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#but also the fact that he opened the video with an emotional guilt-trip is something i have just been wanting to talk about for a long time
dimonds456 · 4 months
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It is not okay to speculate whether or not someone is suicidal. If they claim to be, you should 100% take that shit seriously and give them the benefit of the doubt.
That said, if someone is using their own suicidality as a weapon to gain sympathy, emotionally manipulate someone, or to push other people down, GENUINELY fuck that person. While it's not okay for us to doubt that statement just because they're weaponizing it, that also doesn't mean we need to ALLOW that manipulation to convince us of something.
If you feel the need to use your terrible mental health as a step-stool in a conversation to make your side more heard than the other, you need to take a step back and re-evaluate yourself. And I am saying this as someone who ALSO has shit mental health and has been in the trenches with it before. I get it. I understand. But also STOP.
It's tempting to want to save your own ass over recognizing where you've gone wrong, but just a word of advise: recognizing where you've gone wrong WILL save your ass and give you better mental health and wisdom down the line.
However, emotionally manipulating people absolutely will not.
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sillystringedrat · 7 months
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Since recently learning abt the Lego Friends reboot I kinda went silly into a rabbit hole so now I have notes on the first ep and first impressions :3
Zac
* Definitely has some underlying social anxiety
* Lots of interests (that he makes up for other people)
* Gives major good boy dumb jock energy
* Seems to get caught up in his emotions and dismisses anything else that doesn’t have his attention, as seen with how he constantly dismisses Paisley when he’s enraptured with something.
* RAGING PEOPLE PLEASER
* Probably a good dose of bottled up emotions
* Oblivious to physical boundaries (get better soon honey)
* Oblivious also to some—mostly emotional—social cues
* LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH !!!!
* Probably has lived with some expectations to make him the way he is
Paisley
* Introverted, perhaps has social anxiety but not in the same way as Zac (parallels perhaps?)
* Knows her boundaries and is obviously miffed at being treated the way she was
* Has problems with being a pushover, but she doesn’t guilt trip her brain into thinking she must do it, only frustrated she can’t stick up for herself
* Seems to be used to Lianne’s shenanigans
* Unlike what I originally thought, she seems to have no problem opening up to someone—at least when under stress, seeing as she opened up about her stress with Zac to Nova.
* Also bottles up emotions, but unlike Zac presumably she does let them out when people are available
* Seems to not know how to properly socialize to make a new friend, despite this she is quite emotionally intelligent
Lianne
* Has ADHD, extroverted
* Literally just me smh
* Seems to know Paisley’s boundaries and they seem good enough friends that when she pushes Paisley’s comfort zone, Paisley isn’t that angry about it
* However she knows when someone has gone too far and will defend her friend
* Adopts introverts like it’s nobody’s business
* Has nothing but good intentions but sometimes puts people in situations she would better handle
Olly
* Gay ass /j (or is it a premonition?)
* Interested in fashion
* Loves being recognized for his work (perhaps his work isn’t that often? ) This thought is disproven his intro is literally him posing at his locker
Leo
* General good guy as of now
* FUNKY!!! BUTTON!!! UPS!!!
* Him, Aaliyah and Autumn seem to be pretty close friends already
*He’s my son
Nova
* Seems to be the typical nonchalant/distant one of the group for now
* A little arrogant about boasting her gamer status but eh
* So far the one putting the least effort into making dynamics with the other characters
* Just wants to chill
* Her gamer reputation seems to be a generally known fact considering Aaliyah comments if Zac plays video games around her. That or Aaliyah is the type of person to get to know every one of her classmates general interest, either one is likely.
* Can be pretty blunt
Aaliyah
* GIFTED OVERACHIEVER EXTRACURRICULAR KID ALERT
* Too busy than any child has the right to be
* A part of student council
* Very cheerful and welcoming to everyone
* Very organized and determined, a go-getter
* Probably lesbian (LISTEN—)
* Seems to not have much time for her friends although she would love to (Autumn and Leo don’t seem to mind much and seem to be understanding of her situation)
* DEFINITELY has been set up for high expectations
* Control freak to some extent
Idk if I’ll share my thoughts on the other eps, maybe if they’re long enough who knows .,.
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one-abuse-survivor · 7 months
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So I (16NB) have recently started to wonder if my parents are abusive, specifically my dad. My dad used to work as a social worker and an employee at a children's home, so he always is saying stuff like "This is what we were trained to do" and whatnot. When I was littler, up until like 12, he would pin me down or put me in full body locks when I misbehaved until I calmed down. I wouldn't be allowed to talk - he would hold me there for hours even if I was asking him to let me go or telling him I was having trouble breathing because he's a 200 smth pound 6'2 man putting his entire weight on me. One time, when I was around 9(?) I bit him while he had me pinned to the floor because he wouldn't let me go even after I begged for over 30 minutes. When I bit him he slapped me in the face so hard my ears started to ring and I was disoriented. I don't remember what happened after that tbh. A few months ago, when I was 15, we got into a fight because he was blocking the door to my room and not letting me leave or close it because I used to self harm and I "had a bad day so he wanted to make sure I don't relapse." I kept asking him to let me out because arguments make me feel unsafe and whatnot but he refused. I said if he didn't let me out I'd climb out through my window. I guess he thought I was bluffing but I went to my window and kicked open the screen. He pushed me onto my bed and slapped me twice, my cheeks stung like hell. Another time he pushed me up the stairs at our house when I sat down and started crying on one of the steps, and I got cut on a nail. I still have a scar from that. Both he and my mom (my dad more often) would take videos of me when I was having a meltdown/tantrum and threaten to post it on facebook unless I calmed down and apologized.
Hi, nonnie.
This is most definitely abuse. Just the fact that your dad pinned you down with his whole wright when you were under 12, making it hard for you to breathe, is horrifying. That's seriously dangerous, and, although I'm not a social worker and I haven't had any training on de-escalating dangerous situations with children, I highly doubt that cutting a child's airflow in any way is a safe or effective de-escalation method. It sounds to me like a violent and dangerous tactic to scare an already struggling child into submission.
And, look, even if he was truly doing something he'd been trained to do safely to de-escalate some situations, why the hell would he do it to his own child?? When you're with your kids you should act like a parent, not like a social worker. But, honestly, that's besides the point here, because the truth is that no child deserves to be pinned down forcefully by an adult, ever. Not unless it's literal life-or-death.
And slapping is also physical abuse, especially so if it's hard enough to make your ears ring. So is locking a child inside their room, especially when you're supposedly doing it for their safety when that child is explicitly telling you that they're feeling unsafe precisely because of what you're doing. So is pushing your own child so violently they hurt themself.
And, gosh, nonnie, the fact they recorded your meltdowns and threatened to post them online is just the most vile and horrific thing. That's emotional blackmail. That's emotional abuse. That's guilt-tripping. It's just. Vile. I'm truly sorry they put you through that.
You didn't deserve any of this. As a kid, you deserved for your parents to talk your emotions through with you, to hold you and to tell you it's okay to feel sad or angry or scared from time to time. You deserved help learning how to navigate your emotions. And, when you felt like self-harming, you deserved to hear your parents say, "I'm here for you. You're not alone in this. How can I help?" NOT to be locked in your room against your will and have your safety and your emotional needs ignored and your agency taken away.
What your parents, and especially your dad, have done to you is extremely violent, scary, and abusive, and it sounds really traumatic. I hope some of this helps to hear, and I hope you know that you didn't deserve absolutely any of it.
Sending a big virtual hug ❤️
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timextoxhajima · 4 years
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Playlist Feels: SHORT SERIES PART 1
Member: stripper LEE JUYEON
Genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers because why the fuck not lmao and it fits the song anyw
A/N: at the point of writing this I WAS TIRED AND SLIGHTLY DRUNK BUT LETS GO. also, NOT part of the GEN Z series, i have racer juyeon in stall for you in gen z ;) also i told V that i was never going to write a stripper au for jy until he goes shirtless or grinds on a prop like kim kai did in artificial love... but when i saw this video, i thought of nothing BUT kim jongin. their styles are pretty similar... not to mention kai had an undercut phase too... conclusion: dana is in a mess and she’s drunk
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“i know it hurts to smile but you try to.”
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what is a story?
a story has a start, an arc, an ending. 
is it pages of cream colored sheets stacked atop one another, word after word after word printed in ink?
is it the lyrics that your neighbour sings in the shower because he associates the beauty of the lyrics with some heartbreak he’s been through, regardless of when he experienced it?
is it the way someone walks in the room and steals everybody’s attention with the sheer amount of confidence and intimidation he was radiating?
so, what is a story?
ups-and-downs. friendship. love. heartbreak. faults.
‘it was my fault, and it always will be.’
god wouldn’t have allowed you to forget that face even if you were dead, even if you had your skull cracked open and your brain was being eaten out in bits like Hannibal Lecter savouring the flesh of his victim. 
it feels like a witch’s long, untamed nails were being dragged across your skin, and she was breathing down your ear, whispering secrets of potions and words to curses like they were part of a song. 
he who is inked in your heart made of stone will never be removed.
blood that runs thick in the color of love forbids a stake foretold.
bones crumble to dust like fine sand in the wind,
for you will never forget that you have sinned.
the scars on your heart slowly tears apart like a wound that never healed, and every step he makes on the space makes you wish that he was stepping on your soul instead. 
not because you were sexually frustrated, but because you deserved it.
“y/n, lighten up! we’re here to have fun, not watch your mopey ass sulk!”
“yeah, you’ve been so stressed lately, don’t you think it’s time to loosen up?”
“for the record,” the music starts to thump in your stomach and the lights dim into a dark shade of red. “i didn’t want to come to a strip club.”
blood has covered the light, for his soul cries over your misdoings. 
“ugh, you’re such a party pooper,” she huffs, visibly frustrated when her forehead creases into lines under her makeup. 
the memory of you aggressively avoiding being dragged to a strip club rings in your ears like a fire alarm. sometimes, you would’ve loved nothing more besides throw a chair when she acts like that; making it seem like you wanted to do something when you’ve clearly stated you didn’t.
unfortunately, you were used to her shitty little habit. 
coercion sprints itself across your arm when she suddenly grabs it, violently shaking you when the music starts. 
dread washes over you like wildfire when he starts to move, and he suddenly becomes one with the music. 
the whiteness of his skin grabs you by the neck and sticks an ice-cold popsicle down your throat. you could still taste the sourness of the lemon flavoured one he would always give you, even though he liked it too.
the shiny, glittery, loose clothes hanging around his physical existence freezes your muscles the way medusa could turn people into stone. the hairs on your arms stand when you remember how small you looked in his clothes.
and his eyes. they hold a dagger at your heart, tip already sinking into the skin on your chest. 
black, sticky, dense tears flood out every hole of your soul’s mouth.
it takes a massive amount of effort to keep every dollop of excruciatingly painful memories to yourself, for you would’ve thrown up your dinner if you didn’t invest that kind of effort.
in your head, you were a demon coated in tears and smudged ink. 
stuck in time like a statue, your eyes were hollow and your voice was no longer. 
red, the color of blood mixed with poison was spewing out every hole from your face, your knees hitting the ground where the a bed of thorns were laid out carelessly.
the same way you laid out the bed of roses for him, only to become his thorns.
the start of the story began when you first locked eyes with him first in the neighbourhood library near your school. 
you never really liked studying in school, not when there were always noisy kids tossing a ball around or someone loudly crunching on chips next to you.
it doesn’t take long for you to notice that he’s been watching you, resulting in you warily turning around to look behind you to see if he was looking at someone else.
a soft chime in the hall pulls your attention to the old clock hanging above the entrance of the library, and an announcement rings through the PA system.
“dear visitors, the time now is 11pm. kindly exit the library and dispose of any litter you may have with you. we hope you’ve enjoyed your time here and we hope to see you soon.”
it was exactly because it was so late, that there was nobody left in the library.
carefully, you return your attention back to him, music still playing softly in your earpieces.
his eyes were glued to his books as he clears them off the table, and you remain seated, taking your time to pack your things as well.
you were hoping he doesn’t come over, so naturally, you panic when he does.
feigning the mindless scrolling on your phone doesn’t do much when he presses his palm flat on to the surface of the table, robbing you of an option to ignore him.
well, you could, but you recognise him. 
how could anybody not recognise him?
his eyes meet yours and intimidation fills you like you were drowning, but he suddenly squats with the support of his hand gripping onto the edge of the table, eyes darting away.
a frown finds itself on your face and you watch cautiously when he stands up again, placing a pen and a candy wrapper on the table before you.
“planning on hiding in the bathroom and staying overnight?”
“i... uh-- no...”
“okay,” releasing the edge of the table, he grips the two straps over his shoulders by the sides of his chest and nods towards the exit. “time to go then.”
lee juyeon had always been a rather mysterious character in school. he was two years your senior but it wasn’t surprising to know that he was friends with three of your classmates, one of them being your closest friends. 
when he wasn’t smiling, he looked like he could kill someone; drive a knife through their faces and not feel a pinch of guilt.
but when he does, it’s like setting off a billion firecrackers at once.
and by firecrackers, you mean the girls in school swooning over him.
if you had to choose a word to describe the way you looked at him, it had to be ‘indifferent’. you couldn’t deny that he was a great painting to look at and pretend ‘ugliness’ wasn’t a thing, but you’ve never really bothered to invest your emotions on anybody you deemed too far to reach.
so when he offers to walk you back to your place because of how late it was, it surprises you. 
“why do you study in the community library and not the school library? i thought i’d see you with sunwoo or eric or hyunjun in school.”
“uh... i stay for awhile just to watch them mess around until they lose their stamina... the school library is filled with idiots who eat and make a fool of themselves which make it not-conducive... so i thought the community library is a better idea. besides, the school library closes at 7pm.”
“ah,” he laughs, and you could hear the swooning in the back of your head. “why am i not surprised?”
silence. 
the awkward atmosphere was killing you, and it was difficult to swallow the fact that you could not think of anything to say.
luckily, you stay just about a ten minute walk from the library, so juyeon walks right past your residence without noticing you’ve stopped.
“uh-- juyeon...”
“huh? oh,” he halts in his tracks and turns around, sheepishly taking large steps back to you. 
“thank you for walking me back.”
“it’s alright.”
silence, again.
“...goodnight.”
“goodnight, y/n.”
you purse your lips and offer him a polite smile, slightly surprised that he knows your name. 
then again, he knows three of your classmates, and you were good friends with hyunjun. 
he doesn’t leave until the lift takes you away from the lobby, the view of him waving to you with his unwaxed, tousled hair makes you smile to yourself once out of sight.
the arc of the story comes when you start to find candy under your desk a few weeks later. 
you had stopped visiting the library because you were cooped up at home working on projects you needing your laptop for. 
the sugar left on your desk seemed to be some kind of coaxing to get you to go back to the library.
the candy on the desk was the same one that you ate at the library, the one with the wrapper that juyeon picked up--
“hyunjun,” you call out to the boy who was passed out on the table, walking towards him. 
“go away, i want to sleep--”
“you’ll sleep in class anyway,” grabbing his shoulders, it takes you some effort to peel him off the desk and make him sit upright. “you know who left this and i want to know who.”
hyunjun looks at you with bloodshot eyes, brows furrowing as he messes up his own hair.
“you sound like you already know who, so why do i need to bother telling you?”
the plastic of the candy wrapper crinkles in your hold as hyunjun’s head meets the table again.
again, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that juyeon might have a crush on you, and neither does it take long for you to reciprocate. 
being with juyeon was like sitting on a car and going on a long road trip. 
not many bumps, not many surprises, frankly, you were more than happy he was such an easy man to be with. 
when juyeon graduates, he gets admitted into a performing arts academy in another city, leaving you in school where you still had to wear school uniform and wake up even before the sun rose.
but he makes an effort to come back to visit you, knowing that he was the older one with more freedom. 
this long road trip, however, turns into a rollercoaster without warning, without your realisation.
the institute you enroll yourself into after graduation was located further away from the academy than your old school, but juyeon promises that he’d be with you whenever you could, and you promised the same.
distance becomes the first problem, when you realise how taxing it is to spend two hours travelling across the country to see him, and spend more time sitting on a bus or a train than actually being with him.
it starts to wear you away at the edges, fire burning the corners of ivory sheets with mandarin colored flames and leaving ashes the shade of coal on the floor.
then when juyeon was in his final year and you were halfway through your four year course, it was almost like he vanishes off the face of earth.
it worried you at first, that it felt like he was treating this four year relationship like he mattress he could fall back on anytime he wanted to. 
you didn’t blame him, but it stings in the wounds that draw on your heart after a considerable amount of time. 
was this what a long-distance-relationship encapsulated? how do couples who don’t even stay in the same country get through it?
you miss his scent, his arms around you, the way he smiles at you whenever you say something stupid or when he doesn’t get a joke and you had to explain it to him. 
it feels like he has forgotten you, and it rips you apart that you knew why, that you understand he has his own responsibilities as a student in a prestigious performing arts academy. 
but you can’t help but to think: if i could find time that i wanted to provide him, then why couldn’t he?
there was an expectation, and he didn’t meet it. naturally, it becomes a parasite in your love for juyeon. not only had you not seen him in months, his replies begin to spread out across days. 
he doesn’t reply until more than 24 hours later, and even when he does, they are short. they are dry.
you start to wonder why he was being so irresponsible with a relationship, especially one that he initiated four years ago. your thoughts start to run wild in your head, and you worry if he had just been playing with you the entire time, and now he was probably kissing someone else in some dance studio in another city.
no, juyeon would never.
then the day came that he appears on social media after a long time. the light that filled you was so intense that you smiled just by noticing he’s finally not dead.
yet, you would’ve much preferred death over seeing another girl on his social media. 
he didn’t have the time to respond to you, but he has the time to go out with another girl?
you leave him a text, trying to keep your cool and convince yourself that she was just a friend, and that he’d reply you as soon as possible if he knew you were feeling upset about him spending time with another girl.
