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wildernessuntothemselves · 4 years

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Say It

Part 1/3 of the Companion Trilogy.

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Hendery has always been respectful of your autonomy, never forcing you into doing anything you didn’t want to do. You’ve never outright discussed stated why you’d always shy away from his touches when they got a little too intimate, and he didn’t ask you to. He would just smile and change the subject. It wasn’t until you instantly took to the newly assigned guard, Lucas, that Hendery started becoming pushy, all subtleness flying out the window.

Warnings: femdom, pillow humping, degradation

It was a pleasant day. Hendery had suggested a walk in the gardens, and you’d happily agreed, wanting to feel the warm sun on your skin and breathe in the fresh air. It looked like it was going to be a good day, but you failed to anticipate a major hurdle in your plan, namely Lucas, one of Hendery’s bodyguards. He’d decided to join the two of you--for protection, he said-- but seeing that you were still safely inside the palace ground, you figured he just wanted the company.

You were good friends with Lucas, but Hendery did not like him very much. Which is weird considering he had initially taken to him so well. They had seemed like two peas in a pod in the beginning, bouncing off each others’ energy. Actually, it was the fact that Hendery seemed to like Lucas so much was why you immediately warmed up to him too, eager to get in on the fun the two were having, and Lucas welcomed your presence with open arms.

But it all changed when Hendery gradually began lashing out at Lucas for no reason, getting snarky and rude with him, always leaving him behind whenever he could, and complaining about the tiniest mistakes he made to his father in an apparent bid to get him fired. You’d tried asking him about his weird behaviour but he just denied having any malice towards Lucas and stated that he was simply just not a good bodyguard. You found that doubtful. Sure, Lucas can be a bit ditzy and airheaded sometimes but he is brave and he is strong and he is more than capable of doing this job. As for the budding friendship they once shared, it was long dead now.

The walk had turned pretty tense now that Lucas was here. Hendery held your hand tightly, all but marching along and dragging you behind him as if he’s trying to outpace Lucas. Which is pretty stupid considering the leg span that boy has, he could catch up to you in two strides if he wanted to. But Lucas could sense the static in the air and he stayed a few steps behind.

This wasn’t the relaxing walk you had in mind. Your legs were getting pretty tired from all this power walking and you so request that you stop at one of the gazebos to take a break, but under the shade, it was even more stifling as Hendery sat cross-armed and pouting.

“It’s so nice outside today.” Lucas comments, trying to make conversation and you’re about to agree, glad to have something to talk about when Hendery scoffs, interrupting you. “What a novel observation. Perhaps you’d like to share your thoughts about the latest news too.”

“Hendery…”

He looks at you sharply, silently forbidding you from coming to the other man’s defense. You’ll have none of his bullshit though, and you’re about to tell him just that when something jumped out of the shrubbery and landed on the seat next to Hendery. It took him exactly a fraction of a second to scream and launch himself out of his seat.

“What? What?” Lucas jumped to his feet, immediately on guard. He’d seen the frog but he didn’t understand Hendery’s severe reaction to it.

“Hendery has a phobia of frogs.” You explain, wrapping an arm around the prince and patting his back soothingly.

Lucas looks between Hendery and the frog in confusion. "Really? I think they're kinda cute." He mumbles, not having a dig at Hendery but merely sharing his thoughts.

A smile breaks out on your face at that. “I actually think so too!” You gush, having never found someone who shares your fondness of them before, least of which Hendery.

Lucas returns your excited grin before he clears his throat and says to Hendery, “Don’t worry, man. I’ll get rid of it.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not really afraid of frogs at all.”

Your head snaps up to look at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion, unconvinced. “You’re fucking terrified of them. You once hopped onto a door handle to escape one.”

Hendery blushes, “That was so long ago.”

“It was last year.”

“Well, I’m not afraid of them anymore.” He proclaims loudly as if trying to convince himself. “In fact, I’ll get rid of it myself.”

