#i change and the place changes but my memories do not change
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Reveal | a.Putellas x j.Hermoso
Hidden secrets series
Hidden secrets Masterlist
Warning: mention of pregnancy, fluff
Today was the day alexia and jenni would find out the baby's gender.
alexia had already gone for the test only waiting to find out the results. which her sister alba had taken upon herself to get and plan a little reveal party for the couple.
As she and her mom were the only one's who knows about them having a baby.
Alba had kicked both alexia and jenni out of their home to set up the mini gender reveal party. She had already ordered those cake that reveal the gender depending on the colors. along with a few sweet treats and gifts from her and their mom.
Alexia and jenni on the other hand, had decided to go too one of the beaches close to her house after getting some refreshment before heading there.
Finally finding themselves a spot once they've arrived they both sat down before getting another word for one another.
"So do you think we're having a girl or boy" jenni asked alexia .
"I'm not quite sure I know if am begin honest with you" she said while laughing a little.
"Doesn't carrying a baby come's with a little motherly prediction"
"The only motherly prediction I know is that My baby is the size of a bell pepper" this time while giggling
"Our baby is the size of a bell pepper". Jenni repeated properly for alexia.
While alexia had a huge grin on her face knowing what she did there.
"I know just messing with your head" she told the older woman before leaving a kiss on her lips.
before jenni could reply alexia had told her that alba was ready for them to get home now after getting a massage notification.
On there way back to the car hands interning they hadn't noticed someone taking a picture of both of them too lost in their own bubble.
Finally arriving back to there place alexia felt huge nerves. of course she would be happy no matter what the babies gender was.
but she just felt some type of way without explanation before she could go farther on her thinking lane jenni had snapped her out of it.
The door slowly opend revealing the decorated place with balloons around one side of the room and a cute sliver saying baby.
with a clear blue and pink balloons floating around, the cake that was also on the table. But the one that caught alexia alexia and jenni's attention would be the white balloon that had a gold font writing boy or girl where they'll find out the gender of their baby.
"You do know that you could pop the balloon or cut the cake to find out the gender". alba told the couple.
"Which one would you prefer?". Jenni asked
"The cake preferably".
"Now that we figured it out ale come with me and jenni please go to the other room where you'll find some clothes to change into".
Alba told the couple before separating them to different room's. She had gotten both of them a white top that says mom's to be and a pair of baggy jeans for both of them. Alexia couldn't be more grateful to her sister for trying to make everything so memorial for them.
quickly getting change and letting her hair down so she could fix it up a little. Once she was done she turned around giving her sister a hug.
"You should show the bump a little it would look good". Alba suggested to alexia.
alexia sighed before doing what she was told, one look in the mirror she realized what alba meant has it made her look and feel amazing.
Before both the sister got out alba grabbed alexia hands saying.
'You'd be the best mother to that child no matter what you're an amazing sister daughter and person ale one of the most strongest person I know you've made everyone proud so please never look down on yourself love you". she told alexia
"oh germana thank you so much your words and actions means a lot to me". She told alba before the both embraced each other into another hug until they heard eli calling for them.
"Coming mami". they said in synchronization Before going back to the main room.
Finally making their way out there joining Eli and jenni who seems to be having a convo of their own,after a while alba had made the couple take some pictures and videos that they could look back on.
The moment they all been waiting for alexia and jenni held the knife together and sliced into the cake revealing a soft pink color.
They were having a girl their own baby girl.the rush of excitement and happiness that filed the room couldn't be explained.
"We're having a girl". jenni said to alexia
"Yes we are". she could bearly reply has tears of joy were flowing down her face the only feeling she had now was to be the best mother to her unborn child.
Before she knew it jenni had mange too pull her off her feets that changed into a hug before pulling her again into a deep kiss not caring that her sister and mom were there with them.
Eli and alba gave the couple space before joining them for the celebration.
Everyone obviously enjoying the moment that happening. Alba had grabbed her phone to post a small tease about the gender reveal without linking it to alexia.
but instead got a lot of notifications that she clicked on upon seeing the photo of alexia an jenni on the beach that had been posted by someone who probably recognized both of them.
"Ale". alba said calling out her older sister showing her the photo on her phone.alexia had grabbed her phone after noticing it was a picture of her and jenni.
She was honestly over it and shut the phone off it wouldn't be the first time that fans couldn't respect there privacy but what could she do nothing really.
"It all right alba it doesn't really matter let the internet explode while we enjoy the moments as family". alexia told her sister with a smile.
She could careless it really doesn't matter to her she was going yo have her own family now something that way more important than whatever people think is going on and if something does happen jenni would always be there for her.
A/n: hope y'all enjoy this chapter it feels like longest one I wrote for this series the next one I plan to release is the baby shopping that the anon requested and feel free to send in request or your opinions on the fic which would be helpful thank you for reading
#alexia putellas#jenni hermoso#alexia putellas fluff#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas fic#alexia imagine#jenni hermoso x reader#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso fluff#woso community#fcbfemeni x reader#fcb femini#woso blurbs#fcb femeni x reader#espwnt x reader#espwnt imagine#barca femini x reader#alexia putellas x y/n#alexia x reader#alexia x jenni#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x jenni hermoso#alexia putellas x reader fluff#alexia putellas x imagine#jenni hermoso imagine#hidden secrets by pinkyqil#alba putellas#woso
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melodies | 1.0
summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that.
wc: 3.1k
warnings: none this time around!
a/n: hi babies! I disappeared again but I swear I'm here! I won't lie to you all, I lost momentum for a bit but my dear love @gurugirl gave me the idea of repurposing my jjk fics for Harry! so this is my first attempt at that. I hope you all enjoy!
Harry had been renovating his new estate for about a year now. Deciding on only the best of the best, but when it came to musical items that he wanted placed variously around his house; he wanted something more lived in. More story holding. Something that looks like it had been used and loved by many. That’s where he found you and your little shop “Encore Records” in the heart of downtown.
He wanted a grand piano, but he didn't just want any grand piano. He wanted the grand piano you had on display in your store. The one your grandfather left to you from his touring days. Your grandfather was a traveling artist, carting this piano around to every city, every country. It’d been more places than you. It sat dead center in your shop, surrounded by records, plants and various instruments customers could test out before placing orders. The only thing unavailable to order was the piano. It served as a centerpiece that you played fairly often, especially while customers perused the store and Ellie ran the cash register.
Harry had been stopping in probably two or three times a week to try talking you into selling him the piano for his home; not taking no for an answer. Sometimes Ellie would have to fend him off while you were working in the back. Ellie would then always dash to the back to tell you what happened before another customer would walk in.
“That big mafia guy was in here again!” she says, tapping you on the shoulder.
“Huh?” you ask, pulling one of your earbuds out., slightly startled from the touch.
“You know, the tall darkhaired one who’s hot as fuck, and defintely thinks the same about you,” Ellie says, motioning to your frame, giggling at your disgusted look. “The one with the huge hands,” she winked at you.
“Ellie, he wants the piano, not me.”
“Girl, he wants both.” she chuckles, “You’re allowed to be proud of yourself,” and she's leaving you alone. Proud of yourself for what? For some Yakuza man coming into your store every day, possibly scaring off possible customers? Not everyone wants to come in here when there’s a guy with a gun strapped to his chest, followed by three other men who are also armed.
He’d offered you millions of dollars in return for the piano, but no amount of money could replace the memories you have sitting with your grandfather at this piano every night while he taught you how to play. Or the nights you’d gotten to be with him on tour and see him on stage sitting at the damn thing every night. There was no way you were going to give it up. But there was no way he was going to give up either.
It was a rainy Tuesday the next time Harry decided to come in. Another attempt at your piano, but today something in him changed.
Walking in, Harry notices you’d just opened so there weren't any customers yet. You still haven't fixed the doorbell either, another thing he’ll have to chastise you for today. He hears you before he sees you, singing along with the radio playing Forever Young by Rod Stewart through the speakers of your store, as you stand behind the counter on a step ladder rearranging the wall of weekly favorites.
“And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true..”
Harry can’t believe his ears; the angelic timbre of your voice and how it just rolls right off of your tongue so effortlessly.
“And do unto others
As you'd have done to you..”
He could listen to you all day long. In fact, he just might. He takes a seat on the piano bench, and just listens.
“Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young”
Once the song is over, you turn on the stool to grab something behind you, and you're startled by Harry’s presence.
“Jesus, Styles. Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?” you nearly fall off of the ladder,
“On a business’ door? No.” he smirks at you. “Didn’t anyone tell you to fix your doorbell? Pretty sure I did last week. And the week before that,” Harry counts on his fingers, scolding you, “I’ll just have someone come do it for you.” He snaps his fingers, pointing at the man standing on his right. A tall, broad man with blonde hair. He smiles as he pulls his phone from inside his jacket.
“No, no Styles. Boundaries, remember?” you watch as he strides over to you, offering you his hand to help you off the ladder, but you ignore his gesture; placing your hands on the back of the ladder, stepping down, and turning to face him.
“Birdie, I’m not taking no for an answer. Your safety is at risk, and that’s not okay.” He retorts, the blonde haired man already returning from making the phone call. He looks to Harry, giving him a singular nod, to which Harry nods back. “Repair man will be here soon.”
“Why do you even care? If I died, you could probably get a good deal on the piano.” your eyes involuntarily roll, “And I told you Birdie is reserved for my friends and those fortunate enough to see me naked, and you are neither of those things. Nor are you buying my piano.” Your hands are planted firmly on your hips as the words leave you.
Birdie was a nickname your grandfather gave you when you were young. Always running about singing like a bird. He’d scoop you up and you’d squeal, making him laugh with you. You were just a little birdie that wanted to sing her heart out. It’s what your mother wanted before she passed away. This store was your way of honoring your mother and your grandfather. They both instilled your love of music into you.
Mom loved singing karaoke anywhere she could; praying she’d get recognized by someone who saw potential in her. And oh boy, did she. But she had you and you were her main priority and nobody could deal with that when she’d mentioned she had a daughter to the talent agents. Her heart was broken but watching you grow up was what she really enjoyed. She just made sure you had the same love for music as she did.
“Ouch, you don’t see me as a friend yet? I practically come to see you every day.” he trails his fingertips up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Plus, if you were to die, I wouldn't be able to ask you to sing to me every day.”