hurt converts itself into something physical when he doesn’t reply. 
one day passes, then two. 
and soon, the whole week flies past. 
calls don’t get through, much less messages.
just what was he doing?
you worry and wonder that he no longer loved you and he was merely running from you in hopes you’d leave him alone.
where had you gone wrong? were you a bad partner?
your grades started to take a toll, and memories of juyeon started to clog up in your head as if you weren’t already trying to tear your heart out of your chest.
juyeon no longer loves you. 
he’s just having the time of his life in another city, with another girl, probably kissing her in the dance studio and running his hands all over her.
the mere thought kills you, so being able to actually imagine it in your head peels your skin off your body, leaving you in a wrecked mess on the floor with tissues used to wipe your tears. 
then, sangyeon came along.
the fresh graduate was flustered when he sees a second-year student fallen apart in a tutorial room on his trips back to the university. but he recognises you from a branching out event you attended a month ago.
it lasted two weeks, and sangyeon was your teammate as a senior, so he was more than aware of your life and existence. 
sang yeon stays a safe distance away from you while you try with way too much effort to calm your sobs down. 
it’s not a surprise when it fails though, and you break down even harder with the force of someone beating you up
sangyeon doesn’t hesitate to scoot over to your side and pull you into his arms.
it was tricky, trying to recall what exactly you told him. your eyes were swollen and your face must’ve looked like a plum while your tears stained his shirt. 
having someone’s shoulder to cry on was so comforting. it fills a gaping hole in your chest that shouldn’t be there in the first place. 
sangyeon’s voice runs through your head like honey, honey that soothes the scalding burns juyeon left on your skin. 
you knew it was dangerous, and there was a thin line to cross if you chose to let sangyeon through the doors of your heart. 
most your friends weren’t truly aware of the status of the relationship, thus telling sangyeon everything at one go combusts you even further. 
the urge to have someone’s skin pressed against yours, promising you that you were safe whenever they were around becomes painful to reject. 
you will never forget the look in sangyeon’s eyes when you kiss him mid-sentence. 
sangyeon tastes exactly his voice sounded, sweet and soft. his eyes were wide open the second you ram your lips into his. 
his reluctance slips across your arm, feeling a small amount of force being applies to your elbow when he realises what was happening.
but that pressure softens, and he lets you treat him like juyeon, in attempt to cure your own broken heart.
you will make the biggest mistake you will ever make in your life that night, and that was letting yourself pretend sangyeon was juyeon.
not only were you the one who initiated the kiss in attempt to redeem the lack of affection you were none but craving, you chose to pretend juyeon was the one who spent the night leaving fluttering kisses all over your skin. to whisper words of comfort into your ears and kiss your tears away.
when you wake up and see a pair of eyes that shouldn’t be in such close proximity to yours, it feels like a sword has been driven through your stomach.
then you hear hell knocking on your door, but he sounds like love and missing.
it is a crack, then a rip and a complete separation of your body into two when juyeon realises the door of your dorm room is not locked, and he has that bright smile on his face when he walks into the room, thinking you were asleep.
everything happens under a minute, and sangyeon wasn’t even fully awake by the time juyeon was in the room, seeing you in bed with another man.
the memory of a fight the magnitude of tremendous proportions etches itself in your brain like a parasite. 
juyeon literally hurls sangyeon out the door, the only piece of clothing on him being his underwear. 
there was an effort to stop juyeon, because you knew it for yourself that it was not sangyeon’s fault.
it was yours, and it always will be.
juyeon has the man’s clothes thrown out the door and he slams it shut in his face before you could say anything to sangyeon, locking both himself and you in the room.
have you ever seen the eyes of someone who has absolutely no clue what he did wrong?
they are broken, confused, hurt, angry. juyeon’s were coveted with a layer of tears just seconds away from billowing over his lower lids when he sees that your face was reddening from shame as well. 
there was a heavy silence that could’ve killed you, and you wished it did. 
“are you waiting for me to ask--”
“no.”
“so what’s your explanation?”
you dump yourself on the edge of your bed, fingers pressing into your temples. if you pressed hard enough, maybe you could drill your fingers into your skull and rip out your brain.
“y/n.”
why did your own name sound so threatening when it comes from his lips?
“why did you do it? the fact that we were saving it so we could be each other’s first after marriage but you go ahead and do it with someone else--”
“oh, is that the only thing you care about? sex?”
“no, that’s not what i meant--”
“i thought you’d be pissed off over the fact that i have another guy in the picture regardless of our relationship--”
“which is exactly what i’m asking right now!”
the skin on your forehead gets pulled back when your palms hold back your hair. being interrogated by juyeon in just a bra and home shorts felt so humiliating, so degrading, but you can’t help but to have that pang of hatred for juyeon.
he was the one who incited this. all you did was react in a way disproportionate to your feelings.
“why’d you do it, y/n?”
his voice is shaky, and you were terrified to look up at him because you knew he was already crying. 
it shatters your heart; you were angry.
with him. 
with yourself.
his feet shuffles against the floor and he kneels before you, eyes desperately searching yours for any sign of remorse. his hands wrap around yours but you pull away with resentment, and you can’t help but to feel like he was guilt tripping you into apologising. 
it was my fault, but he incited it. 
“y/n--”
“stop, don’t touch me--”
“tell me what’s wrong, we’ll figure i--”
“tell you ‘what’s wrong’?” it takes alot of courage to shove him off and you lose sight of what was fuelling your emotions. “i’ll tell you what’s wrong, lee juyeon.”
he is shocked and you could almost hear something crack when he hears his name come off your tongue like you were regurgitating poison.
“you disappear off the face of earth for god knows how long and then when you finally show up again, it’s with another girl?”
it takes you awhile to notice you were now standing, and he was leaning back with his palms flat on the floor behind him. 
tears were streaming down the corners of his eyes and you know it was solely from the fact that he’s caught you red-handed but you weren’t showing signs of regret or remorse. 
it eats you that he thinks this is not his fault.
“look me in the eye and tell me confidently that you’ve been a responsible partner.”
gut-wrenching surprise writes itself across his face when the demand leaves your lips like venom. 
your eyes finally give in, hiccups starting to form in the back of your throat when the still silence gives you some kind of hint that this relationship was as good as gone. 
“i wait for you to reply for three days, sometimes more, and all you do is say ‘okay’ or ‘alright’ or ‘nah’-- how am i supposed to be convinced you are invested in this relationship? i haven’t seen you in like, what? four months?! not a proper text, no proper calls, you don’t bother to visit me though you know i can’t because of my work--”
the breathlessness in your chest is a cage with loosened screws and nails, an angry, uncontrollable beast inside waiting to lash out and give juyeon a tight slap across the face.
“ask yourself, lee juyeon,” the sobs become one with the hiccups, and droplets of agonising reality falls off the point of your chin. “who was that girl and why did you not bother to text me back? call me?”
his face falls as if he wasn’t already in a million pieces. the silence feels like a dozen paper cuts on your fingers and your lips cracking in the cold. it sounds like a the car on a roadtrip screeching to a violent stop, and it hurls both of you through the windshield.
your soul is bleeding when you see a muscle in his face twitch, because you now know he is as guilty as you are, even if he didn’t sleep with her. 
heartbreak forms a hand on the crown of your head and pushes you to nod. the tears along your jawline get wiped away with the back of your hand, the mucus running down your philtrum is a mess on your bare chest and your face is not recovered from the excessive crying in the last twelve hours. 
juyeon is quiet, but screaming in pain through his eyes. 
the weight of how broken the both of you were slams down on both your shoulders without warning, and you find enough energy to gulp and clear your throat.
“get out.”
the scene looks like a freeze-frame, and you shake your head at the sight of his unwillingness.
“get out, juyeon.”
it feels like a knife is being dragged across your throat when you say the last words you thought you’d ever say to him.
“we are through.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PART 2
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jadespeedster17 · 4 years
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I just got done watching a video that pointed out how a couple in a book series I read is bad for each other. Thus, after that trip and long conversations with my fellow fanders IRL I’m going to be picking apart couples in this web series and why some would work and others wouldn’t. 
This will be Part 1
Now keep in mind this is just my personal opinions from what I’ve read and what I’ve seen. Some of it is delving into Fandom area but others will be what we see in Cannon as well.  Sometimes couples I like will be ones I pick on because objectively they just aren’t good for each other. 
With that in mind let’s get started with the most well known couples.
Prinxiety (Roman/Virgil) - Everyone's favorite couple to either put through so much angst that I think these people either are really moody or have went through alot of shit. Like seriously, the amount of angst you find just is astonishing... And sometimes very unrealistic, but I digress.  But, though I like this couple in some instances, I find their relationship to be toxic and unreliable. 
Take into account their personalities in the series. Roman often shows his love by belittling or insulting a person. A thing we as fanders know to be because of his own insecurities. Now in comparison to self loathing and hating Virgil, who just takes it and even contributes to it. Regardless of if it’s just Virgil’s sense of humor, that still doesn’t make it right. How many friends do you know that insult you or don’t help you see the good in you. I can’t think of many instances where Roman, like Patton, would pick up Virgil after he tries to self-hate. Patton actively, though in a babying way, at least tries to tell Virgil he’s wrong about his hate. Which as we see takes our anxiety friend by surprise. 
Also there is the fact that Roman, as we saw in SvS Redux, really needs someone to be there for him. Virgil however also needs this. And this implies that if they were to be together it’s just be a struggle to get anywhere.  Not to say it couldn’t work, but it’d take alot of time. Roman would need to be more confident in himself and not take it out on others. And Virgil would be to be confident also and stop taking harsh words and such lying down. ‘
Though it is clear from the newest asides they do care about each other. 
All around a couple that has some issues that would make a romantic relationship hard. Platonic sure, I can see it because it works, but not romantic as neither I feel would suit the others needs. 
Logicality (Logan/Patton) - I do actually love this pairing, it’s cute and fluffy at times when the fandom puts them together. Not alot of angst I’ve found despite being popular couple number 2. However, with how the cannon portrays them to each other, they won’t work as a romantic couple in real life. 
To explain, Patton is very controlling, we see this through out the series. We know he doesn’t mean to be sometimes, but clearly being the side Thomas listens to the most, means he clearly has alot of power in the mindscape. Logan, by contrast, is very cold at times and very distant when it comes to his feelings or expressing them. Something he needs to work on. 
Several times we see Patton trying to force Logan to do things he doesn’t want to. The episode I feel this is highlighted in the most is Learning New Things About Ourselves. Logan isn’t one to just open up about things like how Patton, Roman, even Virgil are. Being these sides deal the most in feelings of many times.  Logan himself is a logical side, he things critically and prefers facts to solve problems. Patton however is very open and very feeling. And tries through out the episode to get Logan to express. Logan clearly is reluctant to do so, because it’s not his area and it’s not his thing. 
With people like this you can’t force them to open up, you can’t force them to express to you. It’ll just end terribly when you do and can even push them farther away. Which is what I think if happening with Logan.  Throughout this episode Logan expresses faintly that he doesn’t want to be see as a ‘Joke’ to them, because after all he’s logic. But the other keep disregarding him. Something it feels they are even guilt tripping him into it. Though we do see that Thomas tells them not to force Logan. 
To sum it up, Patton and Logan as a couple would be a rocky one at best because Logan can’t emote well and Patton can’t back off well. Both need to learn this because they could be a couple. 
Dukceit (Remus/Janus) - We don’t know alot about their relationship to really go into how they function. But if what Thomas said about the fandom being pretty spot on about their time together, then we can assume that as a couple they are pretty stable at times compared to most.  Janus clearly cares about Remus enough to listen to him and take in what he has to say where others won’t. And Remus, by extension, shows his appreciation by ‘gifting’ Janus with things. Possibly Remus seems to just love the attention and loves that someone doesn’t find him gross or immature. 
Janus clearly, if we are to go by fandom and Thomas’s words, wants Remus happy and they do seem to share a connection and lots of laughs.  I don’t ship these guys though, but if we are to go off of these things they would work rather well as a couple. Unless we find out more, this seems to be the outcome. 
Royality (Roman/Patton) - Now I’m not here to argue about how characters in a relationship would treat others around them. Just how they were treat each other. While I am of the opinion this couple would be a bit of a powerhouse to others they do work well together in some sense. Both are peppy and upbeat, Roman easily picks up Patton when he’s in a funk and vice versa. The amount of serotonin between these two dorks is something to marvel at. 
Granted in the new episode we see that there is some tension with Patton having really forced his own morals on Roman and this leads to tension when accepting new sides. But, as a couple they would work. I can’t see points that they lead each other one nor points were one tries to control the other, and in terms of words it’s mostly of encouragement. Patton clearly does care about Roman and Roman to Patton. This pairing really works well, has some rocky moments that can easily work through as no couple truly is 100% perfect, as I pointed out with the others. 
But out of all of the ones mentioned this one has the least amount of rough patches. They work together and don’t actively put the other down or force them 24/7. This does happen, but not often.  And I don’t pair them often, just from time to time. 
Analogical (Logan/Virgil) - These two are actually really adorable together and through out the series I can confidently say they would be great for each other. And this isn’t just me saying it, from all the evidence we see Logan and Virgil together just works. 
Logan has a calm disposition and is firm when he has to be, never once have I really seen them lash out at each other with harsh words. Only instance that comes to mind is when Virgil calls Logan a ‘Clueless idiot’. But that’s about it, any other time, even during the debate, afterwards they aren’t at each others throats and both seem to be rather comfortable around each other. Logan could easily be the rock Virgil needs to stand on his own but in his own time.
Virgil however is a good push for Logan, as he himself knows the value of taking your time. I can’t seem Virgil in the cannon ever forcing Logan, even in LNTAO Virgil was the only side that didn’t belittle Logan that much. Virgil was even reluctant, even if he was pressured into it in the end, and I can only think of once in which he did say something harsh to Logan... which was after Logan lashed out at Roman. (With semi good reason). Virgil easily could be that silent partner that Logan needs to feel something but within his own time. 
Granted it’d be a long courtship and time for them to learn each others cues as Logan is hard to give out love. But once he does open up he’s a mess that needs to be loved back. Same goes for Virgil, but where they work and Prinxiety doesn’t is that they are both used to giving gestures and reading the air. Where we have established Roman isn’t really good at.  Virgil could pick up easily when Logan is having problems and when to approached. And Logan is good at understanding when people need space and isn’t afraid to just talk about it rather than let things linger. 
They’d still have their problems, what couple doesn’t. But it wouldn’t be near as bad as some of the others. 
Moxiety (Patton/Virgil) - Where to start with this... I mean, it’s not a bad pairing but it’s also not a great pairing. Not for reasons some think. Honestly I could care less about the argument of ‘Son/Father’ shit that is peddled. It’s been established that Patton thinks of all the sides as ‘Kiddos’ even Thomas, even if none of it is true and Virgil and Patton are technically the same fucking age as Thomas is. Patton just is the group ‘dad’ and truly believes this. 
I digress, as for how they work as a couple it could be good or bad. This is one that it really does depend on how you look at the series as a while. Me, I’m on the fence.  On the one hand Patton is a good self esteem booster for Virgil when the other needs it. And Virgil is calm and understanding of how much feelings can be.  On the other hand Patton can be very forceful with Virgil and sometimes even baby him as we saw in the halloween episode. And Virgil does resent this, stating he is strong enough and doesn’t need to be coddled. 
Clearly there is a imbalance of power there also as Patton is possibly and ‘older’ side as in he’s been around with Thomas much longer. Thus is why he’s the one most listened to. While Virgil doesn’t have as much power as the other sides in terms of the amount he’s listened to.  It’s getting better though, Patton is trying to baby him less and let him really be heard. He’s listening to Virgil rather than assuming things. It’s slow, but it’s working.
In the end, it’s really on how you see it. This could either be a really good couple or really bad couple depending on how one writes them. Cannonly, it could work with time, but we’ll have to see as the series goes. 
Logince (Roman/Logan) - Not sure where to start with this one. Maybe at the fact Roman picks on Logan just as much as he does Patton. Or maybe with how Logan doesn’t take it laying down, most of the time, and does have a sharp tongue to lash back. 
These two are at tensions with each other, even after Why We Get Out Of Bed In The Mornings. Heck that was a whole episode about the tensions! And there is still tension as we go. Roman really needs to get a handle on his self esteem issues before pursuing any relationship I feel. Something I think is going to come up as Thomas enters one.
Logan has been seen lashing out verbally and once even psychically at Roman. He felt bad afterwards, but we can’t say it wasn’t justified with how Roman treated him. Having problems with feeling like he’s not listened to, interrupted, and something even insulted.  And again Roman’s problems with insulting others to boost his confidence comes back into play. Why it doesn’t affect him with Patton is because with the moral side Roman feels wanted and needed, with the others he lashes out because they make him feel that way. 
Logan even did insult some of Roman’s passions, which we know to be a sore spot for the creative side. Roman already has many problems as he’s limited by what is morally right and wrong. He puts time and effort into his things, and it hurts when someone comes along and insults you’re hard work.
Now whether they meant to do this too each other or not is up or debate. You could argue that Roman’s problem is internal and not directed at anyone. You could argue the same for Logan, or argue that the others need to learn that what they are doing is harsh even if they don’t mean it.  Regardless this couple would really need to work on these problems before ever getting together. It’s not something small like communication or feeling problems and can be fixed with the right person. This is them both putting the other know, internationally or not. And that’s not a healthy relationship at all. 
I’d say after they work through that Roman could be with just about any side. And some goes for Logan with Patton or Roman. With Virgil it’s not a huge problem as Logan never once has taken out his frustration on him, might be due to Virgil’s calmer nature, who knows. 
So yeah, that’s the end of part one. I’m not saying none of this would work, I’m saying with how they are NOW they wouldn’t work. We’ll have to see have the series progress how it goes. 