“Hendery, you don’t have to do this…” You get nervous. You’ve seen multiple times how severely he can react to frogs and you don’t want him to traumatise himself just because his ego is hurt.

"Don't have to do what? Catch this little frog? Don’t be silly." He dismisses you, reaching out to grab it. But as his hand is almost touching it, it suddenly jumps away, startling him and he screams and falls back on his ass.

"Are you okay?" You ask with concern, you and Lucas rushing towards him at the same time. Lucas is faster than you, grabbing Hendery’s arm and pulling him back to his feet.

"Get your hands off me. I'm fine." Hendery snaps at Lucas, shoving him off.

"Woah, man, I'm just making sure you're okay.” Lucas raises his hands in the air in surrender and backs off. “You fell pretty hard."

"I'm fine." He huffs, and turns to you. “I want to go back inside.”

He doesn’t give you time to reply, stomping away, obviously expecting you to follow behind him. You sheepishly apologize to Lucas and excuse yourself to go after the prince.

___________________________

"What the fuck was that hendery? You were so rude to Lucas." You ask him as soon as you get back to his suite.

“Why do you care?” He asks way too forcefully, like it was an accusation. “He’s just the bodyguard."

"What does that mean?" You were so confused by that statement. It wasn't like Hendery to look down on others so why is he talking like this now.

"It means that you should be focusing on me, not him. You're my companion." He gets close to you, putting his hands on your waist and resting his forehead against yours. From the way he was looking at you, you finally realize what this really is about.

It was no secret that Hendery wanted you. He never said it outright but he wasn't exactly shy about his desire. And it suddenly clicks that he obviously wouldn’t be super thrilled with how close you seem to be getting with a man as attractive as Lucas.

You trail your hands up his chest slowly, feeling him shiver under you, before you wrap them around his neck. "Is that what you're pissy about? You're jealous of Lucas?"

He scoffs, "I don't need to be jealous of a bodyguard. You're mine." His hold on you tightens and he pulls you flush against his body, leaning down to close that gap between your lips but you quickly tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, holding his head back.

"So you think you own me?" You question lowly, tone biting.

He gulps, hesitating. "That's not what I meant."

"It is. That's why you're so bothered by Lucas.” You insist, one of your hands circling around to caress his face, brushing over his jaw and lips, and it instinctively makes him look down at your own lips as they move, “You can't stand the fact that another man could get his hands on what belongs to you."

He looks back up at you angrily, jaw clenching under your touch. "And so what if I am? I never once forced you into anything. So tell me why I’m getting rejected by you when other princes', who don't afford their companions half the freedom I give you, get to have them fully?"

“You’re so fucking entilted.” You scoff, your hand dropping down his body and palming the outline of his dick through his pants, making him moan softly and buck a little in your hand. "So you think that because you are nice to me, you deserve to stick your cock inside of me?"

He finds it hard to gather his thoughts with your hand massaging him through his pants. "No, I-I'd just--"

"Let's see it then." You interrupt him, pulling away.

"What--"

"Show me your cock, and I’ll decide if it’s worth it." You sneer, and he stands completely motionless, frozen in shock, as you slowly unbutton his pants and pull them down along with his boxers to the ground.

His, very impressive, dick stands erect, glistening with precum right in front of your face, as you kneel down.

"Hmm, you have a really nice cock." You purr, your breath hitting his member, and it jerks in response. He whimpers softly as you open your mouth as if you'll take him in and you feel him tense up in anticipation. You hold his gaze for a beat, watching the dark desire clouding his irises as you stick your tongue ever so slightly out of your mouth... then you pull it back in and stand up, depriving him of what he thought he was gonna get.

You smile as he falls into your arm in distress, a quiet sob leaving him as his cock comes in contact with your floral dress. He buries his face in your neck, and his hips start rutting against your waist when your hands slide under his shirt to rub his belly just over where his cock rests.