“You weren’t supposed to hear that. Nobody was,” you mutter. Nobody had heard you sing since before your grandfather passed away. He always begged you to go on tour with him and sing some of his songs with him but you always doubted your ability.
“Well, maybe if your doorbell was working, you could have stopped before I did.” The cocky man stands before you, hands in his pockets as he retracts them.
“Do you like hearing the sound of your own voice? Wouldn’t you rather listen to music?”
“Mm, sometimes. But the only music I want to hear is your voice telling me “I love you” for the rest of my life.”
“Fat chance, Mr. Mafia man. Now, if you’re not here for anything other than to bother me about my doorbell and my piano, please leave.” your hands make haste to wipe the counter off before you lean back on the ladder.
“What about a date?” you nearly choke on your own oxygen at his question.
“I’m sorry?” you giggle your response, unable to believe what he’d just said. Maybe Ellie was right.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he chuckles, “I’ll repeat it for you. I’d like to take you out on a date, Birdie.”
“Sty–”
“Harry. I’ve told you to call me Harry.” You don't miss the way his men behind him offer each other uneasy glances. He must not let anyone refer to him by his first name, and you’re not about to start either.
“Styles, that’s not going to happen.”
“You wound me some more,” he dramatically clutches his chest, “I’ll change your mind one day.. Just watch,” he says as he makes his way to the door, his men leaving before he does. “Have a good day, Birdie. See you tomorrow.”
You’re staring into space as he leaves, thinking of the extravagant date he’d probably take you on. He’d probably be able to give you the Pretty Woman moment you’ve always dreamed of. The heels, the long red dress, the lipstick to perfectly match and the updo hairstyle to tie it all together. Harry would probably make the best Edward Lewis in your life. But you’d never admit that out loud.
An unknown amount of time passes before you’re startled again; Ellie’s voice snaps you out of it. “Helloooo, Earth to Y/N!” she snaps her fingers in front of your face.
“Shit, sorry. I was stuck, haha,” you rub your eyes before looking at her face and offering her a smile. She hands you the coffee she had hid under her arm before tucking her belongings under the counter. You went back up the step ladder after grabbing the dust rag you’d gone looking for before you were so graciously interrupted by Harry. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Why did Mafia man just tell me you agreed to go on a date with him?”
“Huh?” you quickly turn to face her on the ladder, the legs wobbling under your jerking movements.
“He walked by me on my way up the sidewalk saying he finally got you to agree to a date and that I owed him the hundred bucks we bet on.”
“HUH?” nearly losing your footing for the second time today, you make your way down the ladder.
“Why are you acting like you don't know what I'm talking about?” she eyes you quizzically.
“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about! What bet?” your hands find your hips again.
“Why are you more interested in my wrong doings? He’s out here lying about you!” Ellie waves her hands back and forth, feigning innocence.
“And my best friend is betting against me!”
“Semantics! C’mon, y’know I'm not actually going to pay him. He’s got more money than any one person knows what to do with.”
“That’s not the point, Ellie. You bet against me! How could you?” you toss the dust rag at her, feigning annoyance.
“Because I see the way you look at him when he’s here!” she tosses it back at you.
“Ellie, he’s literally a yakuza. I can’t entangle myself in that, whether I like him or not,” you’d love to just let him spend a night with you but, a night with him is a night with five other people that go everywhere with him.
“Birdie, you have to live a little. Enjoy the thrill. Plus, he’d probably keep you so safe.”
“While simultaneously putting me in the most danger I've ever been in.
“Okay, but the one with the double buns on top of his head is hot and I want that one so i need you to take one for the team and go on a date with this man.”
“Is that your part of some deal you made?” you jokingly accuse her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, just go on a date with him.”
“You go on a date with him,” you huff and you leave her up front. To which it only lasts about fifteen minutes before she’s coming into the back room telling you some random guy is there fixing the doorbell and isn't taking ‘no’ for an answer..
You just roll your eyes.
Ellie just wants you to be happy, no matter the cost. And you think maybe she’s not weighing the cost as much as you are. Sure, you’d be under protection at all times but the fact that the protection needs to be there at all times means you’re in just as much danger. Which does not totally sit right with you, but he is very persistent. And fairly beautiful. But you have to think with your brain and not your vagina for once.
A few hours later, you’re rearranging the Pop section of records when the phone rings. Ellie picks up with her normal “Encore Records, this is Ellie,” a few seconds pass before you hear her speak again. “Hm, let me ask real fast she’s right here. Hey, Birdie, do you have a piano lesson available tonight at 6?”
“Humm, I think so, check in my calendar. Take it if I do, please!” you go back to putting the Ariana Grande records in order by year. You hear Ellie laugh with the customer on the phone before she hangs up, thanking them for their business. “So do I have a piano lesson at 6 now?”
“Yeah, said his son's name was Niall and that he had been hounding him to learn piano from the lady at the big CD store.”
“His son sounds adorable! I’m looking forward to teaching him.” you smile at the thought.
“You just like the ego boost,” Ellie side eyes you with a laugh.
“You should try shutting up,” you chuckle, going back to arranging your floor inventory; moving to the Metal section.
Six rolls around and you’re pulling the sheet music you have for teaching beginners around on the stand. Ellie makes her way up front to gather her things, reaching under the counter and turning the lights down.
A huff leaves you, “Hey, I still have that piano lesson tonight.”
“I know,” she gives you a look, “Have the best time, Birdie, and she’s out the door.” Uh, okay?
Right after Ellie leaves, the doorbell sounds again and you turn to be met with Harry.
“Styles, I have a piano less–,” you pause, “There is no piano lesson for a boy named Nial is there?”
“He’s Niall,” Harry motions behind him to the man who called about your doorbell earlier. “And I’m the one who’s here for the lesson.”
Seated at the bench next to him, you can't believe you’re actually going through with this. But if he hadn’t put a deposit down over the phone, you wouldn't have. Clearly Harry and Ellie had cooked this scheme up somehow. You almost appreciate the effort.
“You don’t seem to need a lesson,” you remark, watching him mimic your motions without even trying.
“Would you be upset with me if I said I didn't?” He starts playing Forever Young on the piano, making your eyes widen.
“Not upset, confused,” your eyes are glued to his hands, fingers flowing effortlessly over the keys.
“Just wanted an excuse to talk to you for longer than a few minutes.” Harry’s hands keep up the melody.
“You’re not going to let this up are you?” your eyes roll for the millionth time because of this man. He has a way of making your skin crawl in a good way. But again that’s something you’d never admit;
“After I heard that singing voice? Never,” he smiles over at you, continuing to play the song on the keys. “Will you show it to me again? Please, Birdie?”
“If I say yes will you stop asking to buy my grandfather's piano?” fat chance, but you’ll try anyway.
“Scouts honor,” he winks. Huh? That easy? “Or is he just that in love with you?” You can hear Ellie say in your head. Shut up.
As you begin singing along with his playing, Harry’s smile grows in size. His hands and arms move effortlessly across the piano, fully impressing you as you watch in awe. The words flow out of you like they did earlier today.
Once you finish, Harry looks at you like you just told him he’d won the lottery. Not that he needed to win the lottery. “You really have such an amazing voice,” he breathes out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“I’d call it a good harmonizing voice,” you chuckle. “I sound better with the radio.”
“I’m sorry, was I the only one with ears for the last three minutes? Mitch? Niall?” he makes you chuckle next to him as he turns to the men behind him
“I heard it Sir,” they both said in unison.
“And how did she sound?”
“Lovely, sir.” Niall says, looking over to you with a friendly smile.
“I have to agree with Niall,” Mitch says, without a smile. He seems to be more of a hardass than the other one.
“Ah, so you are the delusional one here,” Harry turns his attention back to you.
“Shut up. Lesson’s over,” you laugh.
“Aw, but I was just getting started. How about a date then? We can take the rest of this time somewhere else.”
“You would love that wouldn’t you?” leaves you in the form of a laugh.
“Certainly. Cmon, Y/N. I know the best place down the road. Whadya say?”
“I say you’re dreaming,” you stand from the piano bench. Walking over to the light switch, you turn the lights all the way up, making everyone wince at the sight. “And now it's time to wake up, Styles.”
“I’ll make it so worth your while. Please, just once chance, That’s all I’m asking for,” he stands and makes his way over to you. “Please, Birdie.” he runs his thumb over your cheek, you lean into the touch before you realize what you’re doing.
“If I say yes and I have a horrible time, can I reserve the right to ask you to leave me alone permanently?”
“Of course. I’d swear on it to never show my face in here again. But I promise we won’t have to worry about that. So tonight then?”
“Not tonight, how about tomorrow? After I close for the night?’
“It’s a date,” He smiles. “I’ll pick you up,”
“You mean you’ll all pick me up?” you motion to the guys behind him.
“Nah,” he shakes his head. “They’ll be around, but not with us. I want you to be comfortable.”
“Maybe you should have started with leaving them outside then,” you roll your eyes, “No offense, boys,”
“None taken,” they say in unison again. Harry snaps his fingers and the men leave.
“You didn’t have to do that,” a chuckle leaves you again. You head for the door but Harry softly grabs your arm.
“Leave em, I’m heading out anyways, he slides his grip down your arm until he’s holding your hand, offering a kiss to your knuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Birdie. He kisses your hand once again, turning to leave.
“B-bye, Styles.”
“Harry,”
“If you impress me, then maybe.”
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry edward styles#harry styles fic
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Letters Never Sent (Yandere Malleus x Reader)
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A letter wrote by Malleus Draconia, never sent to the object of his desires. Why don't you open it up and see what's inside...
masterlist
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Dear My Child of Man,
I am writing this letter with no intention of you receiving it.
Maybe this is "silly" as you would describe it, but I find myself slowly losing the restraint on my emotions as the days go by. My heart fills with unfamiliar feelings as I think of you, mixing together into an ever present sense of desire that makes me near shameful.
I find myself thinking of you always, from the moment I wake, to the moment I fall asleep. You seep your way into my dreams, where for but a moment I can relish in the fantasy that is you. I dream of your soft voice, your comforting gaze, your addicting presence. You are so captivating that I often forget I'm dreaming, until I awake with an aching feeling I've come to know as longing.
I long for you, I've learned.