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retrievablememories · 3 years
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this is me trying | lucas
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title: this is me trying pairing: lucas x black!reader genre: angst request: “Hey do you think you can do a sequel about Lucas’ No manners like an aftermath of what happened after he hung up on her and what she’s been up too all this time. And what Lucas decided to do.” word count: 2.1k warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of an abortion, relationship problems, cursing a/n: that banner is boring af, but photoshop is a bitch who didn’t save my previous file and i don’t have time to play all night
the sequel to no manners. okay... i decided to go for a different type of ending here since i tend to make the couple break up/stay broken up in these angsty stories...and i know people tend to like endings where things are resolved...though EYE personally would not recommend this irl 💀
It’s been a few months since you’ve seen Lucas on any video call, and even longer since you’ve seen him in person. These couple months alone have seemed even longer and more tiresome than the previous duration of time when you were kept apart from him.
You haven’t heard from him in that time span, either, which makes you feel...it’s hard to know how to feel, especially with how you yourself froze him out to avoid admitting the truth. It’s easy enough to know what he’s doing through WayV’s posts on YouTube and Instagram and wherever else, but you don’t enjoy knowing next to nothing about how he’s doing—like you’re merely another fan when you’re actually his wife.
You also understand, though, that maybe you don’t have much room to complain with your previous actions. That doesn’t make it any less painful. Especially with him ignoring your small attempts to reach out to him.
Despite Sharia’s earlier advice, you decide to stay at your job and continue avoiding Daniel at all costs. Staying at home and having nothing to do during this conflict would only make you slip further into depression, which is the last thing you need right now. You’re in no state of mind to be trying to find another job and doing countless interviews, either. 
Luckily, Sharia doesn’t mind helping you stay away from Daniel or create the perfect facade that your marriage is still doing fine despite it being the exact opposite. Everyone at your job still thinks things are as they have always been, and you’re relieved for that.
That’s about the only point of relief in your life, though.
You’re reaching the end of your limit with how much you can endure of staying in that same house without Lucas, being reminded of him in every corner of every room. His clothes in the closet, his side of the bed, his favorite coffee mugs in the kitchen. You’ve already tried hiding some of his things out of sight so you wouldn’t have to face unwilling memories, but it’s too difficult to completely erase a presence that fills every aspect of your home. And that’s not something you really want to do, anyway—which makes you feel more downtrodden and unable to let go.
You decide you need to get out, get away, change your surroundings. It’s wearing you thin to keep coming back to this empty house everyday, drifting around the space like a misplaced ghost. If you stay here another month, you think you might lose your sanity once and for all. So, eventually, you start packing. Sharia doesn’t mind letting you stay over for a little while, and you are grateful for the welcome distraction and comfort that being in her company will provide.
On a day when you’re making the last few preparations to leave for Sharia’s place, you hear a car pulling up in the driveway. You’re confused for a few seconds, as you weren’t expecting any visitors and today isn’t the day Sharia is supposed to come over. However, your heart kicks up in its rhythm when you go to the window in the kitchen to check. It’s Lucas’s car.
For a few moments, you’re unsure what to think or how to react. You’ve wanted to see him for so long, but now that he’s here, you want him gone again. What will he say when he sees your things packed? Will he even care? Most importantly, what has he come here for, after all this time?
You don’t have much more time to think about these things before Lucas is getting out of the car and walking up to the door. You stand in your spot in the kitchen, frozen as the key turns in the lock.
Lucas walks into the house cautiously, as if he doesn’t know how to properly approach this environment after being gone for so long. When he catches sight of you through the kitchen entryway, he stops in his tracks, still standing in the living room.
Both of you stare at each other for a few long and agonizing seconds. His eyes are still weary and hurt like they were the night you told him the news, but there’s a question floating there, too.
“You’re not…?” His eyes drop down to your stomach, the front of your shirt, and it looks the same as he remembers it being months ago, before he left for China, despite you telling him of your pregnancy. If there’s one thing he remembers, it’s that.
“No,” you respond quietly, “There’s no way I could go through with it.”
Lucas pauses, then nods, though he doesn’t say anything else for a few long moments—nothing to explain his sudden appearance, nothing to comment on the decision you made.
He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at the ground, shifting his jaw.
“What...did you come here for?” you finally ask. The words sound harsh to your ears, and you wince internally, but you don’t know what else to do to make some kind of headway.
“Just...getting some things.” Lucas rubs the back of his neck warily, as if he’s not sure this is the right answer. Or maybe he just doesn't want to be here right now at all, having this conversation with you.
“Getting some things,” you echo. “Are you…” You’re not sure what you want to ask right now. “Leaving?”
“What’s the point of questioning me about it? Aren’t you doing the same thing?” Lucas’s eyes shift to one of your suitcases in the middle of the living room, still sitting open.
“Yes, but...you don’t even understand why I’m doing it. You’re just leaving. Are we both just going to abandon this house without even talking it out? That’s just the end of everything?” Now that you’ve found your voice again, the questions keep coming.
Lucas comes forward to step into the kitchen. “What would you like to say? What else is there that I need to know? You were drunk and lonely, weren’t you?” That phrase comes out with a sneer, which makes you wince like you’ve just had something physically thrown at you.
“I’ve spent months agonizing over this shit, Yukhei. I’ve felt completely alone and in the dark here. I had the abortion, I’ve been to therapy, I haven’t even looked at alcohol since then. I’ve seen the error of my fucking ways, believe me, and I still feel no more reassured about any of this.”
“Do you think that’s going to solve everything?” Lucas says, crossing his arms and staring at you from across the room.
“I don’t know! Maybe I didn’t do it for you. I did it because I didn’t want to have another man’s child! I did it for myself, to feel back in control of myself!”
“Y/N, you can do whatever you need to make this easier for you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to come running back to you.”
You sigh heavily and sit down in the kitchen chair, rubbing your hands over your face. “Maybe it’s a mistake for me to hope we can work something out at this point, but I long ago realized that living without you is next to unbearable. Why do you think I’m trying to get the fuck out of here? Everything here is ‘you.’” You don’t look at his eyes during any point of this speech, just instead staring at your hands where they meet on the table. “I see that if you want to leave, I won’t be able to stop you. But at least give me a proper explanation and a clean break like a human being.”
Lucas falls quiet again. You think he might just leave you there to get his stuff and go back to wherever he wants to go, but he sits in the chair across from you. You still don’t look at him.
“I also missed you a lot,” he admits, quietly, as if he doesn’t want to say it where it can be heard. “I didn’t really want to. But. Obviously, those emotions don’t just go away…”
You simply nod, not knowing the right way to respond to that. 
“You still wear your ring,” he says it flatly, like it’s an insignificant observation. You can’t tell whether he’s surprised at it or judging you for it, for whatever ridiculous reason.
“Did you not want me to?” you say, irritated. “We are still married. And I don’t need the people at work asking questions.”
He nods as if he’s just understood something and the realization of it has made him even more displeased. “Right, of course, it’s all about looking good. Maintaining the lie, right?”
“It’s not about that,” you snap. “You should know that more than anyone. No one even knows I’m fucking married to you except Sharia. God forbid I don’t want to hear more bullshit from Daniel about my marriage, I guess.”
Lucas’s face is still for a moment, and then his eyebrows crease. “Does he still bother you?” The words leave his mouth tentatively.
“Of course he does, Yukhei. Whenever I can’t get away from him completely. He’s not just going to stop because my life has turned to shit and my husband hates me—which he doesn’t even know.”
Lucas shakes his head and sighs. “Don’t guilt trip me.”
“I’m only stating what clearly seems to be a fact now.” Then you get up from the table, weary of the conversation and even more hurt by the fact that he didn’t try to deny your statement. “Now, if you want to get your stuff, go get it. I won’t hold you up any longer. Though—you should think about preparing for a divorce if you’re really done here.” You walk out of the kitchen before waiting for his response, missing the way he stiffens in his seat.
You sit in the living room fussing over your suitcase for a long while before he decides to walk into the room. “Look...I don’t know how to feel about all this right now, but I’m not sure if that’s what I...want.”
“...What.”
“Y/N. I’m saying, I don’t think I want to...separate.”
“Then what do you want? To keep dragging me around with an empty marriage while you move on with your life? Just file the damn papers or I will.” You’re angry with him now, and a few tears slip out. You feel like you’re being thrown around at this point, and you have no clue what his intentions are. You get even more upset with yourself for crying, though there’s no reason to be.
“I don’t fucking know. Just not...this.” Lucas is deflated and maybe just as lost as you are, though you don’t want to acknowledge that while you’re still upset at his indecisiveness. He sits on the couch with you, and you’re partly surprised that he even still wants to be anywhere near you with how he was acting and talking earlier.
He seems a little shaken to see you openly crying, as if he’s never seen it happen before. Like all of this is once again new to him. Lucas puts his head in his hands, bearing a striking resemblance to the image of him doing the same thing the day you told him what happened.
You both make for a pitiful sight on the sofa like that, sitting as far from each other as possible but hurting over the same thing. Finally, Lucas takes his hands away from his face and, tentatively, as if you might shove him away, reaches for your hand. He covers it with his own, curling his fingers around yours slightly.
You stare at his hand on top of yours, bare without his ring, unsure how to react to it. You look to your side, though he doesn’t meet your eyes at first. There’s another crease between his brows.
“Just let me...figure some things out. We—we could...figure some things out, together. Before we...think about taking that step.” This response is still just shy of giving you a definite answer, but it gives you a small, painful hope that maybe things aren’t destroyed forever.
You nod, wiping some of your tears away. You’re almost afraid to take your eyes from where your hands are joined, as if you’ll discover it was just some mirage or figment of your imagination if you look away.
“Okay...we can do that. If...you want to try.”
Lucas looks at you fully now, his eyes impossibly deep with things he’s already said and has yet to say to you, and nods back—a tiny movement, but it’s there and true all the same.
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crazynekochan · 4 years
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Okay, I have an idea for a AU. It comes based on how, aside from the pretty factor, we never really get to see Junko use her Ultimate Gyaru Talent in her plans. I was inspired by hearing about the Amekaji or 'American Casual' subculture of Gyaru and thinking "hey, yknow who this style reminds me of? Kazuichi" A quick reference to some samples before I get into my idea:
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(Please excuse the fact that I didn't crop the screenshots)
Anyway- in this AU, I wanted to use how we all wanted Junko to manipulate the Remnants into following her and Kazuichi's trust issues. Junko, finding his talent to be one of the most immediately useful of the class and him to be one of the most easily manipulated and emotion driven of the class, decides to become his best friend! It starts slow, her beginning to hang out with him after classes and eventually during lunch, constant compliments, telling him what he wants to hear, comforting him when he trusts her enough to open up about his issues with trust. Soon enough, she's wormed her way into his circle, becoming his closest friend. He reveals that he didn't chose his appearance for his own happiness but for his image and she pounces. She insists that she can give him a glow-up- give him a partial overhaul. Help him with the god awful layering in his hair, maybe even make Sonia like him (or Gundham, depending on whether or not he has realized his feelings for him/given up on his crush on her if he has one at the start of this au). This is where the Amekaji Gyaru part comes in, she pretty much turns him into one. The way the class gets introduced to this style change is by Chisa coming by to round up Kazuichi when he doesn't come back after lunch. This is an approximation of what I think she would do on such short notice. (He was meant to have an expression but I gave up on that front on the sketch to have an easier go at designing his clothes without obstruction or scruntiching). Oh yeah, it's an Omegaverse AU btw, because I am predictable and pathetic lol.
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I kinda want to make a fic with this and I'm planning on using Gundham's POV because he already likes Kazuichi before Junko began sinking her claws into him and he wound be concerned and conflicted from the get go. Because while Junko is very much using Kazuichi (though they don't catch onto that aspect right away), she's boosting his confidence. He's happy to have a best friend who cares about him seemingly unconditionally. But they also realise that he's becoming obsessive in a way that she's certainly not discouraging. He's always talking about her, texting her, hanging out with her, he even picks up some of her traits. At one point someone (Fuyuhiko most likely) would comment along the lines of "what are you in love with her or something" and Kazuichi would respond with something like "oh of course not! Junko deserves much more than me!" Or something equally self-deprecating and out of character like that. It's not healthy.
He would voluntarily watch the brainwashing video with Mikan (like in the Siren AU), believing that Junko just wanted to show him something cool. He would despair at the betrayal, since the despairs are aware enough to realise things like that. If he contracts the Remembrance disease, he would probably go for the convincing Ibuki into suicide route like in the Siren AU, for the opportunity to watch the despair. I love the idea of having an active despair in the cast and with this AU, instead of him just continuing to be devoted to Junko like in the Siren AU, I wanted him to actually come around as a Despair to Hope because of the others. Hajime is there now, he would've begun to be friends with Kazuichi and continue after Kaz remembers and he, being the good boy that Hajime is, actually treats Kazuichi like a real friend should. He didn't get to become close to Fuyuhiko before Junko got to him so he also becomes friends with him. Also, of course, Soudam happens. I'd imagine that they would make him come around enough to rebuke the Junko AI in the end.
Kazuichi definitely would feel guilty as hell when this is all said and done, however, the class would also feel guilty for letting him fall into Junko's clutches too. Also, the greater trauma of him knowing that his second best friend after the one in middle school pulled the same shit but worse? 👌👌👌. I have other sketches of them hat I plan to colour, so I'll be back. I'll link you the fic once I write it. Tell me what you think about this, please! Spare no thought! Oh yeah, I'm mentally calling this the Gyaru AU
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Mod: It will never stop being huge wasted potential that Junko didn’t manipulate all the Remnants by using their trauma and weaknesses, and specifically chose them for their useful talents like it was implied in the game, and instead just went with them being chosen at random because they were Ryota’s classmates
Having Kazuichi be Junko’s first victim is perfect, because with his talent he is super useful to her and can easily make her unstoppable the moment she has him under her control. And with his trust issues and straight up need to have a friend in his life he would be an easy target for someone like Junko, who can very quickly play him like a fiddle. Let him vent to her, tell him what he wants to hear, give him confidence and then put him into his place so that he becomes her loyal dog who sees her like some god who will do anything to please her, just like Mikan did. Until she then finally breaks him by betraying him like his best friend did in the past. The pain must be so unbearable for the poor guy. I feel really bad for him, but at this point the brainwashing is already in place sadly, so he will just get some high from being used and betrayed all over again and again
Kazuichi going through the simulation way past getting infected and having all of his memories must be such a trip. Because he has to pretend like nothing is amiss while everything else is going on and make sure that no one notices his change in character (Which could be hard for him to do, since he doesn’t seem like a good actor) I could even see him during the last trial to try and push the others into doing the wrong choice until they manage to make him believe in hope again and having trust in his friends that they will not betray him ever. Which must be so hard for him to believe after being lied to so many times by people he trusted blindly, where Junko even made him and the others do such horrendous things. But it wouldn’t be DR if hope doesn’t win in the end and everyone manages to have a future
Though the most hurtful part must be seeing everything from Gundham’s POV, because he is stuck with having to watch how Junko is getting close to Kaz. Which is at first of course a nice thing on the outside, but when Kaz starts getting seriously degrading about himself it’s really getting concerning but it’s already too late. Even more painful for Gundham when he might have had a bad feeling about the “friendship” but has pushed it onto him probably just being jealous or something and as such never intervened when he really should’ve done so, because then all of this could’ve been avoided where Kaz was turned into a pupped who got to build the most brutal killing machines imaginable for Junko’s absolute insane plan of creating a world of despair. When the truth comes to light he would be feeling such immense guilt over not having seen the signs and came to help Kaz when he still had the chance (Could be even something Junko could use against Gundham, both back at HPA and in the last trial if he’s still alive at that time in the AU)
Also the artwork of Kaz after his makeover looks sooo good! He is beyond cute and it mixes so well his actual nerdy aesthetic he had before with something more fun and colourful (quite literally) ♥♥
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rubykgrant · 3 years
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(Donut)
The first video plays for them all, automatically.
He’d set it to some kind of timer, they aren’t sure how he figured out how long to make it last… had he actually calculated the exact right amount of time it would take for them to win the fight? Even with all the unknowns and variables? It doesn’t seem possible, but it also seems to be what happened.
There was just enough of a pause when the battle was over for them to barely catch their breath, and start to feel cautiously optimistic. They did it, they won. In fact, that is exactly what he tells them.
It doesn’t feel like a victory.
The first message plays for them all automatically. They don’t have a choice but to listen to it. Carolina and Wash hear it together, Doc hears it alone, and the rest of them hear it as a group. When he’s done talking, and what just happened starts to sink in, they each notice they have another message waiting for them… from him. Individual messages, sent to them all. These need to be opened and played voluntarily.
None of them play these videos. None of them talk about it, either. Because of this, they don’t even realize he sent a message to ALL of them. They wonder, why did I get another message? If they listened, they would have their answers… but none of them do, and none of them talk about it. Perhaps if they did, things would have happened differently. They would have seen that he had, in fact, said good-bye to everybody. They would have understood how they each felt about this situation a little better. They would have made different choices later. Instead, they don’t talk about it, and they don’t listen to the messages…
Donut doesn’t watch it because he thinks this MUST have been an accident… why would Church send him anything? It wasn’t like they were BFFs. Sure, it was a nice gesture getting that first message, Church saying good-bye to everybody, letting them know he hadn’t been randomly deleted or whatever. It was something he had done on purpose, because it was the only thing he could do… it wasn’t their fault it happened. They didn’t need to feel bad about it. Church probably knew even before things got serious that he’d need to do this. It wasn’t their fault. They didn’t need to feel bad.
Donut feels bad. Why did stuff like this always happen? Why did they have to keep fighting people all the time? Why did they keep getting hurt? This was the problem with bad communication; if other people would just learn to talk about their feelings, then most of these issues would get resolved ahead of time. Church could have told them he wasn’t going to make it through the battle…
Well, maybe not ALL of them. Yeah, that was exactly why this second message was a mistake. Why tell one of the Red guys something extra? Even if Donut was on the lighter side of red… Tucker or Caboose would be more likely to get another message. Maybe Carolina. What would Church even say? What else was there TO say? Sure, Donut could think of a few things the guy probably needed to talk about… like his anger problems, his pessimistic outlook, the fact that he had an on-going cycle of abandonment issues. They could have had some LONG conversations about that. Donut didn’t think Church was willing to get that open and honest, though.