"Please." He pleads softly.

“Please?" You repeat, mocking, "Why are you begging when you already own me, master.”

"Don't--you know I didn't mean it like that."

You completely disregard what he said, your next words taking him off guard. "You're a virgin, aren't you?"

“Wh-what does that have to do with anything?” He pulls back, flustered.

“That’s not an answer.” You taunt, lips ghosting over his collarbone, your eyes not leaving his.

“I--I…” He gulps, hesitating. “....yeah.”

You chuckle darkly, "And how do you expect to know how to fuck me right if you’ve never done it before?"

His face flushes at your jab, and he sputters defensively, "That's your fault! You never let me touch you."

You shrug, "You could've fucked other girls. Why didn’t you?"

You were genuinely curious. Plenty of princes sleep with other women even if they are already sleeping with their companions. Yes, companions are usually the first to experiment with, but they’re not commonly the only sexual partner. So if you weren’t giving Hendery what he needed, he could’ve easily gotten it somewhere else.

“Why do I need to? You should've been taking care of me."

You narrow your eyes at him, not satisfied with his answer. “Tell me why.” You press on, gripping his chin in your hand and looking deeply into his eyes.

You can see the panic in his eyes, Hendery was never particularly good at hiding his feelings from you and you already had your suspicions. “Speak.”

“I--I just...want you.” He whispers.

“Only me?” You keep prodding.

He nods, his dark hair falling over his eyes, hiding them from you, but you already got what you wanted. Satisfied, you lean up to press a chaste kiss on his lips. He tries to follow your mouth when you pull back all too quickly, but you press a finger to his lips and grin. "Is that why I’d catch you humping my pillow sometimes?"

Hendery jerks back, mortified. “You saw that?”

“I did.” You close the distance between you again, threading your fingers through his silky hair. "You always did it so roughly too, you must have been so needy. Poor baby."

“Don’t tease me.” He ducks his head into your shoulder, trying to hide from you, but you cup his face in your hands and press your nose to his. "I wanna see it again."

He gapes at you, mouth opening and closing but no words forming.

"Come on, don’t be shy now. You wanted this and as far as I can tell, you haven't earned the right to fuck me yet. So why don’t you put on a little show for me, and I might just let you. I've always wanted to get a closer look at you making a mess of yourself.” You kiss him again, this time lingering more and letting him deepen it. His tongue prods against your lips and you open your mouth to take it in. He moans when his tongue meets yours, his hands gripping your hips and pushing you against him needily.

You let him get lost in the kiss for a while, working himself up, before you pull back. “You’ll do it for me, won’t you, baby?"

He quickly nods, too high off the kiss to question you. “Good boy.” You grin, pecking his nose then turning him around towards the bed.

You grab your pillow and position it in the center of the bed then you coax him onto the bed so he’s hovering over it on his hands and knees, his cock barely touching it. You take a seat behind him and drape your body over his back.

"Go on, baby.” You encourage him, using your hands to grab his hips and guide his cock against the pillow. He initially stays passive, letting you move his body, but as his cock rubs more and more against the pillow and you continue to encourage him with sweet words whispered in his ear, he starts moving on his own.

"You're doing so good, baby. Are you imaging that you're fucking me?"

He eagerly nods. “Yeah… will you let me?”

You pretend to contemplate for a moment. “I don’t know. Depends how good you are for me. Remember, you gotta earn it, master.”

He whines, “Stop calling me that.”

“But you are my master.” You laugh, “My good, handsome master who will do his best to please me, right?”

“Yes. I want to please you.” He croaks, hips stuttering.

“Are you close, baby?”

He moans in affirmation, bucking against the pillow more desperately.

“Stop.” You tap his ass lightly, but he just mumbles in confusion and continues.

“Hendery, stop.” You repeat sharply, your fingers digging into his sides, and he finally stops. You take the pillow out from under him and tell him to continue.

