding to herself. “Alright, looks like that’s settled then. Let’s go get something to eat!”
Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “You’re dropping it, just like that?”
“You look like you’ve got it figured out on your own,” Piper said, shrugging. “Besides, I can tell this is something I can’t really help you with anyways.”
Annabeth smiled despite herself and shook her head. “I never thought the day would come when Piper McLean would know when to let sleeping dogs lie.”
Piper rolled her eyes and stashed her luggage in her car trunk. “Don’t make me change my mind about letting you stay.”
“That’s an empty threat if I’ve ever heard one,” Annabeth said, sliding into the passenger seat.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Piper muttered.
“But seriously though,” Annabeth said, clearing her throat. “Thank you. For everything. It means more to me than I can say.”
“You’re welcome,” Piper said softly. “I’m happy for you. Leaving that hellhole was a long time coming. You definitely made the right call.”
“What happened to all the asking me if I was sure about it and stuff?” Annabeth asked.
“I’ve always wanted you to leave. I just didn’t want to influence your decision,” Piper said.
Annabeth was quiet for a moment and said, “You’re actually a really good friend, huh?”
Piper gave her a cheeky grin and started the car. “I’m offended that it took you so long to notice.”
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deardiary17 · 3 years
Note
Hi! Since you’re still doing prompts what about Nine and Rose with kids? I just... really like the idea of Nine as a father and having a family again after the Time War.
~ adhd-jack-harkness
Hello, love!
I do hope it's to your liking! Sorry it took me so long, I've been going through all prompts in order and finally was able to write yours! <3
Without further ado, AO3 or below the cut.
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Rose feels like crying. She’s frustrated and bone-tired from keeping her three-year-old entertained and content while stuck in the Tardis while the Doctor is out for the spare parts. He specifically tells Rose that the planet where they landed is the mechanical superstore, nothing exciting.
He’s afraid that Rose will think that he has fun without her and their daughter while on the shopping outings.
Okay, this might be her fault, actually: once when she was nine months pregnant and he told her it was dangerous for her and the babe to be out where there was too much CO2 in the atmosphere, Rose threw a spectacular fit (complete with bouts of miserable tears) that he was tired of her already and was about to relax and to adventure without her fat pregnant self. The look on his face was sensational but Rose felt ugly and weary and she missed their adventures before pregnancy.
The kissing and Rose’s-body-worshipping session that followed after said scandal assured Rose that the Doctor didn't think her unattractive. An article about the danger of the lack of oxygen on the Tardis screen explained why he had to venture out alone.
“It’s dangerous when you’re running on all cylinders, love, and it’s plain deadly when you’re carrying a babe.”
Rose kissed him, hotly, again, before pushing him away from the Tardis doors and promising a rowdy night for when he returned.
The Doctor returned in fifty-two minutes.
The pregnancy hormones didn’t make Rose glow but they made her a sex machine when she wasn’t feeling sick.
The Doctor loved that and rarely strayed too far from her on the days when Rose felt good.
But back to her woes.
You’d think that the endless halls and rooms of the Tardis would be enough to keep a toddler busy and fascinated for weeks if not months (babies tend to imprint on something particular for a long time, so sometimes her and the Doctor have to re-listen and re-watch and re-read a book or a cartoon thirty times in a row). Not this time, however, and not this toddler.
April, the firstborn to the bond of the Doctor and Rose, doesn’t want to stargaze. She doesn’t want to draw with the safe-for-children fluorescent sharpies. The girl is not amused by the koi fish in the pond (she was obsessed with the fish mere days ago, came by the pond several times a day to feed and pet them), she moans and stomps her little foot when Rose offers to read a story about a space-travelling cat with glowing whiskers and electric tail (the story was usually read by the Doctor repeatedly). Alas, no stories for April today.
Rose is a hair’s breadth from bursting into tears. No books or video lessons ever prepared her for this. No amount of babysitting with little nieces and nephews ever frustrated her so.
After fifteen minutes come by and April grows more and more agitated and sad, Rose makes sure that her daughter hasn’t got a fever and starts worrying that something is surely wrong because, although April is slightly spoiled by her father, she’s never loud and fussy like this.