I long for your voice, for your gaze, for your presence. I long for every essence of your being to be directed towards me. Some may call me a fool, scoff my way and paint me a madman, but I am nothing without my love for you, so it bothers me none. I often wonder if you think of me as intensely as I do you. I have to admit it is exciting, the mere thought of you reciprocating my feelings warms me so. It is intoxicating, even as a fantasy, simply imagining a life with you is enough for me. Somedays, I imagine gifting you with an unending dream, one where it is just us, away from the rest of the world. Away from duty, and work, and anything else that could distract us from each other, from our love. We would be together and we would be happy until the end of your days, and even after you're gone, I would continue loving you.
You were always so opposed to the idea, immortality. I remember the look on your face when you realized just how long I had lived, the sadness, the remorse, the pain. At that moment, it was not something I feared, more accurately not something I thought much about. It was not until I met you that it dawned upon me that at some point, you would leave this world, and that it would keep moving. Time would progress, people would grieve, but they would move on, plants would sprout and grow and wilt and eventually grow again, but I would remain stuck. Stuck with my dreams and fantasies. Stuck with the memory of you so present it would be like you never left in the first place.
Even now, I fear what the world would be like without you. Not much fills me with fear, my Child of Man, but I've found myself scared lately. The thought of you leaving, of going back to your home, and never returning scares me. It is almost comical in a way, I find myself dreading the thought even while writing this. You should be proud, how easily you are able to terrify me is an excellent skill, one many would love to possess.
You were my first true friend, did you know that? I have Lilia and Silver and Sebek, but I've always been treated as above them, as something untouchable. You were the first person to treat me like an equal, to bless me with the wonderful feeling of friendship. I often find myself racked with guilt, why should I desire more from you when you've already given me so much already? It is selfish, to seek out your love so desperately when I've already taken so much from you. You are my friend, and I should value our friendship above all.
But that is why I fear, because my love for you goes beyond the boundaries of friendship. I would even say it goes beyond the boundaries of love. It is a longing so deep I wonder if I'll ever be the same again, all while knowing that I am too engrossed in the feeling that is you to ever go back. A longing so deep I yearn with desire unexplainable to man, desire so profound and raw that I am sure you have changed something within me. A longing so deep the closest word to describe it is obsession, but even obsession doesn't explain the hundreds of letters, all unset, pilling away, all centering you.
Fear, love, what do distinctions matter if every single one of my thoughts center you.
I have no desire to send this letter, my Child of Man, but I hope with every meeting, every passing day, every time we are together, you are able to feel the love I hold for you. I hope my longing, my devotion, my never ending, boundless obsession is clear to you, my love.
Because I fear what will happen when I run out of paper.
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A/n: here's to me hoping that this will break my writers block.
#yandere x reader#soft yandere#platonic yandere#twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst malleus#twst x reader#yandere twst#twst
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Surprise, Surprise
a/n: I had this mostly written in my drafts before Bi!Buck actually became canon and wanted to finish it, so enjoy <3 (18+ ONLY)
Warnings: pregnant reader, fluff (whoa! Cali writes fluff? Don’t get used to it 😉)
“Is y/n feeling okay?”
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
“Because she looks - Well she looks a little-“
“Hot.” Maddie said.
“Yeah that,” Chim agreed while pointing to Maddie.
“Hot?” Buck asked furrowing his brow.
“As in sexy. Foxy. Hot!” Maddie said very bluntly that even had her husband looking at her. Athena and Hen scurried to the three at the kitchen island to join in,
“You guys talking about Y/n?” Hen asked.
“I don’t mean to be suggestive as I am a woman of class, but whatever you’re doing Buck, keep doing it,” Athena nodded as she raised her glass to the gals.
“It’s not that she wasn’t THAT before now, but we haven’t seen her in a while and she looks and even feels different. I can feel her vibe from here,” Hen said as she playfully grasped at the air in your direction.
“Uh, heh, yeah. I guess things are a little different,” Buck said while looking back at you sweetly,
“Uh, I mean, things are good! Great even! That’s why you guys are here. We wanted to see everyone in one room for once,” Buck smiled, “so glad you’re all here.” Buck sipped on his beer before his foot got stuck any further down his throat.
The get together was in full swing when you went and grabbed the extra bag of ice from the freezer. Buck saw you out of the corner of his eye and practically flew out of his pants rushing over to you. Eddie saw the interaction from across the room and squinted his eyebrows in his chismoso ways. He migrated to the group by the counter with a full on detective look on his face,
“Y’all saw that, right?”
“You mean the way Buck Scooby-Doo’ed his way out of his seat to help a grown woman carry 10 pounds of ice? Yeah.” Hen confirmed. All heads turned to Eddie waiting for an explanation.
“Why are you looking at me?”
“You’re his best friend,” Maddie said matter of factly.
“You’re his sister,” Eddie mocked back.
“I mean it would explain the changes we all see,” Hen shrugged her shoulders.
“The glowing skin, thicker hair, filled out in the appropriate places…” Athena drifted off.
“The cravings, the mood swings, the crying…” Chimney chimed in. Now all heads swifted his way,
“I saw her last Thursday-
“Chimney!”
“Dude!”
“What!? I wasn’t paying attention to anything except the safety and well being of my Jiyung. But it does make a little more sense now…”
They stared on as Buck kissed you on your forehead and took the ice to the cooler. Bobby rounded the corner in the backyard and made his way over to you, giving you the biggest hug. The group realizes he’s pointing to Buck a lot and using grand gestures,
“Think he knows something?” Hen asked Athena who just looked on. Bobby went to head inside when he spotted the gathering at the counter and immediately stopped in his tracks to turn the other way.
“He knows!” Eddie said has he raced around the counter, beating Bobby to bathroom,
“Hey Cap! What’s up?”
“What’s up, Eddie?”
“Nothin. Just hangin out, you know,” he said with a big smile and deep eye contact trying to read his Captain.
Feeling awkward,
“Alright well, I’m gonna..” Bobby said as he motioned to the bathroom.
“Yeah, man! For sure! We’ll be right out here!” Eddie walked back to the island.
“He’s not coming out,” Chimney said, “Do you think that’s why everyone’s here? So they can tell us all?”
“I guess we’ll find out, but we can’t in good conscience harass Bobby into telling us,” Athena said as she was the first to walk off.
The party went on for another hour or so when Buck called the attention of everyone,
“Y/N and I would first like to start off by thanking you all for being here. It means a lot to us that we can see the people we love and care about all together and creating memories. That’s why today is so special. Uh, it has come to my attention that some of you may be guessing…” he said as he turned his attention to his family and they turned to Bobby who kept his eyes wide and trained forward,
“My wife and I have created our true dream life and forever team. We’ve been through so much together and have been privileged to have had all of you by our side along the way. Which is why we are-words can’t even describe this feeling, but we are beyond blessed to announce that we are expecting our first child-”
The party erupted in cheer and Bobby let out a sigh of relief before joining in on the applause. Buck never got to finish his speech before parents were coming up to you both and giving hugs.
“You knew?” Athena asked Bobby.
“For 3 weeks now. He said he needed to tell someone but knew it was too early to tell everyone.”
“Ohh, so in the end you just respecting Buck’s wishes?” She delivered with a playful side eye.
“Exactly,” he said leaning down to kiss her forehead and pull her in.
#evan buckley x black!reader#evan buckley imagine#evan buckley#buck 911#eddie 911#911 on abc#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley fluff#911 imagine#eddie diaz 911#eddie diaz#gay firefighter show#bi!buck
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Day 4
Seires Fic Rec part 14
Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis - (Queer Your Coffee) - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 3,084, sterek)
Derek's just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.
For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.
Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he's worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.
He's the most beautiful man Derek's ever seen.
And he’s shirtless.
It's a Beautiful Night by khasael - (Hale and Hearty) - (Rating: T, Words: 2,887, sterek)
Just because they're all almost used to fighting against the Creature of the Week and assorted other Bad Guys, doesn't mean it doesn't get Stiles's heart rate going.
Dream a Little Dream by Yoiko - (A Little Dream of Me ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,101, sterek)
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. And since this is my dream you’re going to let me do it.”
All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man. by devilscut - (There are nights when the wolves are silent and the moon howls.) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 11,687, sterek)
A shell-shocked Stiles regroups with the pack to find his father who has been kidnapped by the Darach. Their search leads them to the Nematon, where their confrontation with the Darach reveals her plans and that there is more to being a True Alpha than they know. Derek and his family's legacy is at the heart of her schemes and when the Darach has him under her control Stiles begins to realise the extent of how much he really cares for the sourwolf. In true Scooby-doo fashion, the villain has told them of her plans but more shockingly to Stiles she also reveals a very important aspect of his and Derek's relationship.
The virtue of patience by nofeartina - (Patience) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,827, sterek)
Stiles isn't afraid of admitting his feelings to Derek, but that doesn't mean that Derek wants to hear it.
Or the one where Stiles knows that all good things come to those who wait.
I Feel Like You Can't Feel the Way I Feel by i_might_be_in_over_my_head - ( Einherjar MC ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 14,087, sterek)
“Fuckin A, dude! The last time you gave me that look I ended up in the woods in the middle of the night, lost my inhaler, and almost died. Please tell me why you’re always trying to get me killed?” Scott shook his head resigned. He knew Stiles was going in and nothing he could say would change that. “If we wake up dead tomorrow just remember this was your idea.”
Stiles threw his fist in the air enthusiastically, almost punching Scott in the face, and turned to the door. He knew if he didn’t go quick Scott would probably change his mind and he’d have to start all over. “Dude that was sophomore year of high school, let it go! Plus dead body! We had to go. We’ll just have a drink and check it out. It’ll be fun!”
fingertips have memories by thatworldinverted - (let's talk about sex ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,800, sterek)
Pochemuchka (Russian), noun: a person who asks a lot of questions.
"I saw the way you watched me, when I was home last month. How long have you been dreaming about getting me on my knees?"
seems to me it's chemistry by HalfFizzbin - (covalent bonds) - (Rating: T, Words: 4,153, sterek)
Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.
These next two fics go hand in hand. 😇
The One with All the Kids by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 6,527, sterek)
Derek didn't know what he did to deserve to have this again. A house full of people, of family. He's going to be forever grateful to that rouge witch for what she did for him and Stiles, because after all the hurt they went through together, many years later, they're standing in the Pack house, in their house, surrounded by their family.