Maybe he could have tried harder to talk to Church before… they hadn’t ever had much one-on-one interaction, and they were usually busy running around, trying not to die, but he could have tried. Donut was good at talking and opening up to people, even if they weren’t. It was a gift. Most people didn’t appreciate this gift, but that was EXACTLY why it was important to have a friend like Donut… at least, he thought so. He thought he was pretty good at talking, most of the time. Even if people kinda ignored him… or groaned, and rolled their eyes (he could tell when they were eye-rolling, even with the helmets on). It wasn’t HIS fault they were all a bunch of sticks-in-the-mud. It wasn’t his fault nobody paid enough attention to him, it wasn’t his fault they didn’t listen, it wasn’t his fault… he doesn’t need to feel bad.
Donut feels bad. He feels a little bitter, too. It really WASN’T his responsibility to be the emotional filter for everybody else. He shouldn’t be feeling guilty at ALL. He had enough drama to deal with on the Red Team, he didn’t need a big blue cherry on top to worry about. If Church had wanted to confide in anybody, he could have! If he wanted to talk to somebody, he had his two blue-bros right there, plus the Carolina (even though she was kinda scary), and even Wash (sort of… he was at least willing to have a pleasant conversation with people). What was Donut supposed to do? Just worm his way in over there with the blues, force a conversation to happen, because he can tell they need help sharing their feelings? Well, nobody asked!
Now, here was this little digital icon in his helmet, telling him he had another message… from the dude who was usually so ticked-off he spoke mostly in swears. Hmm. It had to be a mistake. It was probably just… something like outtakes or a blooper-reel; Church trying out different things he wanted to say before he figured out what to put in that first message. No WAY Church got all sentimental like that on the first try. Then, when he… when he did whatever it was that… made him stop existing… this other video was left behind, data with nowhere to be, and Donut was most likely the last one who got sent the real video, so this one just came a long for the ride.
Still… Donut is a little curious. He’s good at keeping secrets… but he’s also a bit of a gossip. If this is left-over material from stuff Church kept out of the video they all saw… it could be pretty funny. Is it OK for it to be funny? How long do you have to wait after something bad happens for it to be funny? Wait… what if it isn’t funny? What if it is something mean, or something even MORE sad? Maybe that’s why it wasn’t part of the video everybody saw… this isn’t fair. Well, that would be good, right? It would be Church finally expressing himself, getting it all off his chest, and Donut… Donut would be the last person to hear it. He’d hear it, but he wouldn’t be able to say anything back. He wouldn’t be able to say anything about it at all, unless he told everybody. Donut likes to talk to people, and he’s pretty good at it, but…
Donut feels bad. He doesn’t want to feel bad about it, but he does. He didn’t ask for this, he didn’t need a guilt-trip from somebody who wasn’t even around anymore. Especially when… he maybe could have helped BEFORE this all happened, but now Church was gone, and Donut feels bad, but he doesn’t WANT to feel bad, so he doesn’t mention this to anybody else… he doesn’t want what happened to be his fault. He doesn’t talk about it (is not saying anything the same mistake all over again), and he doesn’t play the second message.
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(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Matchup ♥
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Naruto, One Piece, and Free Match-Up Request
May I request another match-up but for Free, One Piece, and Naruto this time? :) Here’s all my info once more!
Name: Corethra (or Corey for short)
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Occupation: Hand Packer at an ice cream factory. I work 12 hours (5:30pm to 6am) on a rotating schedule.
Birthplace: Memphis, TN, USA. I was raised in the neighborhood called Frayser which is the most impoverished area in Memphis and has a high crime rate as expected.
Zodiac Sign: Pisces (born March 2) My full birth chart can be found here
Enneagram: 5w6
Chinese Zodiac: Year Of The Pig
MBTI Type: INFJ
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Hogwarts House: Slytherin
Love Language: Acts Of Service
Race/Ethnicity: African-American
Height: 4'11 (Call me short and I’ll kick your butt!)
Body Type/Shape: Average but well developed figure at best. I weigh about 158 lbs and am pretty insecure about my body. I also have really bad scars on my left arm from being bitten by a dog.
Hair Color/Style: Black and naturally curly but I keep it flat-ironed so it’s straight. It’s long and goes down to just below my shoulder blades. There are times when I will have braids put in of various lengths.
Glasses or No?: Yes I wear glasses
Eye Color: Brown
Dress Style: I usually dress up in a casual way, just throwing on whatever looks good at the time but I will sometimes put in the effort when the time calls for it or when I’m in a good mood. I have an affinity for the punk, emo, and goth styles and I rarely wear feminine clothes but I will wear something risky every once in a while.
Hobbies/Interests: Video games, reading, writing, anime, internet surfing, listening to music, politics (sometimes), watching movies/TV shows, basically being an overall nerd. I’m usually either on my laptop or one of my many video game consoles if I’m not on my phone or reading one of my books.
Dislikes: Ignorance, stupidity, restriction, manipulation/gas-lighting, bullying, humanity, not being understood, corruption/injustice, close-mindedness
Personality: At first glance, I seem quiet and keep to myself, only speaking when I need to or when I’m spoken to. I’m an anti-social introvert to the fullest and don’t care much for small talk or going out. I prefer to have deeper conversations. When I get comfortable enough in whatever environment I’m in, I start to open up bit by bit. I’m a tomboy and pretty rough-minded as well as stubborn. I’m very sassy, have a smart, sarcastic, and witty mouth if not humorous and outrageous at times, can be borderline rude and mean, and I’m more sensitive than I care to be. I can literally cry at someone’s suffering especially if it’s someone I’m close to or even a total stranger. I’m very empathetic and my heart is bigger than what most people would expect. Most people describe me as quiet, intelligent, creative, dorky, a smartass, and really sweet. I love a good laugh and have an open sense of humor to boot.
Many of my friends say that I’m very sweet and kind which I usually am if I’m in a good mood as well as affectionate as hell. Hugs and pet names galore with me! However only my friends and family see that side of me. My language is often unfiltered, harsh, foul, and blunt which shocks people because they think I’m a pure angel. I say what I want when I want and no one tells me otherwise. If they do, they can expect a mouthful from me. I’m an escapist and very imaginative, can be a bit scatterbrained at times, and I’m methodical and detailed to the point of perfectionism. I’m usually a walking contradiction in terms of personality in so many ways to the point where the real me is almost impossible to decipher. To make matters more complicated, I’m not very good at expressing myself verbally and prefer to let my actions do the talking. I also express myself better through written form.
I have many pet peeves and I get annoyed easily in general. I’m also slowly embracing misanthropy and nihilism but I can be pretty idealistic so it balances out. I’m practically zero tolerance when it comes to bullshit. I hate confrontation and conflict but I’m starting to work on it so I can be less passive-aggressive and more assertive. I also wish to stand up for myself more often than I should so people won’t think that I’m weak and an easy target. I’m pretty cynical which is to be expected and usually expect the worst from people. When someone angers me, I will either just withdraw altogether and completely cut them off (slam the door basically) or get in their face and go off before doing the former. I’m the “hold my anger in and release it all at once” type but I hope to change that one day and stop letting things fester before they get out of hand. I can be quite petty and even cold as well and if someone wrongs me, they will have to make the first move to mend fences. I refuse to apologize if I’m not in the wrong and I will not accept gaslighting/guilt tripping. I also refuse to change for others and will admit to having quite a lot of pride but that’s mostly due to me not wanting to be hurt and manipulated, mistreated, or used.
I have issues with trust and a wild imagination to boot. I usually trust my instincts and can see right through bullshit. I don’t like taking risks and I have to know all the details when I do something so I don’t mess up and look like an idiot. I am indeed a perfectionist and introverted to a fault which often prevents me from trying new things and going outside my comfort zone. I haven’t been in a relationship yet and am still a virgin due to my issues with trust and not wanting to be hurt or humiliated as well as being quite picky/perfectionistic with the people I allow in my life. I have high standards for both people and myself although I’m pretty laid-back and my dislike of conflict allows me to also take a lot of shit from people too before I eventually say “fuck it” and slam the door or go off on them. I don’t think very highly of myself and can sometimes fall into a period of self-hatred and self-pity.
Many people praise me for my intelligence which is fitting since I’m an intellectual. My ideals and beliefs are rather odd to say the least (I’m a classical liberal/independent and despise most ideologies/ideas. This includes religion, feminism, social justice, traditionalism, statism, big government, nationalism, socialism/communism, etc.) and I feel misunderstood because of it (mostly because of the black community ostracizing me). I am indeed a rebel, open-minded, and a free thinker. No one tells me how to think or feel or else they face my wrath. I highly value power over myself and I think it’s the most important thing that a person needs in order to survive. I am definitely an outcast at heart and I often distance myself from others and don’t like talking about my feelings or beliefs because I think most people lack the ability/capacity to understand me. Before I give my opinion on something, I like to do as much research as possible as well as look at things from all perspectives before coming to my own conclusion. I don’t mind discussing things but I prefer logic over emotion when doing so which makes it damn near impossible these days for me to have an real conversation without insults and threats being thrown (usually towards me). Chances are I’m gonna find something wrong with damn near anything someone believes in or says and I’m not afraid to call it out when I see it. Once I do open up and express how I feel, the gates of passion will open up and never close. I also have high morals and values and stick to my guns no matter what which can make me pretty stubborn at times.
I’m currently battling depression and often experience many symptoms of it including suicidal thoughts and depression spells. I also suffer from iron-deficiency anemia as well as irregular, prolonged periods. These things are pretty annoying for me to deal with whenever they flare up. 
Overall, I’m pretty crazy and a handful to deal with. Good luck matching me up with someone :P
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Hello @sacredwarrior88 and thank you so much for requesting with us! I am so sorry that this came out so late, but I do hope you enjoy this!
>Admin 𝕋
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽…
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Ace! I feel that you and ace would be such a great couple! He is open minded and kind to others whereas you are the same way! You are passionate like he is, caring like he is, loyal to the bone like he is! He would see you and see your personality and just instantly fall in love you and your personality! Like, I can’t even imagine how much he will want you on his crew, so they he can keep on you and protect you at all times-- though he will soon figure out that you don’t need help, you can take care yourself--which he will find extremely attractive, no doubt about that! 
He will love that fact that you are independent, because he really values individualism and independency, he sees it as a great traits to have. But he will also love the fact that you are sensitive, and can sometimes get into your own  head. He understands that, knows it all too well, so he will try with all his might to try and make sure that you are happy and always smiling! But he will love how fierce you can be to other people, never bowing down to their expectations! 
All in all, I feel like Ace would be a great man for you in the one piece universe! He would be attentive to you, would love your attitude and personality, and would absolutely adore how loyal and strong you are! make sure to love him thoroughly!
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Ah, Sai! He is much like Ace, just a little less emotional, which is fine! I feel like you and Sai would make a couple for a couple reasons! He would love how mature you are, and how logical you can be, and-- like ace-- he loves the fact that you are extremely loyal to your friends! That is a true factor in the way he will see you, and it is for the better! He will se how strong you are, emotionally and will be envious and at the same time fascinated! I Feel like Sai will look at you with wide eyes, his breath caught in his throat, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage because he will love you that much! All the things you are interested he will want to hear with enthusiasm, everything you love he will want to learn and hear from you, to get to know you better!
Another thing is that if you were to go to him with your insecurities and how you are battling depression, he will try to understand, and once he does he will try to everything and anything to make sure you feel better! You need a massage? He’s on it! You need cuddles? oh yeah he will give you some! You need chocolate or sweets or anything of the like? He’ll run to the store, and be back 5 minutes tops! 
All in all, I feel like the cool, mature Sai, with a heart of pure gold will be such a good match for you! He will make sure that you uncomfortable with him, he will never want to make you unhappy, and he will definitely do anything i his power to make sure that you will keep on loving him as much as you can!
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Rei! Now, with Rei, I wanted to go a more cute route. I feel that Rei would be equal parts and scared and in love with you! He sees how strong you are against people that oppose, he sees how strong you are for your friends, and how you have such a different personality to everybody else around him, and he will immediately fall in with you. Like instantly! To him, you’d be like a beautiful butterfly blooming right in front of him, and he will want to have you all tot himself! Of course, he won’t force you, but he will definitely watch you at a distance longingly!
He is very much an introvert and your calm but strong aura would definitely help with his anxiety! I just see him melting next you, into your lap or shoulder whenever you are around him because he is so comfortable around you. He doesn’t do this with just anybody so it would be a real honor! And when it it comes to your insecurities, he would want to make sure that you know he loves you the way are, and if you were to want to change something about yourself, then he will support you all the way, as long as you are happy! He will just love that you are such a freethinker and so openminded about things, so unlike him!
All in all, I feel like Rei would love you and (somewhat) idolize because you have all these traits that he would love to have. This perfectionist will understand how it feels to be such a perfectionist and will want to help you with that too! He will love to the moon and back(stroke)!
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Paint Fight | Ninjago Calendar, June
Summary: In which Jay starts a paint fight with his friends because why not.
Sometimes Lloyd asked himself what he had done to deserve everything life threw at him.
As if it wasn’t enough to have his first love turn out to be a manipulative psychopath and have his dad resurrected from the dead as a soulless shell of who he once was, Cloud Kingdom had decided to top it of and throw a demon-invasion and a near-death experience at him.
And Lloyd Garmadon definitely wouldn’t be Lloyd Garmadon if he didn’t isolate himself from everyone close to him after a, yet another, traumatic event.
It was like a routine at this point. Everytime they got back from an adventure Lloyd would usually lock himself up in his room for a few days and then come back like nothing ever happened. He knew it wasn’t healthy - ignoring your emotions and stuffing them into a little box, hoping that they’ll never make it to the light of day, that no one would ever notice how much he really struggled. But there really wasn’t any other alternative for him, it was the only way he knew to cope and the others had stopped trying to get him to talk a long time ago.
Or at least so he thought, because right now the leader's door was being opened and revealed frizzy red hair and nervous blue eyes staring at him.
“Hey Lloyd, uhm, could I ask you something?”
“If this is about my Starfarer Video Game you can just take it-”
“N, no, no!”, his smaller friend interrupted him and sat down on his bed, playing with his fingers in an anxious manner, avoiding his gaze.
"You know, you've been isolating yourself and- I mean I totally get that, I get why, but- I miss doing stuff with y'all.", Lloyd blinked, trying to process what Jay was telling him. Jay usually wasn’t one to reach out like that, normally he’d keep to himself and just spend even more time with Cole and Nya, while being sad about the fact that he missed the others.
“But if you don’t want to, that’s fine of course! Don’t feel pressured, especially since you’re still recovering.”, the blond winced.
If there was one thing he hated most in the world it was his friends’ pity.
“It’s fine. I’ll join y’all.”, the redheads eyes lit up as that stupid grin - that was just  so jay - appeared on his face. 
“Great, I already got something planned!”
------
Surprisingly Lloyd wishes he had never agreed to Jay's offer. 
It wasn't that he didn't like spending time with his family, it was just that he didn't really know how to talk to them anymore. As a matter of fact it seemed like no one really did. The silence between them as they cleaned the dust off of the walls, like Jay had told them to, was almost suffocating.
“Why are we even doing this?”, Kai spoke up as he rolled his eyes in frustration. “Has Jay turned into Sensei Wu now and makes us do chores?”, Lloyd couldn’t help but chuckle.
Zane eyed them with a tiny smirk before continuing the task. “Well, I personally find cleaning to be very calming.”
“If that’s the case I’ll gladly have you clean my room!”, Jay called out as he stumbled outside with multiple buckets of paint, which sooner than later found themselves tumbling to the floor. “Now that didn’t go to plan.”, he muttered. “Ayways! Everyone come get their bucket!”
The others started walking up to him, taking the bucket of their respective colour.
“I don’t mean to sound like I’m judging or something but what exactly is your plan?”
“Oh Lloyd, isn’t it obvious? We’re going to paint the walls!”
All eyes fell on Jay in absolute disbelief.
“Sensei Wu will kill us! We can’t just paint the walls!”
“Going after our reputation this monastery won’t stand for long anyways. I give it 6 months before it is destroyed again.”, Nya sighed as she went to grab a paintbrush out of a bag Jay had brought with him.
Cole winced. He was more than familiar with the fate their homes usually faced. “I mean, you’re not wrong but still, you know? I don’t think Sensei is going to be too pleased.”
“Good thing he isn’t supposed to be back before tomorrow, so we got enough time to plan our escape.”, the Blue Ninja grinned, giving everyone a brush to paint with.
Maybe he didn’t regret this too much after all.
------
“Nya, if I was a worm, would you still love me?”
“I swear if you don’t shut your mouth-”
------
“Should I go inside and get us some ice cream?”, Zane asked, interrupting the silence that had once again fallen between them after they had started their paintings on the walls.
Cole’s eyes practically begged his friend to do what he had just offered. “Please, it’s so hot!”
“It’s not, it’s… rather mild, I guess.”
“Kai, no offence but you are literally the Master of Fire.”, Lloyd smirked slightly. “But yes Zane, it would be really nice if you could do that.”, he gave his nindroid friend one more smile before he stepped inside, making his way to the kitchen.
“You know, Cole, I think paint is fairly cold.”
“What are you hinting at, Bluebell-”, next thing they knew chaos erupted.
Cole watched the blue paint dripping from his face to the ground with a shocked expression.
“Any cooler?”, the Master of Lightning grinned at him.
“I’ll show you ‘cooler’!”, Cole yelled out, grabbing his own bucket and running after his best friend.
“Nya, save me!”, she couldn’t help but laugh at her boyfriend’ childishness.
“Coming!”, she calls, grabbing a bucket, as did her brother.