Rose wishes for the Doctor to be near. He’d know what was wrong and what to do exactly.
Fatherhood revealed his true self, that’s for sure. He is not irritable at all when April shoots questions like bullets at him, he offers to put their child to sleep when Rose is dead on her feet three weeks after giving birth, he measures the formula carefully (Time Lord - Human hybrid babies need special nutrients that Rose’s body can’t provide with the milk), he reads the fairy tales and stories eagerly and isn’t easily swayed and frustrated when April fusses and acts like a typical capricious three-year-old.
Unlike Rose.
But her back hurts and her feet are swollen and resembles sausages, she’s not out of the morning sickness stage yet, and she wants to sleep all the time.
Rose is in her second trimester of pregnancy (out of four ) and, miraculously, this one is harder on her than the first one.
It feels as though the worst traits of Human and Gallifreyan pregnancies mixed just to make her suffer.
The Doctor’s gaze is filled with sympathy and guilt every time he sees how miserable Rose is while hunched over the toilet, losing the little what she had for breakfast, when she looks at her reflection in the mornings and witnesses an ugly, bloated monster with matted hair and rashy cheeks, when she sleeps for twelve hours at a time and manages to catch a nap or two during the day.
While trying to take care of their daughter April.
Don’t get her wrong, the Doctor is a picture-perfect husband and a brilliant, generous father. There was never any “You’re a woman, it’s your job to birth and to raise babies” nonsense, never . Rose was surprised at first because the way the Doctor spoke about domestics made her sure that he would never greet the role of a father with his arms open.
Rose couldn’t be more wrong.
The Doctor feels guilty because the second pregnancy was an unplanned one. He told her that human bodies needed at least five years between pregnancies for said hybrid pregnancies not to be strenuous for the female bodies. He blames himself still, blames himself for his carelessness and for putting Rose if not in danger than in such an uncomfortable state.
Her heart melts and she peppers his handsome face with multiple kisses while April is asleep in her pretty little bed.
He does all the hard work while Rose dozes or cooks: he bathes April, spending an ungodly amount of time and water, blowing bubbles and playing with the rubber ducks (well, she says ducks but they aren’t really, but that’s not the point). He cleans the mess in the library after April spills the paint bottles on the luscious rug, the tells stories and rubs Rose’s tired legs while she’s breastfeeding or lulling their daughter to sleep (well, while she was breastfeeding because, to Rose’s great relief, April stopped needing breast milk after a year and eight months).
The Doctor is a perfect, attentive, kind and generous father, and Rose can’t love him any more than she does at the moment.
Today, however, the Doctor had to go out for the auction where some smuggled Gallifreyan technology was offered to the buyers. He told Rose that he could pilot the Tardis back to the Vortex and return to the auction when Rose felt good enough to deal with April (“It’s a time machine, Rose!”) but Rose sent him on his way, knowing that the Doctor, while eager to do domestics, still needed some “ alien time ” and he didn’t get it for a while
Rose is brought back from her musings by the sound of April throwing her toys in a wall in a fit of exhausted tears. Rose sighs wearily and silently starts to pick up the toys, not talking to the toddler, not reprimanding her for hurting the Tardis (the Tardis hums soothingly in Rose’s mind - a plastic toy would never hurt her), not commenting on April's behaviour. Fits like these tend to end soon, right? It is just a long-running fit, yes, and April will surely be out like a light in a peaceful sleep in a few minutes (because that’s what usually happened to the kids Rose babysat when she was 15).
Not today, obviously.
April stops throwing objects in chaotic directions and lifts her arms to Rose asking to be hugged. Rose’s heart breaks a little and she sits on the sofa near the fireplace, gently cradling her wailing daughter, humming a tune she heard from the Doctor when he sang Rose to sleep.
Something’s definitely not right.
Rose frets, April feels it and starts to cry louder, sniffling pitifully, and Rose feels her own tears running down her cheeks.
What is going on with her baby?
The child in her womb feels the distress, too, and starts to move nervously.
After several bleak moments filled with fear, the Tardis cheerfully alerts Rose of the Doctor’s appearance. The beautiful Time Ship also informs the Doctor that something’s up with his favourite girls.