A New Hale by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 4,543, sterek)
The Pack meets the werewolf cub that Stiles and Derek gets placed with them on Christmas.
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I have this scene in a Gortash Lives And Gets Dragged Through Redemption AU I keep thinking about. It has my durge Clira and Gortash laying in bed, before they reconcile fully so they're like a foot and a half apart. Clira is trying to sleep, finding herself comforted by Gortash's presence as she's asking him to tell her stories she doesn't remember. I thought I might share it, in case anyone likes it
The sun hasn't set yet, casting the room in a gently, golden light as Gortash tells her of their history, of little things she can't remember - "Your hair used to be longer. You hated people touching it. For a long time only Sceleritas was allowed to brush and trim it for you." - as well as filling in the memories that were hazy.
He tells her how they worked together, what they explored together. Of lovers she had, kills she made - "Remember Nathaniel? You liked him. You thought he was beautiful and sweet. You even mourned him." - and she has found that she easily falls asleep to the gentle sound of his voice.
Just before she falls asleep she asks him for one last memory.
"Tell me something about you that I've forgotten," she says, mumbling just a little. Her eyes are already closed, her breathing slow. He knows she'll fall asleep soon, and he doesn't think he's welcome in her bed after that. Not yet.
His dark eyes look at her, but his mind is searching for something to say. It is difficult, not because he can't think of anything lost to her but because she's asking him to open up once more. It took a long time for him to do so the first time alone.
"… when I was a child I would make small sculptures and gadgets out of scraps I found," he begins. "I would sell them for coin that I hid from my parents. I would use it for food, toys and sometimes even to go to the circus. I had found a bird's nest that I used to look in to see if the clever animal had found something shiny."
Clira smiles gently, but she doesn't say anything. He's not sure she hears him, if she's half-asleep or not, but he has no reason to stop yet.
"I told you about that once. You didn't seem to understand. I wasn't sure what it was that eluded you. My motives, my craft or perhaps even a lack of understanding about avian habits," he chuckles a bit. Her face had been so expressionless back then. It was difficult to understand her at the best of times. Very different from now, with her smiles coming frequent and easy.
A welcome change, he will admit.
"Of course, after I told you this I found a birds nest at my windowsill. I found it odd, especially since it was not even nesting season. But after that I found little things in there. Pieces of metal. Bits of rope. A bloodied arrowhead once. By the time I received a broken dagger, far too heavy for a bird to carry, I knew it was no feathery friend I had to thank for these gifts."
Soft, steady breathing fills the room as he stops for a moment. With a sigh he carefully rolls off to the side and stands up, straightening his clothes as he stays for a moment. Just a moment, he's allowed that isn't he?
"I made a little bird out of the scraps, small enough to pin to a piece of clothing, and laid it back into the nest." An exhale, a whisper of a laugh. "You wouldn't stop blushing when you noticed me staring at it as it sat on your coat next time we saw each other. I didn't need words to tease you."
He walks over to her side of the bed to pull the curtains across the window, reducing the little light that was left filtering into the room to darkness.
Then he hesitates, raises two fingers to his mouth. He lifts a quick kiss from his lips, and places it gently to her cheek.
"Sleep well, little magpie," he says before leaving the room
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Hello! Want to double check that I've done a decent job of avoiding disfiguremisia, and try to turn it into great counter to hatred instead of just an okay one.
Preface: I have a form of memory loss and likely brain damage so I cannot always phrase things clearly although I will try my best.
Personally I do not feel happy reading escapist stories as that happy ending is not achievable for real people. We don't get to live in a place that's completely safe and free from judgement. I'd like to write people in a hostile world who find love and safety and community, however this does necessite writing hostility. I want to make sure I'm doing so with care.
I would like to make sure that the hostility written as tension does not tar how I write how one of the main characters. He should be written with dignity and respect even when he is not being treated well by those around him.
One of my characters is blind and develops severe burn scars. He wears a blindfold to help with photophobia and sensory overwhelm, but takes it off when its dim. (CVI plus autism.)
While he does wear a cloth coverings in public due to ugly laws, he views it as a ridiculous requirement and happily removes this mask when with friends. He also enjoys that being visibly strange or somewhat unnerving to most people means that shallow people who judge by appearances avoid him.
Question: what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia? I have him being content with his face as it tells a story of his life and he's a blunt, forward person, not covering his face for most of the story despite laws necessitating that he do so, and a few other things too (and many side characters with facial differences and deformities also).
Also none of the central plotlines centre around facial difference. He's joining a servant rebellion, befriending a bitter exile intent on status at all costs, and discovering the truth of history. (Also a mind controlling octopus being is involved and a semi sentient moon amalgam thing but don't worry about it everything's fine.)
I think later books will be a more effective counter due to lack of ugly laws and him finding a lovely interest. I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world. I want his happy ending to feel real.
I respect the hell out of escapist fantasies it's just that they do nothing for me personally. I really want to write someone dealing with a lot - more than I ever have - and coming out the other end happy. Yes this world is hostile and will judge me but I can find joy despite it all. Some say the world is universally cruel but I have not found this to be the case. It is wise to be wary but myself and friends can create small sections of time and space where no precautions are necessary. Am I not part of the world? Are not they? The world is not universally cruel as long as I and those I treasure live in and we are not extraordinary, simply uncommon, and what is uncommon is still a great bounty. (Something to that effect.)
I'm set on what I want to write but the specifics I'm more than happy to change in order to bring joy. Do you have ideas on how I can do this full idea full justice?
Hello,
before getting to your actual ask, I have a "few" questions about the premise of the story itself.
You mention that you don't like escapist fantasies - that's fair. Taste differs; you can write whatever and that's great. But I do find the insistence to write a story about a specific type of discrimination as an outsider rather strange.
If you want to have facial difference representation, I assume you want to have readers with facial differences, correct? I mean, I don't think that many able-bodied people would be too interested in it specifically considering most don't know what it is. So okay, this is supposed to be a story of characters with facial differences overcoming centuries worth of hatred and all that. Arguably more, considering that disfiguremisia and ableism go all the way back to Biblical times.
Why are you the person who needs to tell this story?
Just as people with facial differences are readers, we can be authors as well. We tell our stories. I will take an #OwnVoices book over a one that isn't that any day, and this fact will influence the rest of this answer. I'm a firm believer in #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs and all when it comes to this stuff.
Have you talked to people with facial differences who would be interested in the kind of story you want to tell? Do you know what they want to see from an author that's not taking it from their own experience? I don't count here, because as I made clear before, I'm not and won't be interested in it. I also don't know anyone in the community who has ever said "I wish more people without our experiences wrote about how hard it is to be us!". You need to make sure there are people who want this.
So, have, or will you, reach out to those that could like it? Sensitivity readers, random people online who like to read about disfiguremisia in their free time, advocates who work on media-centric problems? Anyone who would enjoy it is automatically a better candidate to help than me. I'm too jaded, I suppose.
If you want to talk about people with facial differences in such detail and setting, you need to get to know us. One guy with a specific set of opinions from a blog on Tumblr isn't that (thank god), but I guess I can serve as a reminder that not everyone will be excited to read a book that represents them in some way. We still have preferences.
To write it, you need to involve yourself in the community, start actually spreading activism about our issues. Preach about Face Equality and celebrate when our once-a-year week happens in May. See what disfiguremisia causes. Share our efforts to get all the problematic garbage off the big screen. Read our stories. Understand us as people who are incredibly diverse, and that not all of us like to be described as strange or unnerving.
If you only want to talk about our suffering as some quota to fill on a "types of discrimination" list, it will always be flat and inauthentic, and if you don't put in the effort it's pointless. We don't want tragedy porn, and we don't need to be included in every story about struggles that just wants some brand-new type of bigotry in it. We want authors who care about us, the living and breathing people. And sometimes it might mean respecting our opinions on writing disfiguremisia.
Here is a great post by @writingwithcolor explaining the effects of tragedy exploitation. Not everything there applies, but I would consider it a very valuable read.
If you think about all this, and decide that you are ready to write such a heavy, community-based story, go ahead to...
Actual Answers! Hooray
what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia?
Sympathize with him. Disfiguremisia is a tragedy, it's brutal and it hurts. It's traumatic and impossible to forget, even if it wasn't happening constantly just to remind us that it's still there. On this note, I would recommend you research writing characters with PTSD.
Have him think about it. Sometimes I get home after getting stared down on the street and just want to yell. You don't forget a microaggression or a hate crime after five minutes. Let him vent and let him be upset. He can have flashbacks or recall similar situations that happened in the past.
I'm glad that he's aware of disfiguremisia unlike a ton of characters who are somehow always unable to figure out that it's a problem. If the ableism he's facing is so systemic and severe, individual people will be even more extreme. You can have him remember that the shop owner was a slur-spitting bigot, or that his neighbors avoid even talking to him. I want him to call them out - in retrospective, at the moment, in his head, whatever - on what they're doing. Throw a "not this fucking thing again" or something in there.
The minimum is to make him feel like a human with an internal thought process, who is able to actually experience what's happening to him, and for it to have long-term effects.
Also, outside of the whole disfiguremisia thing and me being overdramatic, check out our #blindness tag, and research burn scar care. If you don't show the boring and mundane, it will only feel closer to tragedy porn; just a sad thing one after another.
I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world.
This I think is the part of the ask that made me the saddest, and not because of what you wrote. I tried to think of achievable ways; ways that we did it, tried to do it, and are doing it, and one-by-one I crossed them out as "didn't work", "no one cared enough" or "kinda worked but honestly, it didn't". Face Equality is basically non-existent, not matter how much it hurts me to admit it! We are trying our best, and it doesn't work. It's just plain hard for me to come up with suggestions for this.
In fiction, I suppose that personal resistance is the way when it comes to this. I don't think there are feasible systemic changes that could happen that don't border on magical thinking or get into the "singular glorious revolution that somehow fixes everything and everyone lived happy ever after. We fixed racism, yay!". This just sucks.He could try to educate the people who are willing to listen - that's somewhat what I'm trying to pull off here on this blog, I guess. Sometimes it works, often it doesn't, but in his situation it wouldn't hurt to try.