“But there is nothing to…” He trails off, voice small and breathless.

“Nothing to fuck? Hmm, how about you just hump the air for me then?” You laugh cruelly, pulling away from him so you can lie down beside him to watch. “Come on, you said you’ll be good for me.”

He’s too horny and desperate to please you to resist now so he complies, his hips pushing into empty air and the tip of his heavy dick barely brushing against the sheets below.

“That’s it. Good boy.” You watch in fascination as a tiny wet spot starts forming under him, and you reach out to lightly rub at his nipples, driving him even more wild.

“Please--” He groans, head looking forward and eyes scrunched up, not even able to look at you.

“Are you close already, just from humping the air?” You tsk, mocking him. “How do you expect to satisfy me then? Or are you only thinking about yourself again?”

He shakes his head, “I can make you feel good, I promise. I can be so good for you.” He avows, his hips dropping down to grind up against the mattress.

You frown and pinch his nipple that you were just carassing, causing his hips to jerk back up. “You expect me to believe that when you can’t even control yourself? Look at you, you’re gonna cum all over the sheets and I’m not even touching you.” You scoff, eyeing the trail of precum leaking from his tip onto the sheets below.

"Maybe I should just let someone who knows what they’re doing fuck me instead. Like Lucas.”

That riles him up and he snarls, pushing you onto your back and climbing on top of you. But once there, he doesn’t know what to do.

You laugh, “See? You’re hopeless.” Your hand inches down his body towards his dick. “I bet you’d cum as soon as I touch your pretty dick.”

He grabs your wrist, stopping you just before you can wrap your hand around him, and he stares down at you, eyes pleading.

“Come on, baby. Show me that you can handle me.”

You challenge, shaking his hand off and grabbing his cock. He groans, throwing his head back and biting down on his lip hard. He shudders above you as your thumb rubs over the head of his dick. “Please, stop…”

“Why, you’re not gonna cum, right?” You growl in his ear, moving your thumb faster over his slit, the precum leaking out making it so easy. "Don’t you wanna prove to me that you can fuck be as good as Lucas can? You think he would cum just from a little touching?”

“Shut up.” He growls, trying to hold himself back with all his might.

“What, am I making you angry, baby? You don’t like the thought of Lucas fucking me with his big, fat cock?” You drawl, your hand blurring over his cock as your other hand reaches up to tug on his nipple, practically forcing the orgasm out of him.You feel his cock jerk in your loose grip, and he cries out loudly as ropes of cum shoot out of his dick and land on your dress.

“So disappointing.” You lament, and he slumps over you, hiding his face in your chest and mumbling quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” You sneer and cup his chin to prop his head up and run your cum soaked thumb along his bottom lip. “But at least you know how to apologize. You may earn the right to fuck me yet.”

“Thank you.”

You smile, “Good boy.”

You push him on his back and climb over him, leaning down so your faces are inches apart. “And remember, You don’t own me, Hendery. I own you.”

He gulps.

“Isn't that right master.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time. “Yes.”

"Say it, Hendery."

"You own me. I'm yours"

____________________________

A/N: lol

#hendery smut #wayv smut #nct smut #sub!idol #dom!reader #sub!hendery

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plasticnightmaredoll · 3 years

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So, this is a drabble I’ve been sitting on for a little while, mostly because I wrote it while in a “mood” and thus it’s kind of personal. However, I do still like it and want to share it.

It does involve Erron Black and Cassie Cage from “Mortal Kombat,” so if you’re familiar with them then kudos, I suppose. If not, then it’s no a big deal. You don’t need to know all about them to understand what’s going on in this drabble.

I didn’t tag this writing with anything Mortal Kombat related because it’s kind of...bashing BlackCage (Erron Black x Cassie Cage) and doesn’t paint Cassie Cage in the best light. I don’t want the drama and bullshit that could result so I am keeping the MK tags far away from this drabble.