A minute after stepping into the Tardis the Doctor appears in the library, witnessing the great distress brought upon his bond mate and his children.
“Rose, what happened? Are you hurt? Is April hurt?” the sonic screwdriver is already buzzing in the direction of Rose, her belly, then April, and the Doctor frowns after reading the results.
“Oh, love…,” he extracts April gingerly out of Rose’s arms and takes her into his embrace, putting his forehead to April’s forehead and gently touching the child’s temple with his right arm.
Rose’s heart starts to beat frantically, erratically, her instincts crying, begging her to do something - her baby is in unwell .
“Doctor, what is it?” her voice is unnaturally high and raspy, eyes stinging with the onslaught of new tears.
“Hush, Rose, give me a mo’,” the Doctor answers quietly.
A few minutes pass and nothing but the sound of their mismatched breathing and Rose’s sudden hiccups can be heard.
Finally, the Doctor stops his ministrations and sets the now calm April into his lap.
Rose stops breathing while waiting for the explanation, arms stretched towards her baby.
The Doctor scoops closer to Rose, settling April between them on the sofa. The toddler is playing with the sonic contentedly, unaware of the things that trouble Rose.
“What...Doctor, what...she’s never like that…,” Rose stammers, scared.
He hugs her closely with one arm, mindful of April between their bodies. His hands start to draw soothing patterns on Rose’s right forearm while he explains.
“You’re in the second trimester now, Rose. Our little one inside you starts to develop telepathic abilities and wishes for someone to share her emotions with. You can’t feel her mind yet but April can and she is scared. This morning, there was someone beside me in her mind, someone projecting their feelings into her mind, and she wasn’t ready.”
Rose just gapes at him, eyes wide, lips open, as he rushes to explain.
“D’you remember when you felt someone in your mind when you were four months pregnant with April?" at her nod, he continues further, "well, you knew it was your baby after I checked your and April’s brain in the medbay, didn’t you? You can still do that when I’m around to help you to connect to April but the little one in you can do telepathy with me and April without touch and a help,” the Doctor explains, stroking Rose’s hair.
Rose’s face dawns with understanding.
“Oh...oh! The baby can talk to you and April now?”
The Doctor smiles and hosts April onto his knees, making his legs jumping up and down, and April squeals happily as she starts moving with his legs.
“Yes, Rose, and to you, too, without my help, while still in your womb," when Rose tries to ask if the distress like today will happen again to April, the Doctor shushes her, "I installed basic shields into her mind, love, and she knows now that it’s her little sister trying to talk to her, not an evil intruder.”
Rose smiles and slugs onto the back of the sofa, exhausted.
The Doctor smiles ruefully. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
Rose hugs his elbow and snuggles closer to him. “You didn’t know it would happen today," before he can interrupt with more apologies, Rose adds, "it isn’t your fault. We couldn’t know that April would react that way, now, could we?”
The Doctor nods tersely and kisses her brow.
She can feel someone glowing with emotions now, someone trying to share their mind with Rose’s. Rose gently caresses her belly wondering how she didn’t notice the new presence in her mind this morning.
The family sits by the fire for some time before the Doctor helps Rose with collecting the scattered toys and Rose makes them a cup of tea while he teaches April to fill the lines in the colouring pictures carefully. Rose has a much-needed nap in the bedroom while the Time Lord and his daughter draw basic circular letters in Gallifreyan, the Tardis providing them with a tablet that doesn’t damage the eyes and allows them to correct mistakes easily.
Rose wakes up with April jumping up and down on the bed enthusiastically, shoving a paper with a complicated sequence of circles and dots inside the circles into her face, repeating “Mummy, mummy, it’s Rose!” loudly.
Rose embraces her daughter and kisses her cheek, thanking for the precious gift profusely, enjoying the happiness radiating from her firstborn. The babe inside her sends small thrills of contentment to her mind and to the Doctor’s. Rose looks up at her bond mate standing in the doorway and beckons him to come and share the familial bliss.
He stays with his girls long after all three of them are asleep, stroking Rose’s hair and belly lovingly, enjoying the gentle humming of innocent minds in his own.
The end.
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