The fundamental part here will be whether your character is able to find a way to make the ordinary person care in the end. To me, society who still hates us just as much, with a small group that thinks we're okay isn't a happy ending. The opposite, rather. It's cold and isolating to know only your friends could value you as a human being, and downright sad to imply that we should be happy for that. I don't mean that everyone should love us in every story, but there's a difference between The Ableism being represented by an antagonist or two versus the entire world except for the main characters.
If you decide to go forward with this story, I do hope your other readers with facial differences enjoy it!
mod Sasza
[This ask was submitted before my announcement of not taking questions regarding this subject matter. As of publishing this, it still applies.]
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Pairing:Adam x Eve
Warnings: Angst,Mention Of Blood And Death
A/N:This occurred to me when I was writing chapter 6 It has nothing to do with the story but I could change my mind 🙊
Clearly I stayed up late and finished it 5:23 and I have to get up at 7:30.
-------------------------<| ♪✿ |>--------------------------
Harmonic Laments
In the Garden of Eden under a tree was the first man.
ADAM
He liked being in this place that brought back so many bad memories or at least he wanted to convince himself that those memories were bad.
Behind the tree was Lute, she was observing her boss from a short distance.She was somewhat curious why he seemed to like coming to this place before each extermination.
It was almost a tradition in which Adam asked her to accompany him to the Garden of Eden hours before the extermination, although she knew that he would prefer to go alone, it was the only condition that had been imposed on him to enter the garden,he always had to be accompanied by someone else.
And somehow she was the closest person to him.
Mostly he would come here to walk for hours in complete silence and then he would sit under that tree and play his guitar,although strangely those melodies were not the ones she was already used to hearing, these melodies were softer and calmer.
It caused her some pain to see her boss when they were in the garden.
He seemed totally different.
He wasn't the usual idiot.
Lute looked at Adam again, trying to examine him.
No doubt he liked this place but why?
It was a very beautiful garden but she couldn't find something that made it special.
Adam began to play a new melody and she recognized it as that beautiful melody that he always played before the extermination or on some occasions when he thought no one was listening.
She didn't know what was so special about that melody that made Adam play it too carefully.
She stayed listening to the soft melody, she hated to admit it but after listening to it so many times she had begun to like it.
Silence
When he stopped playing, a silence formed, maybe she should applaud or congratulate him for being very good, but she wouldn't do it for two reasons.
The first was that it was no secret that his boss had a very high ego and that would only make it worse.
And the second was that once he had given a few applauses and well, Adam had gotten upset saying that he didn't like applause.
So from then on she didn't do or say anything when he finished playing.She knew that what he said was a big lie but she would not investigate further, although she would like to know the reason for his way of being in the garden.
She heard a sigh from her boss and although it had been almost inaudible she had managed to hear clearly.
EVE
So it was because of her, his second wife, everything made sense then but if he said he hated her so much.
why did he seem to miss her?
┉┅━━━━━━ ♫♩ ✾❀✾ ♩♫ ━━━━━━┅┉
Adam had been playing his guitar for some time while sitting under the tree that she liked the most.
A while ago she had gone for a walk so he had taken the opportunity to play,he liked her presence but sometimes he preferred to be alone and she understood.
He finished playing and he heard small applause, he looked up and saw her standing in front of him,the sun illuminated her making her look more beautiful.
Eve smiled at him and he felt his heart melt, without a doubt he loved that smile.
He stood up to approach her, although there was a clear difference in height, every time they were together they could look perfectly into each other's eyes.
He put his arms around her waist and smiled sweetly and lovingly.
She leaned down to kiss his cheek and then put her arms around him, resting her head on his chest.
Adam wanted to keep her by his side forever and let her know that she deserved the best and he was willing to give it to her.
He had kept that special memory forever, even if he wanted to forget it he couldn't or simply didn't want to.
He liked being in the garden because it was the only place where he had been happy and where he could rest from that damn mask he always wore.
Although he denied it, it hurt him that she was no longer by his side and he wanted her to return to him like before as if nothing had happened.
If she asked him, he would forgive her for everything even if she wasn't to blame.
He hated that melody because it was the one she loved the most and caused her the most pain, but he believed that if he stopped playing it he would forget about it.
Just remembering how he played for her and she applauded with a smile made things more difficult
Lute had clapped once and had gotten upset with her even though she knew it wasn't her fault she didn't know anything about that.
He let out a low sigh so Lute won't hear
"EVE"
He thought that with the exterminations he could see her again in hell or make sure that they will not kill her but he had not been able to find her.
Maybe she wasn't even still alive.
He put those thoughts aside and stood up.
The extermination would begin soon and he had to prepare the exorcists.
After all, this time they had not waited a full year to carry out another extermination.
☆゜・。❀。・゜♫♩ ❀❁❀ ♩♫゜・。❀。・゜★☆゜・。
In hell on the roof of the Hazbin Hotel, Eve was looking at the view of hell that the roof offered, although from time to time she looked at the sky.
In a few moments the exorcists would descend to carry out the extermination,everyone in the hotel had been preparing to attack and she was no exception.
She didn't want to do it because her husband was there with the exorcists, so she managed to convince Charlie and support the cannibals.
She didn't want to see him, it had been so long and maybe he would still hate her.
She didn't blame him after all, life was nothing but easy after she bit the apple.
She spent very little time in heaven before she was sent to hell but she had understood that everyone in heaven despised her.
She took her little lyre and began to play a melody that she knew very well and that he always played for her.
Nobody in hell knew who she was, not even the people at the hotel she was almost always with.
Not even Lucifer had recognized her, although it was logical because her appearance had changed a little and they had not seen each other since she ate the apple.
Although she didn't want him to recognize her, even though too much time had passed, she still held a certain resentment and hatred for him.
She decided to go back inside with the others and wait for the time of extermination.
-------------------------<| ♪✿ |>--------------------------
Eve had seen how Adam fought with Alastor and Charlie, she knew she had to help her but something prevented her.
She decided not to intervene and help the others until Lucifer arrived.
Adam had been upset by the comments Lucifer had made about his first and second wives.
Lilith didn't even care but the bastard had dared to talk about Eve and that bothered him too much. He knew she hadn't been with that idiot or so he wanted to believe.
Adam was distracted for a moment when in the distance he saw a woman who looked so much like her and Lucifer took advantage of his distraction to attack him.
Lucifer would have killed him if Charlie hadn't intervened.
-----<| ♪✿ |>-----
Eve had flown with her wings to where the others were, the closer she got she could hear Adam's voice clearly upset.
When she was close, she landed on the ground behind the others and smiled when she saw her husband who had not noticed her presence, there he was just a few steps away from him.
And then something came out of Adam's chest and made him fall
Eve watched in terror as Niffty stabbed him several times and the golden blood came out of her husband's back.
She screamed and ran towards him, not even caring that the others were looking at her in surprise.She didn't know that they were more surprised by her golden wings similar to Adam's or that she was next to him crying.
She carefully turned him around so he was looking at her. Adam looked at the figure in front of him and smiled.
"Eve"
Adam spoke in a small, almost inaudible whisper that managed to reach Lucifer's ears, who tensed instantly. Charlie looked at her father in confusion when she felt him tense and then looked at the scene in front of her.
She couldn't believe what she was seeing, why did she, who had been supporting her with the hotel, have wings similar to Adam's and why did she care about him?
Eve held her husband close to her as she sobbed. It had taken her so long to be with him and it was too late.
"Eve, I'm so sorry for everything that happened and what I said, I could never hate you, you are the most precious thing to me, please don't cry, you know how much I love your smile and I still made you stop smiling."
Eve denied and looked him in the eyes.
"It's my fault, I should have listened to you and stayed away from her, I shouldn't have eaten the fruit, I should have been a better mother to Cain and all our children, I should have looked for you and told you how much I love you, because is it true I love you with all my heart Adam forever"
Eve put her lips together in a soft little kiss full of love, they separated and Adam smiled at her,he had forgotten how much he loved kissing her.
"I love you too Eve more than anything,never forget it"
Adam closed his eyes and Eve hugged him even tighter.
"Adam please don't leave me, stay with me I will return to heaven and we will be together this time I will be a better wife please do not go"
Tears ran down her cheeks as she hugged him close to her chest.
Eve continued to cry on Adam's chest, trying to hear the non-existent beats of his heart.
Lucifer looked at Eve guiltily, she had eaten the apple but he had offered it to her, he never thought about it again and he lived happily with Lilith but she left him, he didn't even know Eve was in hell or he would have looked for her and now it was too late to ask for forgiveness.
#adam x reader#hazbin hotel#adam x eve#lilith morningstar#lucifer morningstar#eve hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lucifer#lilith#helly paradise#flowertunes
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wait u are a genius and i want a full explanation of ur analysis on the florida lyrics w jason
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ FLORIDA!!! + JASON GRACE — AN ANALYSIS BY CYNTHIA
masterlist | rules
on the radio . . . florida!!! (taylor swift ft. florence + the machine)
an THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR ENABLING THIS. jason might be a little ooc in this but that's just me looking deeper into his character (something mr rick riordan failed to do). also obvs im not doing lyrics that repeat twice both times LOL also sorry if this is bad these r all off the top of my head
you can beat the heat if you beat the charges too
they said i was a cheat, i guess it must be true
there are many possible meanings for the first line but im choosing to interpret it like this - you can escape their criticism if you prove them wrong. this, to me, is similar to when jason came back to camp jupiter. when leo (unwillingly) fired against camp jupiter, the romans immediately began attacking. instead of fighting them himself, jason begs them to listen to him and tells them he's on their side (thus trying to beat the charges of being a traitor)
however, it didn't work and he ended up getting a brick thrown at him and passing out - "they said i was a cheat, i guess it must be true" - while taylor's saying cheat as in a cheater (romantic relationships), for jason this refers to the emotional cheating he did on camp jupiter. sure, he didn't want his memory wiped and to be placed in a whole new camp with the greeks, but he liked it, so in a way he did cheat
and my friends all smell like weed or little babies
and this city reeks of driving myself crazy
we all know jason never fit in in camp jupiter. even in his pre-memory loss days, he seemed to stick out like a sore thumb (despite also being their golden child and the son of the camp's namesake). when he comes back to camp jupiter, jason feels even more left out - his friends are all either stuck in the past and incapable of growing and developing ("all smell like weed") or have moved on an extraordinary amount which he cannot keep up with ("or little babies")
as i said above, jason didn't fully merge with his fellow romans. a primary example of this is the fact that he willingly joined the fifth cohort simply to improve it, and im pretty sure he says somewhere he's always been a little more rebellious than the average roman. it also took him a lot of effort to become praetor. coming back to camp jupiter probably brought back all the judgement and criticism he received from the romans - "and this city reeks of driving myself crazy". the verb "reeks" also implies a bad smell, not a good one, so the memories are not a good kind of nostalgia
little did you know your home's really only
a town you're just a guest in
so you work your life away just to pay
for a time-share down in destin
okay so the first part - "little did you know your home's really only / a town you're just a guest in" - again, emphasises how alone and solitary jason feels in camp jupiter. however, i'd like to bring up the fact that percy became praetor within a week (? if not less) of arriving at camp jupiter. praetor is a position which jason grovelled for for ages, only for some random greek guy to be able to replace him after one single quest. why? well, that's simply because the romans saw him as a guest, not a resident of camp or new rome - someone who is temporary and will leave to go somewhere else eventually
jason has been a member of camp jupiter since he was two. he was quite literally working his life away, work is all he ever knew since his childhood was robbed from him so quickly. he worked so hard just to become praetor and so he could make a change and maybe finally fit in with his fellow romans. however, he simply ended up with a timeshare - which (according to google) is "shared ownership of vacation property" - he and percy practically shared the position of praetor, and both saw camp jupiter as somewhere temporary (although jason realised that later on), just like how a vacation home isn't the place you're going to stay in forever
florida
is one hell of a drug
florida
can i use you up?