Sometimes Lloyd loved his family for being so stupid.
------
And sometimes Lloyd hated himself for being stupid.
You would think that after near-death experience number 37 and just barely getting away with a concussion and multiple bruises that he would start to pay more attention to his surroundings and be more careful.
You would also think wrong because as it turns out “careful” was something that just didn’t suit the blond.
And before he knew it he slipped on a puddle of paint and landed head first on the ground.
A pained moan escaped his mouth as his vision darkened for a second, everything started spinning.
Lloyd didn’t even get to sit up before Kai was already crouching down next to him, eyeing him in worry and grabbing his arm.
“Gosh Lloyd, you need to watch out, you’re still hurt!”, the younger tried to rid himself of his brother's grip, in vain. He rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"Kai, I'm okay! Can you please just-"
"You need to be more careful! I always tell you that and you never listen! When will you start listening to me? When it’s too late?", suddenly everything around Lloyd seemed to come to an halt.
He knew Kai meant well, he always did, but he hated it more than anything when his brothers babyed him.
"Kai, I absolutely do not want your pity.", he spoke more harshly than he wanted to, pulling away from the brunette and standing up again.
“I’m not pitying you, I’m watching out for you-”
“Well you’re most certainly not doing a good job at it then.”, Lloyd had regretted many things in his life so far, releasing the Serpentine, banishing his father to the Departed Realm, but this - this was probably one of the actions he regretted most in his life so far.
Kai’s eyes widened in shock.
“This isn’t fair.”
“Life hasn’t been fair to us for a long while now Kai and you know tha-”, the teens sentence died in his throat as a loud noise interrupted them.
The elder gasped as he put his hand on his - now pink stained - hair. “Hey, watch the hair!”
"Where the hell did you get that from?!", Lloyd yells, hiding himself behind his big brother
Nya simply grinned, pointing the paint-gun in their direction once again.
"I have my ways."
------
“I say we all team up on Jay!”, Cole calls out across the yard.
“What?! 5 against 1? That’s unfair!”, 
“Fair?”, Lloyd yells as he grabbed another bucket filled with red paint. “Fair isn’t a word where I come from!”, he screams, running after Jay, eventually cornering him with the help of the others.
“Oh come on guys.”, the lightning ninja laughs nervously. “It doesn’t have to end like this.”
“It started with you, it will end with you.”, Kai smirks.
They were ready to empty their paint buckets over his head, that was until they heard someone clear their throat behind them.
In shock they turned around, just to meet stern yellow eyes.
“What’s the matter of this.”
“Sensei Wu! I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until-”
“Tomorrow, yes.”, the old sensei cut Nya off. “But my trip was cut short, so I went home just to be greeted by-”, he looked around himself, at the stained floor, puddles of now half dried paint and empty metal buckets. “-this.”
“I promise Sensei, we will clean everything up!”, the blond reassured his uncle.
“Lloyd?”, he looked at the others in disbelief. “You let my nephew join in on this? You know he is still recovering! As are you Cole!”
“I swear Sensei, I’m feeling way better-”
“No. I don’t want to hear it. Starting tomorrow you will clean this mess up and we will start training again. Every day you will have-”
Jay gasped. “Sensei, no! Please!”
“-Sunrise training.”, this six groaned in unison. “Except for Cole and Lloyd, you’ll join when I tell you to, until then you’ll stay in bed.”
“Yes, Sensei.”, they bowed slightly, waiting for Wu to leave.
Just as Sensei stepped inside the monastery, Zane stepped back outside in the yard, ice cream in hand. His face as he tried to understand what had caused the chaos and the stains on his friends’ clothes made them all start to laugh.
Maybe today hadn’t been as bad as Lloyd thought it would be.
------
Once again the part-human found himself alone, this time though not in his room but watching the sunset on the stairs in front of the monastery and eating the ice cream Zane had brought them. His thoughts remained the same however. Guilt was slowly starting to consume his mind, especially after the short interaction he had shared with Kai during the paint fight. 
He smiled slightly. The childish fight was probably the most fun he had had since everything with the Sons of Garmadon started to unravel. 
He didn’t like to think about it. It made him sad, thinking about how broken and alone he had felt, still did at sometimes.
He also didn’t like to think about all the sleepless nights he had spent, wondering why his friends had to die. Of course they hadn’t actually been dead, but sometimes - just sometimes - Lloyd was scared that if he closed his eyes for too long that they would slip away again.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a red figure approaching and sitting down next to him, interrupting his thoughts.
He said nothing, did nothing, simply staring ahead - waiting for Lloyd to make the first move. 
“You know.”, the blond said, staring forward, just like his brother did. “I didn’t want to snap at you like that. Earlier today, I mean.”, he sighed as he placed his chin in his palm. "None of it was your fault..", Kai winced. 
"I know you didn't want to.", he felt a hand being put on his shoulder. "I just wish you wouldn't always throw yourself into danger. I know it's hypocritical of me to say this but-", the elder paused and took his hand. "You need to start thinking things through.", Lloyd laughed. 
"You're one to talk." 
Kai's face softened. "I know, I haven't been the best example but that's why I want you to be better, you know?”
Lloyd just nodded, leaning his head against his brother's shoulder.
“I don’t want to someday wait for you to come back from a mission and have you-”, he let out a heavy sigh as he squeezed the smaller’s shoulder. “Never return.”
“I get that, I feel the same about you guys.”
“I’d sure hope so. I mean who else could you have paint fights with if not for us.”, the Master of Fire chuckles slightly before standing up again. “But we should probably head inside before Sensei beats our asses, especially yours.”, he pauses as he runs his hand through his messed up hair. “Also should probably wash that out.”
“I don’t know.”,the younger grins as he walks towards the monastery. “Pink suits you.”
“Please, Zane has already claimed pink, thanks to you.”, Kai laughs. “Maybe I’ll go orange.”
“Don’t give me ideas because I absolutely will dye your hair in your sleep.”
“Oh, I don’t think so, Green Machine!”, he calls out sprinting towards him, making Lloyd run from him in a laughing fit.
Yeah, today was definitely not as bad as he had thought it would be.
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i just watched this video of chris drunk during an interview and omg he is the cutest bean ever😍 so here comes another request, chris is out, drinking with friends and he calls you because he is clingy with you more so when drunk and he is just spilling everything, how much he loves you and the whole wedding vows and promises and then he comes home but doesn’t recognize you and he is like ‘no, i don’t wike you, i have a girlfriend’😂 i know very specific but omg i’m so in love with him💕
Babes, he is the Sweetest cutest drunk man ever, if its the video where he goes on about how hes not a tap dancer, but lets lay claim to that fame, cause why the hell not. XD haha. I loved trying to picture what he would do. And absolutely he would get so gushy for his girl, needing to tell her how much he loved her. Awww. Love this one, thank you so much! 
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“God I need a break”
Chris’s arm slung over his eyes as he tipped his head back, taking a deep chest raising breath. You glanced up from your seat across the room, watching him from over your book. A frown playing on your lips at the sight of him being so tensed and stressed out. Everything about him right now was taunt and rigid. And with a sigh he moved back into a sit, leaning over his documents spread on the coffee table. Setting your book aside, you grabbed your phone and headed into the kitchen, pulling up a group chat with all of Chris’s closest friends.
‘Hey what you guys all doing tonight?’ You chewed your lip a bit waiting. They were rather quick though, sending you a quick fire replies.
‘Nothing!’
‘Staying home on the couch watching trash tv’
‘Suggestions?’
‘Whats up Buttercup?’ Last one came from Scott, he started giving you teasing nicknames simply cause you were practically his sister in law at this point.
‘Chris desperately needs a night out with all of you, and wont ask for it himself. Help him (and me) out?’
You peeked back out of the room, to see Dodger huffing at Chris with a ball in his mouth, shoving into his lap. Chris absently with a flick of the wrist tossed it across the room. The fact he wouldnt even look up, but the crease deepened in his forehead as his eyes scanned the words, rubbing his chin let you know he needed this. He kept up like that, his beard you adored so much was gonna be rubbed off. Come on guys, you thought. It was then you heard the ping, and it popped up on your screen.
‘Say no more, we will take care of it’
They were the best. Seconds later Chris’s phone started buzzing, rattling across the coffee table, jarring him at the noise. It was persistent, as he reached to grasp it, going through the ‘Buddy, Julios, 8 pm tonight!’ messages, Scott sending a private one later ‘Picking you up tonight’ Leaving it so Chris didnt have to worry about driving.
“Y/N, the guys want to go out tonight... “ He pushed off the sofa and went in search of you, finding you standing at the kitchen counter, selecting an apple out of the fruit bowl and start slicing it up. “Hmm, whats that Chris?” You ask while coring your fruit, asting as if you didnt know what he was gonna ask.
“Guys want to go out tonight, you want to come? They are apparently not taking im to busy as an answer. Scotts driving.”
You act surprised, and give a shake of the head. “No, Im gonna stay home tonight. Working on a work project, and I want to finish it up.” You gather your fruit in a bowl and come around to reach him. “But I will leave the porch light on for you Handsome.” You lean up as if to kiss him and when he went to meet you, you stuff an apple in his mouth, grinning as you pluck up another piece and snip of the tip of it.
“Just dont forget your keys cause I will be sleeping.” You smirk, after swallowing, moving to go around him. He wasnt about to let you get away though, catching you around your hips and pulling you in close, using his beard to tickle your neck. “Oh I know you had something to do with this Baby!”
You are laughing and squealing, denying your guilt as you try to escape. “No way! It wasnt--- CHRIS!” he was relentless though and chased you into the livingroom once you broke free, already he was starting to relax more.
That night, you did as you promised and left the porch light on, making sure the door was locked and headed into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Your phone sat nearby, and right in the middle of you scrubbing for those pearly whites, Chris’s ring tone popped up, the phone lighting up the picture of the three of you. Picking it up, you had to chuckle at the message.
‘Baby, I miss you so much. What are you doing? Do you miss me yet.(sad face sad face heart)’
You typed out ‘Brushing my teeth and heading to bed. Sounds like your having a good time. (wink)’
It wasnt even seconds before you got another one, this time it was ‘But do you MISS me?’ Yea he was tipsy, he always got a bit needy once he had some liquor in him.
‘Yes, course I do. Sleeping all alone is tough without you to cuddle up with.’ You knew that would make him smile. Snapping off the light, you go into the bedroom and turn down the bed, setting about doing the rest of your nightly routine when it pings again. This time there is a video, which you move to sit up against the headboard, hitting play.
It starts out all wonky, like Chris didnt have the camera still, and then it turns to him, at an odd angle, he must not be holding it high enough, and hes shouting over the music. “Y/N, I couldnt type anymore, the keys are to small.” he lifts it higher and you can see the others in the background, goofing off and shouting at him to return to the party, he waves them off and steps away further, away from the music, so you can hear him properly now. “I just wanted to tell you how much I fucking love you. Oh so much baby.” He rubs his face quickly, you can tell what hes saying is important to him, something that hes kept for a while, but finally had to get it out. Whenever he gets emotional, he rubs and touches his face. “I just need you always in my life, and I know you will tell me not to be silly, but listen. I love you so much, I just need to tell you. When we get married, im writing my own vows, your worth so much baby, I cant wait to make you all mine. I still need to go buy that ring though. How do I open up reminders?” His finger slammed down on the phone and its here he accidentally hit send, making you laugh hard enough that tears start streaming down your face.
It was no hidden fact that Chris wanted to tie the knot, he had mentioned it several times, so you couldnt wait to show this to him to see that flush rise up his cheeks and him shrugging as if he confessed some big secret. “Dont pay attention to that, I have to do it right!” Little did he know that you didnt even need the ring. If he just asked, you would in a heartbeat agree. But as he said, he wanted to do it right, and you were fine with waiting for him to be ready.
You send a message to Scott. ‘Please bring Chris home safe, hes so liquored!’ Which Scott just sent back a laughing emoji, clearly amused with his brother. It went quiet, and you pull the blankets up, falling asleep shortly after.
It was a couple hours later when you heard Dodger shuffle out of the bedroom and give a soft bark. Chris must be home, you thought as you rolled to get up, and wearing nothing but his oversized tee, you pad out to see where he was. Ahh, the kitchen. On the counter was several bags of what looked like taco bell, and he was rummaging for something. You lean in the doorway and say his name “Chris, honey, what are you looking for?”
From in the fridge he remarks “more cheese, I need more cheese” Between his legs, Dodger also has his head stuck in the fridge, the two of them quite the pair. You open a cupboard and take out some nacho cheese, unscrewing the top for Chris. In this state of mind, you didnt want him to try for himself. “Here Handsome, I got you a jar.” He turned suddenly, half tripping over Dodger as he went for the bag of tacos, and dumping out a pile of food. “Your the best... “ drizzling cheese all over his taco and taking a big bite, he gave what could only be described as a dirty moan, his eyes rolling back. “This is the best, besides Y/N’s tacos. I miss my baby” 
“Im right here” You state, but he ignores you, going back to his taco. While hes eating, you go back to lock the door, pick up his shoes, and leave the rest of his chaos for the morning.
Getting back, you see hes left behind his meal, and with a roll of your eyes you pick that up to. He would make it up to you tomorrow. You would be sure of it. Heading towards the bedroom, you saw him collapsed on the bed, groaning. You bite your lip to keep from laughing, going to set on your side of the bed. “Chris, do you want to get undressed?”
His eyes slanted open as he looked up at you, and he groaned, turning away. “Go away, wheres Y/N?”
Well this was a first for you, your hand touches Chris’s back. “Baby, its me.”
He shifted once more to turn on his side facing away from you, muttering “I dont wike it, Stop, go away, your not Y/N”
“Chris?” You move to lean over him, your hand braced on his shoulder for leverage to glance over his half sleeping form, and he half slapped at your hand touching him, grumbling into his pillow. “Stop, I dont wike it. Wheres Y/N?” It wasnt often Chris resorted back to placing his W’s in place of the L’s.  
You pull back and study him a moment, getting your phone and texting Scott.
‘How much did you guys give Chris?’
‘Oh honey, that boy is out of commission when I dropped him off at home. He should be passed out by now.’
No shit Scott, you think. Setting your phone aside. Chris has shifted again, to his back, and gives a smile seeing you and sighing. “Y/N is so beautiful, I cant wait till we have all the babies. Little Y/N all over the place.”
You pat his chest and lay down next to him. “Yes sir, all the babies, and Chris can change all the dirty diapers, and car pool them back and forth to soccer camp.”
He loped an arm around you and cuddled you in close to him, humming. “Yup. Tell Y/N that when she comes home that I miss her.”
“Oh of course, she will be very happy to see your home safe.”
That made him smile and he buried his face in your hair. Within minutes he started snoring softly, and you moved his arm from over your chest to settle at your waist. Finally you to drift off for the night.
The next morning came to you waking up first, bleary eyed, Chris came into focus, having moved during the night. Now he was on his back, head tipped back into the pillows, and mouth wide open. You were pretty tempted to take a picture, but before you could move, he slung an arm around you and twisted to his side, muttering against your shoulder.
“What Handsome?”
“I want... to die. Ugh” He lifted his head enough to rub the sleep out of his eyes and rubbed his chin against your neck, resettling himself against you. “How bad was I?”
Your hand comes up to card your fingers through his hair, light and gentle, he started humming softly at the soothing feeling.
“Well... You insisted on eating tacos, left a whirlwind of stuff in our livingroom, and you didnt remember who I was.” That shot his head up, in confusion.
“What?”
“Yea, you were convinced I was another woman and everytime I tried to like touch you to make sure you were okay, You brush me off and demand to know where I was.” You giggled softly at the memory, and he dropped his head groaning.
“Shit baby Im so sorry if I was an ass.”
“No no, you werent. It was more like you just wanted to see me, and you werent gonna accept another woman. It was kind of cute. You kept saying I dont wike it whenever i touched you. Oh and you um... sent me a video.”
He grumbled against your shoulder. “Course I did... I dont even want to know what was on it.”
You bring your hand to slide down the back of his neck, to his shoulders and rub along his upper back. “Well, it was all good stuff Chris. It was about how much you missed me, and loved me, then there was talks about a wedding ring.” Again he groaned against you, lifting his head up.
“Listen Y/N, when I said all that... “ He started and you cupped your hand over his mouth.
“Stop Babes, you were drunk. You really dont have to say anything. It was a cute video, and thats all I took it for.”
His eyes flashed in a touch of relief, another less sure woman might have been hurt at her mans relief, but you knew better. Chris was a man who ‘wanted to do it right’. You tilted your head up and nuzzled your nose against his. “How about you jump in the shower, and I will go make us a hangover cure?”
“And whats that?”
“Why more alcohol of course.”
He seemed to ponder a bit on your offer, and rolled to sit up, stretching. “Your on baby. Can you stay in my shirt though?” His blue eyes darkened in desire. “Cause your so fucken sexy in my clothes and I have plans for us later.”
You move to get off the bed, cupping his face once you stand and kiss his lips playfully. “Of course” As you turn to leave, his hand snaps playfully across your bare ass, and you smirk leaving the room.
Party is just getting started now.
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sage-nebula · 3 years
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Do NOT reblog, or I will delete the post and block you.
There are so many posts on here about “eldest daughter this” and “oldest sibling that” but there are no posts that talk about what it’s like to be the middle sibling when your oldest sibling is a complete and utter fuckup in basically every way.
I’m technically the middle child. I have a sister who’s 8.5 years older than I am, and a (technically step-)brother who’s nine months younger than I am. My brother became my brother when I was six and he was five, so the “step-” determination is really meaningless, but I added it to explain how he could be my brother when he’s only nine months younger than I am. Anyway. I have two siblings, one older and one younger, and so that makes me the middle child, right?
Well, yes . . . but also no. 
As you could surmise by the opening paragraph, my older sister fucked up in basically every conceivable way. I won’t get into her whole life story here because that’s not my story to tell (though believe me, there are doozies in there), but suffice it to say that every single choice she made is one that most parents would disapprove of. All three of my parents certainly did. And so what do you think happened when it came to me? 