Now, this fic DOES involve Arkham Knight Riddler, so it’s a crossover, and I am 100% ok with tagging him and Scarecrow (Yes, he’s in it, too, sort of). Neither of them are portrayed in a way that would piss people off.

Now, the fic is very personal to me and technically it’s a self-insert, but I refrained from using my real name or my alias, and has just referred to myself with pronouns. Why? Because I’m kind of shy and weird like that. Plus, it’s super personal and emotional to me, this drabble, and I just don’t feel comfortable directly attaching my name -- or even my alias -- to it right now.

This isn’t on AO3 for the reasons I’ve already mentioned, and I am honestly ok with any feedback on this, be it positive or negative. Seriously, if you have thoughts, then share. If you happen to be a BlackCage fan and/or Cassie Cage then feel free to send me hate -- no anon hate, though, as I have turned off anonymous asks.

I will warn you now, the drabble deals with self-esteem issues, and the ending, if you are familiar with Scarecrow (and if you’re reading this, I sure hope you are), the ending is kind of.....dark. Nothing actually happens but it is heavily implied someone is in for a traumatizing time.

Volunteer

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” she said, sounding as defeated and drained as she looked. “I tried my best yet I still only managed to be in the friend zone. He said it’s not that I’m not good enough, but that he had liked her for a while and she finally said ‘yes’ to going out with him so…”

“What does this girl look like?” Edward asked, displeased with the situation.

“Hang on.”

Edward had to admit he wasn’t shocked by this news. From the start, he knew Erron Black was that type of guy, one of those dim-witted pretty boys who had no sense or reason. However, Edward didn’t say anything to her as she was an adult and could make decisions on her own -- even if they were the wrong ones. Besides, she was so smitten by Erron that Edward suspected she wouldn’t have listened to or believed his warnings anyway.

She searched on her phone and found the (infamous) girl’s Instagram profile and then handed it to Edward. Looking through Cassie Cage’s photos, frowning, shaking his head, he found himself unimpressed. This was the woman that got Erron’s attention? Honestly? She was a spoiled, bratty, self-centered blonde with the IQ of a donut!

Clearly.

Although, seeing as how Erron’s IQ was clearly no higher than that of Cassie Cage, Edward figured birds of a feather flocked together...one dodo for another.

“Ugh, I’ve seen enough,” Edward said, handing her back her phone. “She’s a social media brat who has fluff for brains and probably uses her looks to get what she wants. There’s no way she’s actually an intelligent, fascinating person. Anyone who takes that many ridiculous selfies is, without a doubt, an idiot.”

Edward noticed she didn’t appear to be relieved by his words, so he quickly thought of something else to add, hoping it would provide some sort of window to clarity that she desperately needed for this situation.

“So, this Cassie fits society’s shallow and pointless standards of beauty,” Edward said. “She’s an absolute bore, I tell you! She’s got a pretty face and an attitude, probably only is successful because she’s relied on her parents for everything.”

She still looked upset, and maybe even more so.

Ok, Edward, think! thought the criminal genius, chewing on his lower lip as his anxiousness grew. There’s got to be a way to get this through to her. This is a waste of her time!

“I mean...I wouldn’t want to spend time with her,” Edward said, placing a hand on his chest. “I’d probably lose my mind after listening to whatever pointless drivel would inevitably spill forth from her mouth. As for her looks, well, let’s be realistic here: they won’t last, and then what? She’ll be stranded with her own deflated ego and nowhere to go.”

Edward could tell that she was nearly crying now much to his dismay, and she kept her head down to hide the tears gathering under her lashes. This was absurd, he thought. Why did she feel so hurt by a guy who was a complete moron and a girl who looked like every other blonde girl out there? It was a waste of time, energy, thought, and emotion to dwell on such people. Why couldn’t she see that?