for jason, florida is camp half-blood. while camp jupiter is orderly and constantly forces him into tight lines, camp half-blood allows him to express himself for who he really is and makes him feel as if he were on cloud nine (similar to how a drug makes you feel when you're high)
however, jason is still hesitant to fully commit to camp half-blood. after all, his father is jupiter, not zeus. could he really be a part of the greeks, or will they see him as foreign too? ("can i use you up?")
the hurricane with my name when it came
i got drunk and i dared it to wash me away
in the song, florence welch is referencing hurricane florence, which caused major damage in south-east of the US. since jason is the son of the god of winds and sky, in a way, all hurricanes have his name since they're all semi-controlled by his father - hurricanes run in his blood. he probably sees himself as the hurricane, causing damage to both others and himself. he most likely feels like the piece of domino which started the chain of disasters he and his friends faced, since his arrival at camp half-blood is what began the second great prophecy (for them)
i'm choosing to interpret "i got drunk" as jason changing once he got introduced to the life and culture of greek demigods. he was no longer perfect, proper praetor jason grace. although it (naturally) took him some time, he became wild and carefree like them, similar to how a drunk person may act. this also ties in with the idea of camp half-blood being like a drug to him. everything about it is addictive, the more he gets, the more he wants
barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine
the bottle of wine here is a symbol for camp half-blood. when jason feels unsafe, he chooses the greek camp over the roman to keep him company.
also, this lyric is reminiscent of the great war - "i drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone" - in which taylor swift isolates herself from everyone else and dwells on the end of her relationship with her ex, which in turn makes her believe they were the bad one in the relationship. similarly, jason is often depicted as thinking about his days at camp jupiter (the few memories he can recall, at least) and from what i can remember it's never really fond. the more he thinks about it, the less camp jupiter feels like home. this reaches a climax in house of hades when he speaks to the god of the southern winds and realises he wants to stay at camp half-blood - he drank his poison and killed any tie he had with camp jupiter
well, me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time
yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine
i think this is pretty self explanatory. growing up in the harsh environment of camp jupiter, jason has killed and witnessed death to the point where he seems desensitised to it. however, jason is soft on the inside. he puts up a facade when he's praetor jason grace, not letting anyone else see how much this affected him - "yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine"
and your cheating husband disappeared, well
no one asks any questions here
i feel like this is him talking to reyna directly (real ones know i am the biggest jeyna shipper so obviously i had to bring them up LMAO). since praetors often end up being in romantic relationships, jason was probably seen by a lot of romans (especially the more traditional ones) as reyna's husband, despite them never even dating
you can sense a bit of snark here as well with "no one asks any questions here" - again, i bring up the fact that the romans were incredibly quick to accept jason's betrayal of camp jupiter, even though he didn't, and reyna siding with them (even though she knows its not true)
a cheating husband is also mentioned in fortnight ("my husband is cheating / i wanna kill him") which i believe is reyna's song but that's a story for another day
so i did my best to lay to rest
all of the bodies that have ever been on my body
and in my mind, they sink into the swamp
is that a bad thing to say in a song?
this is the turning point - the scene in hoh where jason makes the choice between camp jupiter and camp half-blood. he lets go of his past and everyone he knew pre-memory loss ("so i did my best to lay to rest / all of the bodies that have ever been on my body"). please keep the line "i did my best" in mind, as healing isn't a linear process and obviously there were some days where jason wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were
a swamp is described as 'uncultivated', meaning you can't grow any plants in it. similarly, his relationships with the romans will never grow back as "they sink into the swamp"
"is that a bad thing to say in a song?" PURE SASS. he's mocking the ideals of romans but for once doing it without fear. he's saying sure, it might be, but do i care? no 🥰
little did you know your home's really only
the town you'll get arrested
so you pack your life away just to wait out
the shitstorm back in texas
this is once again referencing the fact that jason was exiled from camp jupiter after his 'betrayal', even though he should be the first person they trust in a confusing time like this - discovering there are whole other counterparts of the Gods they know and love. not only because he's praetor (reyna is praetor too, after all), but because he's been at camp for the majority of his life
i need to forget, so take me to florida
i've got some regrets, i'll bury them in florida
tell me im despicable, say it's unforgivable
at least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up florida
again, pretty self explanatory considering the themes of drugs and alcohol i've mentioned above. jason wants to forget (haha very funny cynthia you all say in unison) anything and everything to do with camp jupiter and roman culture, so naturally, he runs to their antithesis - camp half-blood. i like to think if you played a song in his head while he was choosing between cj and chb it'd be this banger of a bridge
however, he still feels guilty. after all, loyalty is a very serious thing for romans. i think reyna tells annabeth something about how if you swear on your life and break that swear, the romans won't hesitate to actually kill you. no matter how much jason tries to pull away from roman culture, some things (like the loyalty) simply run in his blood - "tell me i'm despicable, say it's unforgivable" he wants to be held accountable by anyone, even though he knows his friends on the argo ii are the last people who'd judge him
"fuck me up florida" is jason completely succumbing to everything greek. we all know how the romans look down at greeks (prime examples being the ghosts calling percy graecus as an insult when he arrives and octavian immediately assuming the worst when the argo ii arrived). to the romans, the greeks are lousy and messy, everything they don't want to be. jason has always been this way deep down. he's willing to let the greeks completely fuck him up
love left me like this and i don't want to exist
so take me to florida
love has constantly been bringing jason down. he has a big heart and yet he's lacking so much luck in that department. his relationship with reyna was completely destroyed the moment hera took his memory and put him on that wilderness school bus, and he and piper's relationship has always been awkward, ending in them breaking up and dating someone else while he was left truly alone
here, i don't think chb is florida. however, i don't want to say its elysium because that hurts. so lets just say its a magical place where everything is perfect and he can escape
(take me to) florida
i chose this specific one for the (take me to) bit, which sounds exactly like the "take me to" in the lakes - "take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die"
i don't remember if this was ever mentioned/implied anywhere in the books or if it's something my brain came up with and i accepted as canon, but jason is definitely the type of person who romanticises things he shouldn't. the lakes is one of the the most romantic places in england and is a commonly used date spot
here, jason wants nothing more than to just die peacefully (he is the poet) than have to endure any more pain and misery. what better place to die than in his florida? (i read somewhere that he was buried in cj and nothing makes me wanna kill myself more LMAO)
#jason grace#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#heroes of olympus#jason heroes of olympus#hoo#pjo#jason hoo#taylor swift#ttpd#the tortured poets department#florida!!!#cynwrites
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The first half of Shirabe Meshi chapter 30 is finally out after getting delayed due to the flu
It starts on a stormy night with Carol holding what seems to be the direct feedback system that Elfnein modified to dive into memories
"If I use this, then my memories..."
The next day, everyone is talking about the weather the night before, particularly how much lightning there was. Genjuro jokingly asks Hibiki if her belly button got stolen (referencing a bit of folklore where Raijin will steal your belly button if you don't cover it during a storm).
Hibiki says "Master, please, that would never happen these days! It may have happened to people in the past, but if you wear a belly band, it's totally fine! That's what Dad told me!"
Tomosato: (Don't laugh...)
Fujitaka (I actually feel sorry for her...)
But that particular conversation comes to a close when the Autoscorers run in with Carol in tow. "Master started acting all cute!"
Meanwhile, poor Carol is so confused and scared due to being taken to a "strange place" by a bunch of "weirdos"
The Autoscorers discuss Carol's personality change to which Elfnein comments that it's like how she was when she was younger and her father was alive (Carol: "A girl that looks just like me?!")
Hibiki gets sad because she thinks that Carol burned away her memories after all they've been through together but Fujitaka points out they haven't detected energy great enough for that to be the case.
...Then Elfnein notices Micha's hands.
Her claws are uh...fish now. Apparently Carol got scared of them and transmuted them into something less...sharp.
Genjuro suggests getting her to the infirmary, but him being as big as he is, he scares her, so she starts freaking out and turning everything she can into fish.
Shirabe comes in with onigiri and suggesting a break right in time for them to...also get turned to fish.
Shirabe: "My salmon onigiri turned back into salmon..."
Genjuro: "At this rate we'll all be turned to salmon! We have no choice, we have to use force!"
Carol: "NOOO! SOMEONE HELP ME!"
And so Hibiki's need to protect others kicks in.
"You can't be so forceful with a crying child!" and runs off with her.
Carol: "Um, who are you?"
Hibiki: "I'm Hibiki Tachibana, age 17! My birthday is September 13, my blood type is O, my height is 157 cm, and yeah, maybe I'd LIKE to be a bit taller! I'll tell you my weight once we're better friends! My hobby is helping people and my favorite thing is Miku's food! And when it comes to the whole never having a boyfriend thing, I'm updat--"
Shirabe: "Stop! You're screaming some pretty private stuff in a public area."