I’ll tell you what happened. 
Because my older sister fucked up in every way one could possibly fuck up, there was a fear, I suppose, or a concern that I would, for whatever godforsaken reason, follow in her footsteps even though the two of us could not be more different in terms of attitude, outlook, goals, et cetera. As a result, if I did even the slightest thing wrong, the punishment hammer came down on me with all the might of Thor celebrating a delicious beverage. I failed geometry in junior year of high school due to an undiagnosed learning disability (along with undiagnosed severe depression and an undiagnosed anxiety disorder, all following years of abuse at my biological mother’s hands), and I was put under lockdown for the entire summer. I was not allowed to leave the house except to go to summer school, I was not allowed to talk to or see any of my friends, or play video games, or watch television, or be on the internet, or read, or write fiction, or do basically anything besides the aforementioned summer school and listening to music. To this day, my parents think this was a good decision on their part even though they now know about the learning disability and myriad of mental illnesses. They think it was a good call for them to punish me like they did.
And so you would say, okay, but if they punished you that severely because they didn’t want you to end up a drug-addicted high school dropout like your sister, surely they would level the same punishments against your brother, especially since you two were so close in age! Well, you would think that, but nope!
Instead, when my brother was around seventeen, he got pulled over and arrested for marijuana possession. (I think he was pulled over in the first place for speeding, but I can’t remember.) His punishment was to have his car taken away for six months. That’s it. He still had all of his other privileges, was not punished in any other way, he just could not drive for six months. He got in actual legal trouble, but he was still allowed to have hobbies.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that my brother should have been punished more harshly, per se. I’m only saying there was a stark difference in the way that we were treated that my family refuses to acknowledge or own up to even to this day, and it all comes down to the fact that I was never cut slack in either direction. If I was compared to my older sibling, then the fact that she had screwed up so royally in basically every single way meant that I would be made to stand at attention so I could be yelled at for an hour for failing a math class, and then continue to be berated and insulted for how I was clearly never going to college (I have a master’s now, by the by) because of it over the next few days, and yelled at further for having “nothing to say to myself” in the face of all the lecturing. But if I was compared to my younger sibling, why, then it should be expected that he always gets off easier, because he’s younger than I am and the baby of the extended family and, well, I’m older and more mature, so I can handle it better, anyway. And I mean, I guess, for the record, true; I took my punishment in silence because as a victim of child abuse for basically my entire life I never stood up for myself against my parents back then and always just stayed quiet to try to make punishments worse, whereas he threw fits about having his keys taken away every single day for those six months, but also we have to consider how “mature” one really is if that “maturity” stems from a decade and plus some of child abuse.
Because see, that’s the thing, and what has made me really start thinking about this the past few days. I mentioned it on twitter, but a week ago I got into a fight with my mom (stepmom, the better of the two) over politics that has effectively led to her disowning me, I think, which in turn means that my dad has disowned me as well, I think, because I’m pretty sure he’s going to take her side on this one. I won’t get into the actual subject matter here, but the long and short of it is that she accused me of “attacking” her when I wasn’t, and has since then refused to speak to me, even when I tried to offer an olive branch by texting her that fine, I wouldn’t talk to her about politics, but I still loved her. She left me on Read. So the way I see it, she’s not talking to me until I apologize, and I won’t apologize, so she’ll never talk to me and I’m just effectively disowned, I guess. It’s not exactly the first time I’ve lost a parent, and actually, it’s kind of in the same way as the last time.
Fifteen years ago, I left my abusive biological mother to live with my dad and stepmom. (I’m going to keep using stepmom to keep it clear from here on out, just as I use biological mother, even though I do call my stepmom “mom” and consider her as such.) At first my biological mother kept trying to reach out with her pity party guilt tripping about how lonely she was and how much she needed me and yadda yadda, but in the last phone conversation we had, she called me a traitor for leaving her. Keep in mind, I was 15, and she was abusive to the point where the neighbors could hear every profanity and threat she screamed at me from down the street. They told me this. They also told me they always thought about calling CPS, but they never did, but whatever. The point is, on that last phone conversation, she called me a traitor for leaving her. I told her that I wasn’t. She said that I was. I told her I didn’t have to listen to that. She said I did. I said I didn’t, and hung up the phone. I expected her to call right back to curse me out . . . but she never did.
That was fifteen years ago, and we’ve never spoken since.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to speak to her. Actually, the one time it looked like it might happen (at my sister’s wedding), my Fight or Flight response kicked in when I saw her walking toward me and I bolted. I had a panic attack so bad I felt like I was going to vomit. It’s really embarrassing to admit that, but it’s true. The only time I’ve seen her since was at my nephew’s high school graduation (which is the only graduation she got to attend for anyone directly related to her, since my sister dropped out and she didn’t attend mine), but although we made eye contact I looked away pretty quickly and, again, didn’t speak to her. Again, I don’t want to speak to her, this isn’t me complaining, I’ve not lost a single wink of sleep for the fact that she never reached out again despite how my dad likes to go on and on about how she should have “never stopped trying.” (But also, he never picks up the phone to call me for a chat either, despite always telling me how I should call him, so.)
But I just can’t help but notice the similarity. Once again, I have a mother who is refusing to speak to me because she feels I’ve wronged her in some way, and if I want a relationship, then I have to be the one to reach out (even though I already did, but was left on Read, so she wants me to reach out in a very specific way that she won’t even articulate). This isn’t the first time that she (and my dad) have done this, either. When I studied abroad in London, we got into a fight over something stupid over Skype, and I hung up the call. I was 19/20, so you know, not fully mature, but expected to be. Two weeks of silence passed before I had to call them to apologize, because even though their daughter was in a completely foreign country and, hell, could’ve been dead for all they knew, they wanted to Teach Me A Lesson, with that lesson being that unless I behaved the Right Way, they wouldn’t be there for me. And I guess here we are now, about eleven years later, having come full circle with that.
And you know what? I’m tired of it. 
Because here’s the thing about being the second child when the first child is a fuckup in every way: you are expected to not only not fall into those same pitfalls, but also to excel in every single possible way. Not only in terms of grades or whatever else, but also in terms of emotional maturity and support for the parents. This veers into the abuse I experienced, I know (at least some of it), but you know how I mentioned that my biological mother kept going on and on about how much she needed me and whatnot? This is because instead of treating me like her daughter, I was instead treated like her combo maid-servant-therapist. It was my job to wait on her hand and foot when she was home, whether that was through fetching her coffee or being in charge of the refrigerator remaining operational (this sounds specific because it is; when I was about 13 the refrigerator broke and she yelled at me for a.) not knowing it was going to break and b.) not doing anything to prevent it breaking), but also she laid out all of her problems to me day after day, month after month, year after year. Do you know how many times I had to sit and listen to the “your father ran out on me after 22 years of marriage” speech? And when I finally asked her if she could stop she yelled at me because I clearly let him badmouth her but I wouldn’t let her do the same. (He actually didn’t, and neither did my stepmom. She was the only one remaining bitter.) She “needed” me because I was the emotional pillar on top of which sat her own degrading stability. The second time I told her that I wanted to live with my dad (because I told her to her face that I wanted to switch the custody agreement twice, and got browbeaten down twice, before I finally left in secret and didn’t tell her until I was already at his place), she picked up smoking cigarettes again after having quit smoking while she was hospitalized for undiagnosed diabetes and told me that it was my fault that she was smoking again, because I had stressed her out so badly by telling her that I wanted to leave. And like, one, obviously I wanted to leave, is there any question of why I wanted to leave or why that wouldn’t make me just want to leave more? But also two, the point I’m getting at here is that it was always about her, always about her emotional needs, never about mine. My emotional wellbeing was never a priority in that house. I was always expected to be there for her, that was my entire purpose as her daughter. 
With my dad and stepmom it was obviously different, and in a lot of ways it was better because, god, I hated having to be the recipient of the constant stream of stress and misery from my biological mother. My dad and stepmom had each other, so I never had to hear about their woes for the most part. But at the same time, look at what happened when I failed geometry; instead of looking into seeing if they could get me diagnosed with a learning disability, or maybe actually listening to me when I said I felt “burnt out” and pushing a little harder for me to go to therapy, my dad instead yelled at me for an hour and several days after, insulted me, told me I was never going to succeed, and put me under lockdown for the entire summer, cutting me off from my support network of friends. I came from a background of 15 years of abuse, and one fuckup a year or so later lead not to a reexamination of how I was doing, but instead a severe punishment so that I “wouldn’t do it again.” I couldn’t pass a math class in university and in my final year I finally broke and went to my parents about how I really wasn’t going to graduate college because of it, and they agreed to pay to get me examined for a learning disability which, whoops, looks like I had! And my dad still blames me for waiting for so long to get diagnosed and not telling him sooner, when the last time he found I failed a math class that summer lockdown happened. He still hasn’t put the pieces together between that lockdown and why I didn’t tell him about the math classes I failed in university. Amazing.
My point is, with my dad and my stepmom, it wasn’t so much that they used me as an emotional sponge or pillar, but rather that they were pretty much uninvolved so long as I performed adequately, and was the model daughter they could be Oh So Proud Of, but the moment I slipped, bam! Go to jail, go directly to jail, do not pass Go, do not contact your friends. My emotional needs were still not a priority because it wasn’t about whether or not I was okay, but whether or not it looked like I was doing okay in ways that were quantifiable, such as my grades. And I mean, to be fair, I wasn’t exactly keen on opening up about my feelings at that age and I was a pro at masking how I felt and acting like everything was fine because my biological mother would berate me on the car rides to school each morning to the point of tears, and then would yell at me more about how I better clean myself up because god help me if any teachers saw me crying, which would make them think she was a bad parent and that, too, would be my fault. (Protip: Washing your face with very cold water helps clear away the puffiness around the eyes that can be a tell you’ve been crying.) But even so, again, that puts the responsibility on me to do the Right Thing so that they could be there for me emotionally as my parents, and that is just—
I’m so tired of it, man!
I have had three parents and yet have never had the unconditional love of one. Never. My stepmom once tried telling me that she and my dad would love me unconditionally when I was a teen and she was trying to get me to admit I was a lesbian (funny thing is, even I didn’t know I was gay at the time), and my dad walked through the living room and, not even knowing what we were talking about, was like, “No we won’t.” So that was great. But the thing is this whole thing proves that she was full of it, too. Because they tolerate me being gay (while still trying to set me up with men), but because I won’t apologize to my mom when I haven’t done anything wrong but she feels like I have, she’s giving me the complete and total silent treatment until I do. Because I didn’t perform in the way I’m supposed to, because I wasn’t The Mature One, I’m being cut off. Because it’s my job to be The Mature One, because I was always The Mature One, because I never had any goddamn choice in the matter and the dysfunctional environment I was in when I lived with my biological mother (+ my sister, her baby daddy-now-husband, and their two very young children whom I was often put in charge of despite being in middle school at the time because their parents were often too busy doing drugs and/or sleeping to care for them) required it. Because I had to be Kept In Line so that I wouldn’t end up like my sister, but also it was just me that had to be kept in line despite how close in age my brother and I were. And again, I’m not saying that I wish my brother had also been punished harshly, but more that I wish that, you know, maybe some mercy could have been doled out to me, except it wasn��t, because I had two siblings on either side to be compared to and as a result one toe out of the line resulted in a smiting.
But in the end, it isn’t even really about that. This post isn’t really about how I’m simultaneously the eldest daughter but also the second child. It’s more about the fact that I’ve had three parents and yet have never had the unconditional love of even one, even from the one who said I had it. It’s about how my emotional needs were never a priority for any of the parents in my life. It’s about how I basically had to raise myself and it’s a real goddamn wonder I’m not even more screwed up than I actually am because of it. And it’s also about how I really miss therapy and haven’t been able to go for a long time, and I think this rambling stream of consciousness post proves that I really, really need to find a new therapist so I can go back again, because goddamn.
Anyway, once again, do NOT reblog this or I will delete it and block you, I just needed to get this off my chest, but I need it to stay here. Thank you.
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stark-defense-squad · 4 years
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Not Marvel related but...
Everyone talks about toxic relationships, but I have yet to see many people talk about toxic friendships, and let me tell you, they are just as important. So I’m going to describe my experience below because maybe someone out there needs to know that they’re not the only one going/went through it. And I know some people don’t like seeing this sort of stuff so I’ll put it under the break.
So, I guess this is the part where I describe what it was like being in a toxic friendship.
It started the first week of uni. You know, that time when we’re all excited and we’re starting our new lives and we can’t believe it. It’s important here that I mention that I was one of the popular, social kids in school. Whether they loved me or hated me, everyone knew me, and I knew everyone. That’s why I managed to befriend a group of people pretty quickly.
At first, my group was pretty tight knit. None of us was from the state our uni was in and we were all dorm neighbors so it was the best fun.
Then two of us decided that they hated each other, and the rest of us, being the dumb emotional teens that we were, had to choose a side. It was at that time that I actually got to know the friend that the story is about. Let’s call her Debbie to make things easier.
So, Debbie seems cool at first, and she actually was in the right in that first fight. Me, being a righteous dumbass, I took her side, and the most toxic relationship I ever had started.
Debbie had a fun public personality. She was even louder than me and befriended people even faster. I thought it was cool, I didn’t even mind the fact that I seemed to not exist when she and I were in the same room. I didn’t notice how much she was obsessed with being the center of attention though.
Some time into the year, I had a crush and, miraculously enough, he liked me back. We flirted all the time and blushed whenever anyone mentioned it. Debbie didn’t like it, she didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t solely focusing on her and that I was receiving attention she didn’t get. She’d call my crush a “biased Arab sexual assaulter”. I explained to her then that what she was saying was racist and she feigned not knowing so I didn’t pay much attention. My crush had to leave uni due to familial reasons anyhow so it didn’t really matter anymore.
By the time my crush left, I practically had no relationship anymore with my original group of friends while she was still tight knit with them.
Now, for this part of my story, I need to explain a bit about some of the professors at my uni. Prof. S is the young cool professor who still remembers what it was like to be a student so he always tries to take care of us and protect us. Prof. A  is the old angry professor who hates teaching and has a tongue too sharp. Prof. N is the middle aged jolly professor who’s all about making class fun.
So why am I mentioning this? Well, I was pretty good friends with Proff S, but so was Debbie. Prof A loved Debbie but had decided that I was to be his next victim in class. Prof N was nice to all, but he sort of just decided he’d be my father figure throughout my uni days. I loved Prof S but my bond with Prof N was special to me. Debbie didn’t like this either.
Soon enough, whenever Debbie and I would speak about professors, she would speak about how they all loved her more because she was more lovable. She would tell me that Prof N would have private conversations with her about me. She would tell me about how Prof S was personally tutoring her and protecting her from the professor who hated her. Prof A was no question.
I’ll admit that some part of me hurt because I was always the favorite in school. I was the one who did nothing but all the teacher’s pets hated because I got the attention anyway. Now, even Prof N loved Debbie more. I didn’t realize how much of it was lies.
Then, Prof A crossed some lines. I will not say what they are because that is another story. Anyways, I had finally had enough and decided to complain to our advisors. Debbie would not let me, but that was one thing I would not budge on. I complained, and Debbie would not speak to me for a week. It was my punishment for doing something she didn’t want me to do. I was so desperate to get her to forgive me, I didn’t even realize how out of character it was for me to not have other friends to hang out with.
That was not the only concerning behavior that I didn’t realize immediately. I didn’t realize that she would guilt trip me for “abandoning” her to visit my family on weekends or calling them during the day. I didn’t realize that she was reading through my texts without my permission. I didn’t realize she was controlling what I ate and drank. I didn’t realize that she was tracking my phone. I didn’t realize that it was not ok for her to film me all the time even though I was uncomfortable with it. I didn’t realize that it was not ok for her to make me feel bad about having a fandom and being part of a community that shared the same interests. I didn’t realize that it was not ok for her to use my fears against me just so she could film a prank video. I didn’t realize that it was not ok for her to mock me for my sleeping disorder. I didn’t realize that she was throwing racist comments my direction all the time.
“All Asians are ugly,” she would say. When I point out that that is a racist thing to say, she immediately takes it back with, “oh, the only Asians I ever saw are you and [our other friends], so I only meant that you guys are ugly”
Debbie was not a good student. She was expelled from our uni by the end of the year for poor performance. It was quite a shock to be honest because she would always tell me how she was acing her tests without studying while I struggled (I had been a straight A+ student and dropped to a C+).
You’d think the toxicity would end with her leaving our uni. It didn’t. I suddenly found that if I wasn’t spending my every waking hour texting her and calling her and asking about her, that I was a terrible friend and that “our friends” would immediately call me up and tell me that I was a terrible person for not caring about her during her difficult times.
It took some time to adjust to her absence, I’ll admit, but Prof N was a continuous source of support and I soon found that there were actually many people who liked me as I was and would love to befriend me. I quickly found myself hanging out with people I had never thought would be amazing simply because Debbie said they were weird. Prof S was actually one of the closest people to me. My grades improved with the source of most of my stress and distraction gone. I was free to practice interests and express my love for things I could not before. Generally, my life just became so much better.
I dropped Debbie from my life.
It took me some time to see how bad her influence was on my life, but to be honest, the moment I did, the first thing I thought was “I wish I can go back to that moment and just never befriend her” then I realized that I’m thankful I had this experience now, when I’m still in uni, and not later, when having an experience like this could affect so much more.
Anyways, I know how difficult these situations can be and how alone they make you feel, so I wrote this hoping that if anyone else is going through the same, that they’ll know that they’re not alone, and that YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THEM and that it’ll pass, it has to. And maybe, just maybe, if someone is going through it and, like me, they are unable to see it, that they can open their eyes and take care.
This might also be some form of closure.
Anyways, take care lovelies, and always remember that you are worth so much. xoxo
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Title: Rumor Has It {3}
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Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler
Warning: Nah.