Shirabe informs Hibiki that Elfnein and the others are going to investigate the cause, but in the meantime they have orders to calm Carol down, so they decide to give her some new fun memories by taking her to an amusement park
Hibiki goes to get some drinks and comes back to Carol and Shirabe sitting on a bench. Hibiki asks if she's tired, and Carol responds that when she was living her with father, she never knew the world outside of that had so many fun things to do and so many good foods to eat.
So Hibiki says she has one last place to take Carol: Her dad's ramen cart.
Carol is amazed that his food looks so good, because her dad always blew up whatever he was cooking
Some tears fall into the broth, and that's...the end of the first half. Second half will be released in a week.
#senki kanshoku symphogear shirabe meshi#senki zesshou symphogear#symphogear#carol malus dienheim#hibiki tachibana#elfnein#genjuro kazanari#micha jawkan#garie tuman#phara suyuf#leiur darahim#shirabe tsukuyomi#akira tachibana
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my dad is coming here for his birthday in late february, we will go skiing and drink champagne and gossip about his employers. then i'm visiting my parents together in louisiana during easter and i'm really excited. even though it's exhausting in its own way, i'm a lot more at peace with the things they did wrong (and yea, that i did wrong) during my childhood & adolescence. i just want to enjoy our time together, because i understand how limited it is and how hard they've worked and how much they've sacrificed to be the kind of parents that they needed growing up. anyway, in louisiana there will be gardens and humidity and the smell of cyprus
#and a sense of unbelonging now that i've lived abroad for almost 12 years#but i'm slowly becoming at peace with that#i change and the place changes but my memories do not change#so when i return to it#i can't recognize the place in my dreams
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hm ok so for a while i was thinking that Wally, for the most part, only perceives reality as "Home", the neighborhood. that's his entire world, it's all he knows
but then i slapped myself and went wait. the Live Interview. Wally has been outside of Home, and has interacted with humans (presuming that the interview did actually happen, of course). and through Wally's interactions - or rather, attempt at interactions with Us, the QA, and the WHRP, it can be strongly assumed that he knows that there's an Elsewhere. there are places outside of Home. maybe he doesn't quite understand that there's another reality of sorts, but there's no way he's unaware that there's more than just the neighborhood out there
(and then of course there's the fact that Clown has said that humans are deeply involved (not a direct quote, im paraphrasing) in Welcome Home. maybe Wally interacted with them / regularly interacted with them. there could have been an adjustment period after he gained consciousness where humans helped him learn how to walk/talk/fine motor skills - this could be why he has such a seemingly inherent / desperate trust in Us & the WHRP & the QA... humans made him and cared for him. it's possible he could view them as a sort of higher power to trust & have faith in
& maybe he's been off-set or could go off-set. i mean, the houses' rooms were all different sets - the buildings themselves were empty husks, right? who's to say Wally wouldn't physically walk to the individual set pieces whenever he went over to someone's house (but then that leads me into speculation on how the puppets' consciousness works and how multiple copies of them could co-exist and wondering which is the - im getting off track. but there's all of that and then the two part "you're okay!" art pieces of Wally & Eddie, which are technically canon - dont quote me on that - and that's Another ramble/theory post i could go on about & have strong feelings on. Anyway!)
"but wait," i hear someone protest, "what about Barnaby? he was in the Live Interview too"
but was he? was he really? was that Barnaby, or was that a person in a suit playing the character Barnaby B. Beagle? i mean, if it was Barnaby, there had to be some memory fuckery going on that prevented him from either fully comprehending/realizing the situation, or just made him forget as soon as it was over.
and actually wait, Wally has to be aware of the reality discrepancy. because it was certainly him in the Interview as himself. He had to have understood on some level that either that wasn't really Barnaby, or that Barnaby wouldn't remember the interview.
(there's a connection in my head between all of this & how he would view an apple pie. "it isn't the same anymore. something's different". but i can't pin it down for the life of me.)
and with the Talking Telephone calls, Wally explicitly tells Us that he's not going to tell anyone who was behind the calls. i remember listening to the "original" prank call audio tests, which while were very similar to the canon in-website ones, have a few changes. one of which was Wally - in the tests - saying that the others weren't ready to meet Us yet. now in canon that tidbit has been swapped out for "You have to go too. You have work to do" but i think it's still implied through Wally's purposeful withholding-of-information that he doesn't think the others are ready to know. or he straight up doesn't want them to know
i mean, one little theory i previously had is that Wally wants them all to catch on to the nature of their reality and situation, but he doesn't want to - or Can't - tell them outright. they have to figure it out. and that can't was either something keeping him quiet, or because if they learned too soon / inorganically, their little puppet heads would pop into confetti like Red Guy's in dhmis 4
However my views have Changed and i'm pretty sure Wally is purposefully not telling anyone to maintain the illusion that everything is fine and can continue on as it always has. maybe it comes from a place of protectiveness, of love? whatever the motive i think he wants them all to keep being unaware and dare i say, Complacent while he "fixes" their situation.
which is delusional, but we all know Wally is digging his metaphorical claws into a desperate bid to keep everything the same / return it to its original state, leaving bloody scratches in something already rotted. or something like that!
all this to say i think it's interesting how it seems that he's the only one aware of humans / an outside/other world, yet he's so determined to stay in his lane. he wants connection & communication yet he doesn't want to leave or change. he wants help in keeping things the same (some could say in keeping Our reality & his separated) but in the process he's dooming everyone/everything and tearing down those walls himself
(Wally: i'm going to stay where i am, and you're gonna stay where you are, and we're gonna help each other keep me and my friends where we're meant to be. anyway i wonder what this sledgehammer does)
#this is a very disjointed ramble but when are they ever put together!#i have to start at point a to get to point 36 yk yk#trying to write down my thoughts is like trying to keep a firm grip on a lubed up ferret#SOAPED!!! SOAPED UP!!! I MEANT SOAP yk that doesnt make it any better. anyway moving on dont look at me#its. its. the more i think about wally the more i go insane#like he's got neurosis stacked on neurosis stacked on-#there is something soooo wrong with him <3#homebogging#welcome home speculation#wh speculation#i do think his heart is in the right place. i do think he's trying to achieve something he thinks is good & best for everyone#but... despite being aware of more than his friends... technically knowing more Truth than them#he's more trapped by that knowledge. he's ruled by it. and he doesn't really have the -#i dont want to say capacity bc i have to believe that he Can change. he just doesnt know how / currently doesnt want to / is too scared to#but he doesn't have the freedom the others have. bc in their ignorance they can ignore their confines#in a way they're more real than wally despite living in a fabricated world as fabricated people with fabricated lives#they're authentic in their ignorance#and ive said it before and ill say it again - wally was created as a blank slate while everyone else already had a Foundation#no matter how false their memories are they Have them. they have the tools to change and want change#they already perceive themselves as more than what they were made for. they think they're People (not humans - people) dont they?#so if they learn theyre trapped... they'll want out. meanwhile wally is already stuck bc while they have - in a way - More#the neighborhood & the show are all wally has. he knows there's outside but he doesnt have any reason to Want that outside#bc why would he want to leave home? why would he want anything to change? it's his sole purpose isnt it?#idk i just think wally would benefit from being told 'you dont need a purpose / you dont need to adhere to a purpose / you are enough as Yo#doing what You want. you can just Be'#but yk. what was i talking about again#oh yeah - wally is so so aware and yet so in the dark#he's got one half of the puzzle but they're all corner/edge pieces and he's trying to fill the inside space with Nothing#hm. i wonder if he'll end up needing the other neighbors to help finish the puzzle... who's to say who's to say!!#FUCK YOU TUMBLR I HAD MORE TO SAY. CUT OFF AGAIN AGH
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into the deep end - 29k T orufrey fic.
the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the other.
for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.
the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.
but they were never whole to begin with, were they?
qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.
olly says nothing.
#witch hat tag#orufrey#ok first this drawing isnt right im too tired..i couldnt draw for a week bc i was WRITINGGG and now i dont even know how..#im changed....... why would you write a 29k fic? WHY??? and i wanted it to be 30k because qifrey (spoilers) turns thirty in it.#and that's important to me...and yet it's 29.4k. there's a point where it's just like. i cannot any more. it is what it is. goodbye#it's about memory trauma..disability..birthdays..mental illness..living in a grave since you were born since you died since it happened#and crawling and crawling and crawling back to the place where you left him#uh yeah feel free to give it a read! i literally dont know if a single person will read it and enjoy it and tell me LOL#i've realised long fics do not get read as much lol. but! it's separated into 4 parts ok! you could read one part and then take a break.#just saying. also i hate editing. if there are any more typos ill flip my lid. no-one tell me.#god i love witch hat and qifrey and orufrey and oru#there's girls and background ermicia and garuato but i was so vague about so much cause i had to be peace out#btw being ace is critical to me and informs everything i write.
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she's gonna be a lot like me; but i don't wanna be at all like me- petscop
Once again, Paul finds himself in a waiting room. The room is quiet, but filled with the low murmur of anxious ambience; mothers kill time by tapping aimlessly on their phones, patients waiting to be called shuffle and tap their feet impatiently, the man at the front desk clicks the keys on his keyboard, on and off, as he fills out paperwork. In the corner of the room, a clock on the wall ticks.
The longer Paul stared at his shoes– how readily they met the carpet, laying flat against the ground– a horrible twisting in his chest began. His heart started to beat just slightly to the left; lungs trapped underneath it as his breath grew shallow.
Paul felt the anxious energy, eyes glued to the carpet. It is coarse and green with pinpricks of blue sewn in. He scrapes his old sneakers against the carpet, adding to the noise. It’s a soothing action. Spurred on by his own boredom, Paul tapped his feet and the thick clomp it makes is disconcerting, like the sound of running barefoot on grass.
Paul should not be this tall. He should not fill the chair like he does. The quiet ambience should be louder, obtrusive; office workers click away at their keyboards, children chase each other through the halls, squealing all the way. A paper shredder bursts to life across the room, teachers walk through brusquely without a word of acknowledgement, adults chat and laugh above him. He stared at his feet, hands pulled close in his lap, clutching a thin children’s book. Paul’s feet dangle past the lip of a faded red chair, lifeless. The sight of pink sneakers, scuffed and stained green and brown, makes tears spring to his eyes. They’re ruined. She ruined them, made them disgusting and ugly and it’s all her fault.
The door separating the waiting room from the rest of his therapist’s office creaked open. A nicely dressed woman with a wide smile stood in the doorway.
“Paul? Paul Leskowitz?”
“Um- that’s me.” Paul answered. He rose from his chair slowly as the unfamiliar woman beckoned him. Fog swirled in his head and obscured his memory.
She nodded, smiling again, “Come on through then.”
Paul followed her through the hall. It’s somewhat uncomfortable; not quite small enough to squeeze, but claustrophobic all the same. He would hate to pass by another person in there.
They came upon a door, painted a warm yellow. It stood out against the sterile white walls of the rest of the place. Although, he supposed it matched the eclectic blue and green carpet of the waiting room. On the door was a plaque, engraved with the name “Dr. Patricia Miller” and below it, “Psychotherapist”. The name didn't spark any recognition, but her title did. Paul is often taken out of class to see a counsellor, so he must be having another session.
Dr. Miller held open the door for Paul, motioning him to sit. There’s a long, grey couch on one end of the room, facing an armchair. A neatly folded blanket hangs over the back, covering half of the couch. Paul sat on the other end, but worries one of the blanket’s tassels between his fingers. It’s soft and fuzzy; Paul was grateful for something to look at while Dr. Miller got herself sorted.
“So, how are you today–” she checked a paper in her clipboard, “Paul?”
He was struck by the silence in the room and almost felt too awkward to speak.
“Uh-” Paul started, voice reedy with disuse. He cleared his throat before trying again, “Sorry, where am I?”
Embarrassment flooded him when Dr. Miller’s eyebrows rose. Paul knew he should remember the significance of this place, but right now he was drawing a blank. Dr. Miller’s laugh-lined face and curly auburn hair didn’t strike him as significant and neither did the softly lit office he found himself in.
Still, she recovered from her surprise quickly. Her features softened to a look of gentle concern.
“I’m your new therapist. You booked this appointment last Friday, I believe. Here, I can give you…” She drew out the last syllable, rummaging around in the purse sat by her feet. Dr. Miller procured a small card and handed it across the coffee table separating them.
Paul breathed a sigh of relief when he read the information on Dr. Miller’s business card. Recognition sparked at the long address of the “ClearView Wellness Center”; Belle texted him multiple times over the past week with the location, even calling him this morning to make sure he got there without any issue. Ironically, the issues started after he had already arrived.
Dr. Miller uncapped a pen, holding it poised to write on her clipboard, “Don’t worry about this, by the way,” she said, kindly, “I only take notes to better understand you and your situation. Anything you say will not leave this room and I will be the only person reading these.”
He nodded wordlessly.
She started simple, “Do you often forget your surroundings?”
He met her expectant gaze, before shifting back to the blanket. Paul cleared his throat again.
“Um- sometimes, yeah. I guess.” He bit the inside of his cheek, “It uh- it used to happen a lot, I think, but it kinda stopped after I left highschool.”
She nodded, taking a moment to scribble down a few notes. As she wrote, she asked her next question.
“Does it still happen to you or do you believe it’s fully gone away?”
He shifted uncomfortably. The blanket is pilling.
“It- I think it’s back, kinda?”
She looked up at him, “What do you mean by that?”
Paul couldn’t answer. His jaw was locked around the words he couldn’t articulate. Nothing was trapped in his throat, he just– didn’t know what to say to that. Dr. Miller let the question hang between them for a minute before changing her trajectory.
“Is there a reason for this behaviour?” She posed clinically, “Any sort of strenuous situation or pent up stress?”
Anna was waiting for him at her house. He left abruptly last Thursday, after his latest session with the game left him drained and afraid of… whatever unseen threat lurked behind his screen, surely. Paul chastised himself for forgetting what exactly it was, but Belle understood. She hadn’t let him answer Anna’s incessant calls and encouraged him to talk to someone– even a one-off appointment like this– to mitigate his stress. Still, his hands itched for the controller and he’s sure he’ll be back in that horrible house sooner or later. The family knows how to break someone down like that.
“There’s a um…” He said, voice crackling. He knew he couldn't mention the game, but he wanted to talk to her, no matter how discomforting this place is.
“My–” How does he explain to her who Anna is to him? She’s not his mother, not anymore. He decided to start somewhere else, “I cut ties with my blood relatives a long time ago, but I uh- I- I’m talking to them again. Um, I’m actually partially living with my biological mother.”
Before Dr. Miller can cut in, Paul elaborated, “I don’t know if I really want to be there? I don’t– I don’t want to be there.”
“Why is that?”
Paul paused, deliberating. He knows why– the family is awful and he doesn’t like them. But, articulating that is difficult. His head hurts.
“I think um…” He shifted, slouching over to pick at his hands, “I think it’s making me paranoid.”
Scratching pen on paper fills the room. When it stopped, Dr. Miller gave him a reassuring smile.
“It’s easy to feel intimidated when in an unfamiliar situation, especially when your relationship with whoever you’re living with is strained. What do you feel makes you paranoid at your biological mother’s house?”
Paul swallowed thickly.
“I don’t… uh- I don’t really know? I just feel like- like something is waiting for me there.”
“Waiting for you? Is it something physically waiting or a kind of negative interaction?”
“Both? I don’t like talking to Anna, but I’m not um- afraid of her, or anything. Being there just makes me get all… jumpy and- and irritable, I guess. Sometimes…” He trailed off. Part of him didn’t want to put words to this particular fear– it was irrational and fleeting. Saying it out loud gave it merit.
“It’s alright, you can continue.” She encouraged.
Paul drew in a deep breath, “Sometimes I… when I have trouble sleeping, it feels like something bad is going to happen. It’s not as bad in the daytime, but I just- I don’t like sleeping at her house.”
Dr. Miller nodded, “Do you feel like this all the time or only at Anna’s house?”
“Recently, it’s just been at Anna’s. I remember being a really light sleeper as a kid, but uh- that’s really it. I stopped being afraid of the dark a while ago.” Paul tried at a joke, laughing weakly to fill the empty air. Dr. Miller spared him a pity smile.
“Right. You said you don’t like talking to Anna, why is that? Is it related to why you don’t speak with her anymore?”
Cold sweat beaded on Paul’s forehead, in stark contrast to the red-hot spark of anxiety under his skin.
“I- I don’t know.”
“… You don’t know?”
Paul’s hands tightened in his lap.
“I don’t- I mean, she’s overbearing and intrusive and I get- I get kinda um…” He drew his shoulders, “I feel weird when she’s around. She– and the whole family, I guess– they’re uh- they’re dismissive. And she’s really emotional. I feel like I need to make her feel better when I’m there, but I don’t really know her?”
Dr. Miller looked up at him quizzically.
“We left when I was a kid. I don’t really remember why anymore, just that um- my- my mom– sorry, my adoptive mom, Lina– she took me away to live with her and my sister, Belle. There was family drama, or something like that…” He refuses to think about the game and it’s fucked up story– it’s not real, just the backwards revenge plot of a distant relative in his backwards family. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Do you know what that drama was?” She asked simply.
Paul didn’t answer.
“Was there perhaps an incident where your mother felt the need to remove you from Anna’s care? Any sort of mistreatment or neglect that–”
Paul drifted out of the conversation and into another. The consistent rumbling of Lina’s new car on gravel road drowned out the dulcet tones of Dr. Miller. They hit a bump and jumped a few inches above their seats, squealing all the way down. Glitzy pop music streamed through the speakers and Lina turned it up loud enough to hear over Belle’s singing. Paul joined in, quieter than Belle, always quieter– but singing along nonetheless. He dug his fingers into the thin plastic bag in his lap, watching it warp around his tiny fingers. It’s filled to bursting with his belongings, but gives easily. When he pulled away, he noticed the angry red cuts trailing up from her fingertips to the backs of her hands. They hit another bump, and this time she screamed.
“-aul, are you okay? Paul? Can you hear me?”
A woman with aged olive skin and copper hair is leaning towards him across a low table. She must be important, because she is dressed in a crisp blouse and slacks. The woman’s face is contorted into a thin-lipped smile. Paul felt sick.
“I’m sorry- I- I need to make- I need to call someone. Ex-excuse me.”
#ouuuggghghghhhh im back on my bullshit. hi#im here to post about paul leskowitz and how ill he makes me!!!#the nature of paul's memory loss is played with a bit here so its probably not v accurate but im fine with that#my fic#petscop#paul leskowitz#petscop paul#petscop belle#petscop anna#anna leskowitz#lina leskowitz#its like hm. today i will think about how paul doesnt remember half of his life but is still haunted by the events that took place there#i have v specific ideas about paul and his family and his life after leaving anna but do take note:#he is distinctly changed by smth he cannot remember the shape of. and playing petscop is bringing it back#okay bye its 2am and im really tired <3
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theres a 99% chance we’re gonna move so i have to start packing little things now cause it makes the transition easier but i hate it i dont want to
#i know i sound like am immature little kid just pouting and stomping my foot#but i’ve had to move every two years since i was like 14 for so many different reasons#each place ive moved to just got increasingly worse so i think i have the right to pout like a 14 yr old girl#but its just dumb#if i start taking stuff down now itll make it easier to leave cause it wont feel like my space by then#its what ive always done#if i pack weeks ahead of time it just feels like im leaving a hotel or something#but right nows the hard part#im not even over my childhood home/s#i cant talk about those without crying and its been 20 years#i’d just like to stay in one place for awhile#we wont be going far cause me and my sister both have jobs right here but#its still different#im tired of seeing my stuff in boxes im tired of not feeling safe in my own space#it all just makes me so unstable cause i cant plant my roots anywhere#idk maybe its stupid#if everything goes according to plan#we’ll probably be moving a little after memorial day#and all i want to do is lock my door and refuse to let anyone do anything#im still just that little girl that was leaving her childhood bedroom and moving hours away#tbd#i didnt even get to skate today cause its raining#whatever im gonna get in bed and watch movies til i can go to sleep#if ive been bad at responding to msgs or not posting as much . this is why 👍#any sort of change like this makes me isolate myself like crazyy
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