Word Count: 4.5K
Summary: Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.
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“I think my marriage is done.”
    Zora and Kizzy looked to each other then back at you. They didn’t speak; it was like they were waiting for something else from you. “Hello, bitches! Did you hear me?”
    “Hold up, don’t go calling us out our name because you’re going through stuff,” Kizzy snapped. You rolled your eyes. She was right. You were high strung. It had been seven hours since your conversation with Chris. He hadn’t called you back, didn’t text, nothing. You were hurt and still pissed.
    “Is this because of the video?” You nodded.
    “What did Chris have to say?” Rolling your eyes, they knew the answer to that. You didn’t have siblings; your cousins were your siblings, and your best friend was your family. They’d been with you through everything, childhood, road to fame, big break, they were even there when you’d met Chris in France. You told them everything. “That great huh,” Zora continued.
“It was like he refused to see my side, he refused to say he’d set boundaries, refused to care.” You tried not to get emotional again. You hated crying.
    “Was this a productive conversation Riah or were you the pissed off wife throwing accusations?” Your jaw dropped at her insinuation. You knew they were on your side, but sometimes you just didn’t know.
    “I didn’t insinuate anything. Yes, I as the pissed off wife because I am pissed off. If he ever expresses he is uncomfortable with something I make a note to change it. It was whatever to be this way when he was single, but he asked me to marry him, it wasn’t the other way around. If it was what he wanted, he should move away from that behavior,” you ranted.
    “We hear you and agree. We just want to make sure you understand part of a marriage is also proper communication. You can’t press his buttons and disrespect him verbally.” Raising your eyebrow, you looked between them wondering if they’d talked to him. There had been plenty times he sought them out for advice on how to handle you. Yes, you could be a handful, but you had standards and refused to lower them even being married.
    “Did you guys talk to him?”
    “No. We know you Riah, we know your fighting style,” Zora explained.
    “Nothing will ever get resolved unless both of you actually listen to each other.” You listened to them carefully; you knew what they said was true, but you listened to Chris; he was the one who always had selective hearing. Then when he spoke, it was always to reply to something. He didn’t listen. Sometimes you wondered if he knew you at all.
    “Anyway, I have some days free. What do you say we hit up MIA and unwind?” Again, Zora and Kizzy looked between each other. They expected this. Whenever you and Chris argued you both disappeared for a few days. He disappeared with communication, and you actually disappeared preferring to get out of dodge.
    “You can’t run away from your husband Riah,” Kizzy informed.
   “I’m not running from anything. I just want to enjoy my few days free on the beach in Miami. Are y’all coming or not?”
    You knew they’d come. Slowly they smiled, and you knew you had em. You finished dinner taking heed to stay away from any of your drama and listening to theirs instead. When you left, you were bombarded by paps shouting questions at you. “Uriah, any comment on the footage of Chris with his costar?” “Uriah, is there trouble in your storybook romance?” “Do you and Chris have an open marriage?” You and yours pushed through the paps to your valeted car.
Before you got in one more photog shouted a question; “Any message you want to send to Ana De Armas?” That one tripped you up. Your slick ass mouth almost went off and said “back the fuck up off my man and find your own you thirsty bitch” but thankfully you caught yourself. Keeping a smile plastered to your face, you climbed into the driver’s side and drove off. You refused to play the jealous, territorial wife that was not the part you auditioned for.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Twelve hours later, you were in Miami being shown to your penthouse. When the three of you walked inside, you marveled at the interior decoration; it screamed South Beach. You smiled and walked out to the private pool and closed your eyes with your head tilted to the sky. It was beautiful weather, and you intended to take advantage of it. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. It made your heartbeat pick up thinking it was Chris. Glancing down at the screen you sighed out seeing it wasn’t him. It was his sister Carly. Sighing you put it back in your pocket. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to her you just didn’t want to think about him, or anything related to him. You’d already failed your self-given challenge with a simple thing like a ringing phone.
    He didn’t call last night or text. It’s not that you expected him to, you didn’t—well part of you didn’t. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t hoped he’d call and apologize and say everything you wanted him to but you learned long ago individuals were their own people, no matter how much you hoped and wished for them to do something or be a way they probably wouldn’t because you couldn’t control them. It was a hard lesson to learn and an even harder one to stomach in a marriage.
    Last night you’d gone over everything minuscule detail of the conversation with him, and you didn’t think you’d been irrational. You were actually surprised you hadn’t gone bat shit crazy on him. in the four years you’d been married you could remember worse arguments. Yes, you did say a few things with a disrespectful tone, and yes you may have pushed his buttons with some things just because, and yes the comment about kids was a low blow that could have gone unsaid, but besides that, it was a rational, calm discussion. “Fuck,” you mumbled realizing you’d let the kid comment slip and it would lead to an even bigger argument.
    “Ready to get some grub?” Kizzy’s voice snapped you out your thoughts, and you pasted the same smile you’d worn for the last twelve hours.
    “Yeah, let’s go. I’m hungry.”
    “You’re always hungry,” Zora responded. She wasn’t lying. You could always eat. It was one of the reasons Chris said he fell in love with you.
    A few minutes later you were in a car on your way to one of the best restaurants in the area. With one ear you listened to Kizzy and Zo talk about some guy they’d met on set. You put the rest of your attention on social media. You scrolled through Instagram first not looking for anything in particular just a past time from point A to point B. you came across a picture of Chris signing autographs, it was the first in a series. You sideswiped to the ones that followed and knew they were from his current engagement in Toronto. The last picture he was posed by himself, but he wasn’t smiling, his jaw looked tight, and his stance looked tense. It didn’t come across like his usual self. Part of you felt a tinge of guilt that maybe it was because of you, but as soon as it washed over you, it faded.
    The driver announcing your arrival brought you to close the app and slide out the car. You were grateful there were no paparazzi. When you sat down and skimmed the menu, you quickly found what you were going to eat and wasted no time ordering. “Shopping next or beach?”
    “Definitely shopping, we can hit the beach tomorrow and make it an all-day event,” Kizzy responded.
  When your food came, the three of you joked like always. You were relieved that even with everything going on, they hadn’t switched up. You’d lost friends on this road they called fame. Some you’d lost because of your rising star, some you’d lost because of drifting apart, and some you’ve even lost because they thought your husband was a challenge to see who he’d sleep with.
    When you made it back to the penthouse, the sun was setting, and you really didn’t want to be left with your thoughts. So, you suggested a night of fun--fun you desperately needed. The three of you showered and changed. When you were finished you assessed Kizzy’s work in the mirror, she really was the best make up artist around, and she was all yours.
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  Pulling up to the club, you could hear the music from the outside and see the long line wrapping around the sidewalk. Everyone knew this was the hottest club in Miami. As the three of you approached the security at the front, you knew when they recognized you. The two burly men nodded to you as they opened the door for you. Once inside the music became even louder. You looped arms with Kizzy and Zo and walked through the red-tinted corridor. At the end, you were met by one of the girls who worked there, she was dressed in a short, tight white dress and held a bottle in one of her hands. The closer you got you made out her face, she was pretty.
    “Mrs. Evans,” she began. Raising your hand to stop her before she continued you corrected her.
    “Uriah is fine.” She smiled, then held out the bottle she carried. Taking it, you read it — Ace of Spades, the good stuff.
    “Tino, the owner, wanted you to know how glad he is that you’re in the house.” You didn’t know how he knew you were in the house, you literally just walked in. “Follow me; I’ll take you to VIP.” You nodded and followed behind her as she took a path that was close to all the other patrons but not close enough where they could grab you. Some recognized you as you passed and called your name. You smiled and waved while forcing the awkward feeling down. This was never something you’d gotten used to. You never got the draw of being fascinated with celebs. The fact Chris was a celebrity was one of the reasons you ignored the hell out of him and disappeared from the street festival you’d met at.
    When you got to VIP the three of you situated and popped open the bottle, the first round you guzzled, as you did the second. By the time you were on your third glass, you were standing up dancing to the music and beginning to have a good time. With every Nikki Minaj song, and Drake anthem and Reggae bop that came on you drank more and more and twerked your ass faster and faster. By the time Beyonce came on, you were sure you mouth every lyric of “Don’t Hurt Yourself,” a special request by Zo. All of your problems drifted, and the only thing you cared about was what your next drink was going to be, tequila, bourbon, vodka, or maybe something that really fucked someone up; rum.
    By the time you staggered out the club, the paps were there to snap your less than ladylike exit. You knew you’d had too much to drink and there they were to catch all of your disgracefulness. They shouted questions, none of which you clearly heard. As you, Kizzy and Zo shuffled into the waiting car you did make out one question “What do you think Chris will say about your party girl days coming back and you not wearing your wedding ring?” Groaning you dropped your head back on the headrest, you knew he’d hate it.
    The next day was torture. It was a day you remembered why you’d slowed down on your party days when you got married. You were hungover. What’s more, you got text messages from your team showing headlines of you across many internet blogs. Somehow they’d gotten pictures of you and your friends in VIP drinking, laughing and dancing. There were even pictures of your brief conversation with the owner; Tino. The pics looked suggestive, but the attention was purely one-sided—his side. Then to top it off they got picture of you exiting the club and close-ups of your hand sans wedding ring.
    There were so many comments and people who wanted to have their piece of the conversation. Much of it was from your fans and supporters agreeing with your actions. Comments ranged from women who were saying you should live your best life and teach Chris a lesson, to offering to put “the homewrecker”  in her place, and even those telling you to go off and do some straight-up messed up shit. There were even comments from men saying you were acting like an immature girl trying to one-up Chris. Some were saying you should respect your husband and work it out between each other and not over social media. There were even a few who went above and beyond to say you deserved this treatment because you went out without your wedding ring which shows the woman you are. It was all overwhelming.  
    Your team wanted you to do damage control and release a statement that explained you going wedding ring free and appease the masses by assuring your marriage was fine. You felt that was bullshit. Why should you have to explain shit? You actually did nothing wrong. So, you told your team to back off and let the chips fall where they may. While you lied down you began to wonder if he’d seen any of the headlines, or if he was pissed or if he cared at all. You hadn’t gone out with the intent to get back at him you just wanted to cut loose and forget some things. You knew to him it would look like one of your subliminal messages. He hated your sometimes passive aggressive messages. You tried to work on it, but sometimes you did revert.
    Your head was killing you, so you spent the majority of the daylight hours in bed nursing it. The only thing you could do was watch TV and wish you felt better. It was brutal, something you’d forgotten about. As you laid in the bed feeling absolutely sick to your stomach, you began to miss him. You missed him a lot. You usually would talk several times a day and text all throughout. He would tell you all about his day, and you’d do the same. Usually every night you were separated it ended with Facetime sex. It was one of the personal vows you’d made to each other on your wedding night when you had a second more private vow ceremony. It had been two nights now that hadn’t happened, two days you hadn’t talked or texted, and you hated it.
    You were so close to caving in and calling him, so close to just giving in to your feelings but every time your finger hovered over the green phone button you hesitated. You wanted to hear his voice more than almost anything, but you also knew you weren’t wrong for thinking what you did or feeling like your husband was being a dick about it. When you remembered all of that, you tossed the phone away and tried to get some sleep.
    When you awoke, it was night, and Kizzy busted in the room squealing. “Oh god Kiz, the volume.” She jumped on the bed sending everything on it flying into the air before it dropped back down. You had no idea why she was so chipper. She drank even more than you or did you drink the most. You couldn’t remember exactly. “Guess who got an invite to the white party tonight!” smiling and jutted her thumbs to herself with a self-satisfying grin across her face. “Zo and I went for a swim in the rooftop pool on the other side of the hotel and bumped into Christina White, oh my god she is so beautiful. Anyway she recognized me, can you believe that Riah? Then we got to talking, a few glasses of champagne and a couple dozen compliments later she invites me to the party tonight. The hottest party and we got an invite.”
    You didn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her you’d already been invited and had opted to stay in bed for the night. Instead, you smiled. “Of course, she invited you, and of course she recognized you. You’re the hottest makeup artist in the game Kiz. It’s long overdue they started to put some respect on your name, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re too big for me.” She smiled then rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll always give you the best rate.” You laughed together as Zo dropped herself on the bed as well.
    “So, we’re going right. How can we pass on The White Party, come on?” Zo’s voice was pleading. You’d been invited for the last eight years and for the last four years you passed. The last one, you and Chris, planned to go together but something came up with work for the both of you, so it never happened. You took up your phone and checked your messages. There were more messages from your team, some from you mom no doubt having seen and heard all the hoopla and wanting to check to see if her favorite son in law was being treated well. The only name evidently missing was Chris’. He still had yet to call or text. It hurt yes, but it also made you angry all over again.
    “Of course, White Party here we come.”
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  After staring at your rings on the dresser top for almost twenty minutes, you decided to leave them there. Your fingers looked bare; you almost didn’t recognize your hand. You’d gotten so used to the accessories that you felt strange not wearing them. Brushing the feelings to the side you set out for the exclusive White Party that was hosted by none other than the White siblings.
    Christina and Christiano White were affluent royalty. They weren’t actually royalty, but they were set for life like them. They were the twins of billionaire Randy White and his third wife ex-beauty queen Mariposa De La Verde Cruz-White. Randy was so rich he made old money seem like lunch money. Instead of keeping up with the Jones’ a lot of people tried to keep up with the Whites, you weren’t one of those people though.
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  When you made it to the Versace mansion where the party was being held, your jaw dropped at the outlandish display of opulence. It was like Mardi Gras, Carnival, and Crop Over all mixed in one with bling bling everywhere. “How rich are these people again,” Zo whispered to you. “So rich, they could give every American a salary of twenty grand a year.” You’d read that in some tabloid magazine. The three of you walked down the white carpet and smiled for photographers. You made sure not to stop for any questions. You knew everything they were going to ask.
    After slipping inside the three of you got a much needed drink, you decided to go slow tonight. You didn’t want to fly with a hangover tomorrow. Scanning the room, you saw most of the big names in the entertainment and fashion industry. They all were dressed to the nines in their sexiest white outfits and no doubt trying to one up each other in some way. Sipping your drink in your own sexy outfit, you and your friends gossiped about everyone’s outfits, the thirsty women there trying desperately to snag some hot star for the night and even the décor. Zo and Kizzy pointed out some cute ones they wouldn’t mind getting close to. You gave the go ahead to go shoot their shots knowing they wouldn’t voluntarily leave you.
      You watched from across the room as they each flirted and no doubt dazzled the two guys, you knew them as Aaron Blake and Quentin Porter. They were cute but not your type. You made your way back to the bar for another drink. “The beautiful lady will have a glass of Armand de Brignac Champagne, make it rose̒.” You looked to your right and saw none other than Christiano White. You smiled, then shook your head. “Still your drink of choice, right?” He leaned on the bar and smiled at you. He was still very handsome.
    “Eh, everyone seems to think so. It’s the one thing I always get sent.” Laughing he sipped his own drink, it was probably Vodka, he sure loved him so Vodka, or he did four years ago. “How are you little Dove?” you took up the glass placed before you and drank half of it down before answering him.
    “All right. How are you?” Christiano nodded his head, then finished his glass. “Better now. Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
    “I got invited.”
    “You’ve always been invited. You stopped coming when you decided that I wasn’t good enough to be around anymore.” You could hear the disdain in his voice. Here we go, you thought. You finished the glass and raised your finger to the bartender to request another.
    “I never said you weren’t good enough. Those words never came out of my mouth.” Christiano nodded, but he didn’t look like he agreed.
  Christiano looked around again before he looked back to you. “Sure seemed like it. What exactly was it you said then, a month before you married some actor who looks like the carbon copy of me? what was the point of that?” You rolled your eyes, not wanting to get into this.
    “He doesn’t look like you Chris,” you clarified, using the nickname everyone called him. he scoffed hearing it. “Isn’t that his name too? Sounds like a carbon copy. Miss me, little dove?” You looked over him. He was in a white linen shirt and white board shorts. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down showing his toned chest and abs. Christiano wasn’t an ugly guy, in fact he was hot as hell, hot enough for you to have had an on and off two-year relationship.
    “I recognize that look in your eyes.” He stepped closer. Before the space was respectable of your marital situation, now it was personal, intimate. He lifted his hand and moved it toward your jaw. Before he made contact you slid back a little. “Come on Christiano, play nice.” You gave him your sweetest smile, a smile he couldn’t help but return. “Are you enjoying yourself little dove?” Looking back to your glass you nodded.
    “You always did know how to throw a party.” Before you could register it, Christiano leaned to your ear and whispered. “We could be throwing these together, as Mr. and Mrs. White.” He slowly pulled back, and your eyes met. Once upon a time you had thought about marrying him. You didn’t know Chris then, and things were good. Clearing your throat and breaking the eye contact you looked down to your exposed thigh.
  “I’m already a Mrs.” Christiano scoffed and nodded.
    “Are you sure, little dove? I’ve seen the tabloids. Trouble in paradise?” You clenched your jaw and fought off the urge to roll your eyes. “Low blow?”
    “You know anything you say could never hurt me, Chris.” He laughed and leaned closer. “That’s right; you’re bulletproof, no shots fired could ever touch you.” You’d told him that years ago and meant it. You were still the same woman, but you’d never tell him you weren’t entirely bulletproof anymore.
    “You don’t deserve that, Riah, you know that right.” You shrugged off any emotion and looked at him. “You’re still as sweet as ever.” You placed a chaste kiss to his cheek and turned back to the bar and finished the champagne.
    “Come on, say hello to everyone.” He took your hand and led you through the mansion and before you knew it, you were surrounded by your old crowd, some new and some you’d seen plenty of times over the years. Everyone greeted you with hugs, cheers and a lot of vodka. It was like old times. The music cranked, and your friends joined you.
    The rest of the night passed with drinks, laughs, and dances. You danced with Zo and Kizzy and with Christina and in a circle with other girls. You could feel Christiano’s eyes on you the entire night, and you knew it was wrong, but you didn’t mind it. You’d never take it anywhere in a million years, you’d said your vows, and you meant that shit with everything in you. That didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun and remind Chris that he isn’t the only hot piece of ass that people want to get on top or under. Close to two in the morning you felt bold enough to give Christiano a dance, you kept it clean, but his hands roamed as they always did. Every time they traveled anywhere but your waist, you were quick to wag your finger at him. He always laughed it off. Christiano always thought everyone was fair game. Maybe you being there was giving him those vibes. You were far from fair game.
    When the sun was coming up was when you made your way out the hidden entrance of the mansion. Christiano tried to convince you to stay with him in one of the rooms, but you heavily declined. There was no way you’d do that. When he finally got it he made sure one of his drivers were on hand to get you back to your hotel. Christiano opened the door, Kizzy, and Zo slid in the car talking amongst themselves about nothing, they were drunk as hell. You turned to Christiano and nearly lost your balance. His hand slid around you, pulled you close and held you up. Your eyes met his hazel ones, and you shared a moment—a literal moment. You found your balance and pulled away. “Thanks.” He smiled and nodded. “Don’t be a stranger little dove. My doors are always open for you.” You snorted.
    "Which doors exactly LA, Miami, Greece, Virgin Islands, Bahamas, Mexico, Brazil--.” Christiano cut you off with a roll of his eyes. “You missed quite a few, but all of them. Anytime.” You knew just what he meant. He wanted you to leave Chris and go back to him. “Uh-huh.” You slid in the car as Christiano shut the door. He waved to you while biting his bottom lip. Another lifetime maybe. In this one your heart belonged to one man. As the car drove off you began to wonder if he even deserved it anymore. You closed your eyes, sighed and decided that tomorrow you’d worry about your problems.
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obeymematches · 4 years
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Good day! Can I have a match up please? I'm an oddball that toes the line between INFP and INTP and I'm a science student majoring in Chemistry. Personality-wise, I'm quiet, stubborn, secretive and can be socially awkward to people I'm not familiar with. On the other hand, I'm also observant and understanding, and I'm seen mostly as the voice of reason among my friends because of how rational I am. It takes a while for me to warm up; and when I do, I joke a lot and go full dork mode [1/2]
Contrary to my petite build and my decent appearance, I have a very boyish personality. My friends also think I give good advice. For my hobbies, I like playing video games (mainly fighting games; apparently I have a murder face on when I play and I get high key competitive though I'm chill most of the time), watching anime and YouTube videos, sketching, spending time with my friends, reading, attending conventions and taking walks in nature. Thanks for your time, stay safe and healthy! :D [2/2]  Ayo happy Friday! (at least from where I'm from ^^;) INFP-INTP tomboy anon here. I've just read your new rules and I'd like to add on to my request if that's ok with you. What I look for in a partner is open-mindedness, intelligence and someone who's understanding. These stemmed from being judged, bullied and outcasted from my childhood for basically being an oddball and not conforming to societal norms of what girls like or behave like. I've learnt to retaliate by snarking though. [1/2] For what I can offer, I reckon a voice of reason, understanding, and a clear perspective to problems would probably be what I can bring to the table, along with humour as I joke a lot around people I'm comfortable with. My sense of humour can be a bit dark like Satan or Belphie though. I'd like to end off by saying thank you for all the efforts you put into our matchups. They're so nice to read and we can really see the effort in them. Meanwhile hope you're healthy and happy on your side! [2/2]
Hi! Thank you for sending in a request, and sorry for the wait! 
special thanks for the compliments, you’re really so sweet love🥺🥺🥺 i hope you like the result!! 
So I wanted to do yours yesterday but I’m going to keep it real with you, I had to think about it. Originally I wanted Lucifer but then I read your request again and realized that you much much prefer someone open-minded (and no offense to Luci because i like him but not sure about him being open-minded to put it frankly lol) so i decided that Belphie might actually be better.
Here is why:
So we know that he doesn’t actually like to attend his classes but that is mostly because he is the avatar of sloth so can you blame him for being lazy. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t actually like the fact that you are good at and you value education! in fact in canon he is actually rather smart so yeah
I think your rather quiet and less-outgoing nature will go well with his own. He doesn’t handle social situations as badly as poor Levi, but our man Blephegor would definitely value nap-dates much more than a party. 
The fact that you’re stubborn makes him like you a lot, except when/if you refuse to prank his brothers with him :| 
This man has lots of secrets himself so if someone can see right through your secretive nature it’s probably this guy. (also probably Satan but this match is not about him)
 I think the fact that you are a rational person goes well with his chaotic way of living. By this I mean that don’t really expect him to make a 180° turn and become the most lawful person ever, but you can probably get him out of trouble when needed. Or help him plan out some pranks better so hopefully you won’t get caught. 
You being rational could also help him in his debate with Lucifer, I don’t know where you are in the story and what you think about that entire situation, but I’m sure you’ll be able to help them out. 
He takes a while to warm up to you too, so the first couple of times you spend together might be kind of awkward. He probably invites you to play video games with him though. Or maybe if he doesn’t then you can just talk about it with him, or he overhears you and Levi discussing somehting. So anyway that is  a posisble ice-breaker! 
I think both him and Levi would be competitive gamers, although I can also see Belphie as the rather chill gamer whos more into indie stuff. But if you want to, you can get him to fight! 
I think he would also join in you watching something on the TV. Cons are probably not his thing, but every once in a while you can get him to join you and Levi! (I mean it’s not like he will ever let Levi take advantage of his absence)
So at first I was a bit concerned about him being open-minded, but then i remember that actually he really liked humans at first and if that’s not open-minded in demon standards then idk what is. The things is that it’s in past tense, so be prepared to have patience with him. And don’t be afraid to be yourself and be the vioce of reason you are - but be considerate of his emotions, as he has trust issues because of a reason. It takes time to get over something like that.
Once you get past his trust issues and he starts to see you in a different light, he is probably one of the more understanding of the brothers. He has to deal with so much emotion, so he can understand your feelings in return. This is what gives a strong base to your relationship! 
After he f i n a l l y opens up he is going to stick by your side 24/7, so you’ll have plenty of opportunity to joke around.
Conclusion: definitely a relationship that takes months - even a year to develop into something romantic. But it will be worth the wait, as the two of you slowly start to open up and realize how many things you actually have in common. The fact that you both suffered a lot gives an extra layer of understanding and that is very important in a relationship. Dates are rather chill and stay-at-home dates (taking a nap, watching a movie in a dark bedroom, stuff like that) unless you want to go somewhere with one of his brothers. If you go without him he will probably guilt-trip you so there might be a conversation you need to have about that,, 
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thehoodsweetheart · 5 years
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A/N: I haven’t written in a very long time so please be gentle with me. I got in the mood to write and thought, why not? Loosely proofread it. I hope it’s not complete trash. :( Anyways, Auntie Bey releasing Lemonade for streaming gave your girl some inspo. Please comment and let me know your thoughts.
Word Count: 2,471
Warnings: Slight Angst (?), Violence, Hints of emotional abuse, Fuckboy Erik
Summary: You love Erik, but you can’t let him compromise your integrity.
Erik x Black Reader (will always be a Black reader. Sorry not Sorry).
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The iPhone’s screen illuminated white with its signature black apple dead center. You inhaled deeply letting out an exasperated breath awaiting the lock screen to appear. You used your thumb to spin the wedding ring around your finger. Your eyes shifted from the device to the house you were parked in front of. It was large modern styled house, almost as if it were overcompensating for something. The lawn was well manicure yet it showed no semblance of life. At 11:45 AM, not a single light peaking from any of the vast windows, or a single car in the winding driveway to give the impression that someone was ‘home’.  Great... This was your home.
The chiming of the overbearing amount of notifications snapped out of your daze. You furrowed your eyebrows together immediately turning off the ringer to silence the noise. 587 text messages, 107 missed calls, 107 voicemails to accompany those missed calls, and let’s not count the emails, Instagram DM’s, and Facebook messages. They were pretty much all from Erik, except for a few texts from your best friend Samantha, Shuri, and T’Challa. Nonetheless, their texts were probably due to Erik pestering them.
Five days. That’s how long you were gone. Five days since your phone was last turned on. You thought Erik should have given up after the first 20 unanswered calls and text messages. You made it very clear that you done this time. Matter of fact, you promised you were done. You opened the stream of Erik’s texts trying to scroll as much as you could to get a glimpse where he was mentally. His texts went from being riddled with arrogance and indifference, in true Erik Stevens form, to desperate and apologetic, then came the slue of “I love you’s”. You slouched in your seat behind the steering wheel and continued to skim the texts rolling your eyes.
The most recent voicemail from Erik made your chest tight as a lump formed in your throat. His voice was laced with venom.
Y/n, you really on some bullshit! How many times do a nigga have to apologize love? I’ve been calling you like I’m FUCKIN’ CRAZY! (He chuckles darkly.)You really gone walk away from everything like that baby? You left me here with our daughter and you don’t even give a fuck. What if something happened to Iman and I was trying to let you know? What the fuck kind of mother are you!? (Iman cried in the background.)
How dare he use her against you? You blinked away tears thinking of your 8-month-old daughter. You loved Iman with your entire being. She was literally the light of your life and string of hope that love still remained in your marriage. You never wanted to leave her but you couldn’t stay. There was also no way in hell Erik would let you take her with you. The night you left he refused to let you take her. Now he was trying to guilt trip you.
Erik cheated.This wasn’t his first affair either. You honestly questioned if this was truly the second affair. You guys were nearing your third year of marriage and he’d already been caught having an affair prior to this. The first time was during your first year of marriage. You’d questioned why he even married you in the first place, but he swore he loved nobody like he loved you and couldn’t live without you. Like the naïve girl you were, you forgave him. This time you couldn’t. You promised if he cheated again, you would walk away and never look back.
--
Erik followed you into you guys shared home, loosening his tie and shrugging out of his tuxedo jacket. You all were just returning home from a benefit hosted by the Wakandan Outreach Center. His eyes fixed on your ample rear-end and wide set hips as they swayed with your vigorous walk. Your black body-con dress flattered every curve. He noted your postpartum weight had provided you with some desirable assets.
He was hot on your trail as you reached the kitchen opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.
You needed a drink of water to hopefully ease the nauseous feeling that developed mid-dinner. As the benefit went on, you were left with your thoughts, which only made you feel worse. On the surface you played it cool, keeping a warm smile and socializing with the benefit goers but still keeping a watchful eye on your husband…and his intern. She felt no shame in openly flirting with him as he fed right into it with his dimpled smile and occasional wink.
Erik snaked an arm around your waist pressing his groin into your butt. You shrugged him off of you rounding the island that centered the kitchen. Erik scoffed in annoyance.
“What the fuck is wrong with you now?”
“YOU-you’re fucking your intern!” The words spilled out of your mouth like word-vomit as tears threatened the rims of your eyes.
Erik clenched and unclenched his jaw before squaring his shoulders his feet planted apart. His almost natural militant stance still screamed righteousness no matter if he had just been called out.
“What intern?” He arched his brow with a smug look.
Before you could think twice, you snatched off your So Kate pumps and threw them directly at his head missing by a few centimeters. He stood there with a look of bewilderment. You knew it would only be a matter of time before he’d try to come after you and that’d be your ass.
“Fuck you Erik! You know exactly who I’m talking about! HOW LONG HUH?! I saw the text messages and nasty ass pictures she sent you last night! Distasteful bitch! Was it her in the video that you lied and tried to say it was random porn?! You must think I’m fuckin stupid!” You screamed.
You grabbed the closest thing to you, which was an empty glass bowl and hurled it in his direction.  Your vision was blurred with tears but your aim was still pretty accurate. Maybe playing softball in your youth did pay off. The bowl hit his built shoulder and went crashing on the floor.
“Stop throwing shit! YES I FUCKED HER OKAY?! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO KNOW? And it was her in the video. But I don’t give a fuck about her!” Erik barked as he stormed toward you.
You might’ve been pissed but you were still a smart bitch. You dodged his reach picking up another dish to throw at him before scurrying to the farther side of the kitchen. You didn’t care if he gave a fuck about his intern or not, he still fucked her. He still made the conscious decision to break your trust and ruin the small family you were building. Your chest heaved as angrily wiped the makeup stained tears from your cheeks.
“YOU OBVIOUSLY DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME EITHER! You only care about yourself! You disgust me. I put my dreams and career on hold to cater to you. I never wanted to be a stay at home mom and you knew that! Yet I still did it for us, so that our daughter could at least be around one of her parents consistently. You’re hardly ever home these days! You treat me like shit! You lie to me! You never have time for me. You cheat on me with God only knows how many other women! I’M DONE!”
--
You wipe your stray tears stuffing the phone into your hoodie’s pocket. Your shaky hands fiddled with the keys before pulling them out of the ignition.  You quickly get out of your Range Rover Velar and stroll towards the house. You unlock the house to be met with silence and the familiar scent of home. The scent was a mixture of fresh linen and lavender vanilla from your favorite candles.
You eyes scanned the first floor of the open floor plan home. There was still no sign of Erik. You blew out a sign of relief as you ventured further into the house.  You walked into the living room seeing some of Iman’s toys and a blanket thrown about. Out of habit you collect them, putting them in their respectful places before folding her baby blanket and laying it in the play-pin she had in the living room. A couple pairs of his shoes littered the floor and one of Iman’s bottles. Like her mom, Iman liked to throw things and with good aim.
“You would think he’d be neater being in the Navy and all.” You scoffed rolling your eyes.
He actually was neat. Often times, neater than you so seeing things out of place were odd. You knew Erik was probably ready to pull his dreads out having to deal with Iman alone for five days. Iman was definitely a busybody, despite not walking yet she could manage to crawl and climb whatever whenever she got the chance. He could finally see how you felt… aside from being cheated on.
A sizable gold photo frame laid faced down on the end table near where most of Iman’s mess was. You picked up the photo taking in the details of its broken glass before focusing in on the actual picture. It was a picture of your wedding day. Another item you attempted to throw at Erik in your heated rage. You and Erik looked like a genuinely happy couple there, nothing forced like the past few months were. You placed your hand over your mouth to hush your sobs. How could you have gotten to this point?
You were never a violent person. You weren’t even easily angered. You were always cool and collected trying to see a positive in any situation. Conflict just wasn’t your thing but mostly due to you being so sensitive. Erik had always joked that you were the calm to his storm. That you were, the calm always willing to offer comfort and rationality so when it came to the point where your love was being taken advantage of you exploded. It was your turn to bring the storm.
Erik stood in the distance taking in the sight of you. Your curly hair thrown in a messy topknot as a few tight curls escaped, hanging freely around your face. Your honey brown golden skin looked like it lost a bit of color, as if you were indoors for the entire five days or maybe sick. Your almond shaped eyes were puffy, nose a bit red, and already full lips looked a little swollen. No matter how disheveled another person may have thought you looked, he saw your beauty. The same beauty that captured him from the first moment he set eyes on you. Erik’s face contorted into a frown as he hastily wiped his own tears.
You must’ve felt him staring because you looked up only to lock eyes with him. Your breathing hitched as he walked closer to you but you didn’t move, you couldn’t move. Here was the alleged love of your life and very sight of him made you want to punch him in the face, vomit, cry, hate him, love him and be held all at the same time. It physically pained your stomach.
Erik reached out and touched your hand causing you to pull back as if being shocked by electricity.
“I just came to get my things. I’ll be leaving shortly.” You said just above a whisper your eyes shifting to the floor.
“Please-please don’t leave.” Erik croaked only to be met with silence. You stared at him with a blank expression.
“Where’s Iman?” You muttered.
“She’s in her nursery taking a nap.” He sounded defeated as he tossed the baby monitor on the couch. You nodded attempting to walk around him only to be stopped.
“Wait! I-I know I fucked up. I just want to apologize baby. I was wrong for being a fucked up husband and cheating. I was being selfish. I felt like I was losing myself by giving my all to you and I’m sorry. I allowed my ego get the best of me. You didn’t deserve none of the shit I put you through--”
“You’re right you are selfish. You ain’t shit for what you did to me.” You cut him off.
He dropped his head looking at his feet. Erik nodded before looking into your eyes and grabbing your hands. His large calloused hands engulfing your small delicate ones.
“Just hear me out Y/N. I love you with all of my being. You and Iman are the best things that have ever happened to me and I don’t even deserve y’all. I can’t take losing another person I love. I need you baby. If I gotta beg you for your forgiveness everyday I will. I already fired her. Shit, I’ll even go to marriage counseling. Whatever it takes. We can re-build; take it as slow as you need…Fuck! I don’t—I can’t let you walk away. Just don’t leave me baby.” Erik gripped your hips his fingertips digging into your flesh.
Your gaze studied the intricate scars adorning his forearms. Without thought, your fingers traced the pattern. He leaned down pressing his forehead against yours. You dared not to look in his eyes. A teardrop hitting your nose caught you off guard. You took in a sharp breath chewing on your bottom lip. In the many years of knowing your husband, you can count on one hand how many times you’d seen him cry. You draped your arm around his neck stroking the back of his head.
“It’s going to take more than an apology to get your family back. I refuse to raise childrenin a toxic environment.” You said just above a whisper.
Iman’s wails echoed through the baby monitor. You immediately broke away from Erik rushing up the stairs to her nursery. You missed your baby and not having her was the worse part of those five days.  You scooped Iman up in your arms rocking her as you kissed all over her round golden face. Her cries subsided as she offered you a two-toothed grin flexing the dimples in her chubby cheeks, Erik’s dimples.  
“Mommy’s here. I’m so sorry my sweet girl.” You clung to her as tears fell down your cheeks.
“Y/N…” Erik called out as he stood in the doorway with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
You turned around to face him with a raised eyebrow.
“I found the pregnancy tests in our bathroom.” Erik stated plainly.
You never got around to telling him but you’d known you were pregnant for at least two weeks.
“I never hid them…”
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