“I understand what you said,” she said, sniffling. “I agree with a lot of it but...it still hurts, maybe more so now that I realize how much of a bimbo Cassie is. And Erron chose her? I’m not blonde...is that what he wants?” She gripped her phone tightly. “Do I need to start acting like an obnoxious brat, taking selfies and posting them online for attention?” The grip was now threatening to crack the protective outer case of the phone. “I did all I could to be a good friend to him, was there for him, listened to him, treated him well….and yet, I’m still not good enough to earn his...his love? He waited a long time for Cassie...well, I’ve waited even longer to stop being rejected because I’m not good enough!”

Not wanting her to injure herself, he reached out and placed a hand over hers, watching her fingers loosen around her phone.

“I don’t feel good enough,” she said softly, finally crying. “I’ve never been good enough. I don’t know why...I don’t know...I try and I try but it’s never enough...”

Edward watched her sob quietly to herself, unsure of what to do but his internal panic was growing worse. This wasn’t exactly his area of expertise, and he still thought she was wasting energy on two idiots. However, there was nothing he could do about that, not right now, not when she was still overwhelmed by emotion.

So, he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling a little awkward doing it but it was all he could think of at the time.

“It’s going to be alright,” Edward told her. “I promise.”

A few weeks later….

Edward was typing away at his computer as she sat at a table nearby working on one of her custom dolls. With her headphones on, she drowned out the world around her, entirely focused on painting the face of the doll. Because of this, she didn’t notice him get up from his chair to “greet” the ignorant Neanderthal standing outside under the security camera mounted on top of the main door.

Edward opened the door to see a worried Erron Black standing outside.

“What do you want?” Edward asked in an exasperated tone.

“Have you heard from her?” Erron asked. “She hasn’t responded to my texts or calls, and it’s really botherin’ me. I wanna know if she’s a’right.”

Edward crossed his arms, sighing in annoyance.

“Yes, I have seen her and spoken to her,” Edward said. “And it’s her right to ignore you if she chooses to.”

“I...I know that but…” Erron rubbed the back of his neck. “I...I want to speak to her...there’s somethin’ I got to say. I...I just...I need to see her and talk to her, face to face.”

“Haven’t you done enough?” Edward demanded. “No, you can’t speak to her. You’ve done enough damage to her psychological state with your puny, insignificant brain.”

Erron looked taken aback but said nothing as guilt consumed him further. As much as he hated Edward’s callous words, the cowboy wasn’t in the mood to pick a fight.

“Now, run along, Little Cowboy,” Edward said. “Go back to your vapid Selfie Queen where you belong.”

With that, Edward closed the door in Erron’s face, smirking triumphantly. Why that idiot thought he could just walk on back with his tail between his legs and beg for forgiveness, Edward had no idea. Then again the other man was too selfish to realize the error of his ways, so it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise he tried that.

As Edward made his way back to his computer, he suddenly got an idea; a beautiful, incredible, ingenious, devious idea. Taking his phone out of his pants pocket, he searched for and dialed the number he had in mind for this situation.

“Hello, Crane,” Edward said, smiling wickedly to himself.

“Ah, Edward,” said Jonathan, who was fully expecting to be hit with Edward’s ego. “I am surprised to hear from you. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I’ve got something, or rather someone for you.”

“Oh?”

“You said you were working on a new variation of that fear toxin of yours, am I correct?”

“Yes, and it’s nearly ready. Perhaps just another day more and it will be finished.”

“Great! Then I have a candidate you can test it on.”

“Oh, yes, do tell. I am always looking for ‘volunteers,’ as you know.”

Edward gave Erron’s name and description to Jonathan, his smile turning into a malicious grin as he did so. As much as Edward wanted to teach the dumb cowboy a lesson himself, he also thought it wasn’t worth the effort and Scarecrow loved having ‘volunteers’ for his silly little gas...

“I will have my men apprehend him right away,” said Jonathan.

“Just don’t leave any permanent damage,” Edward said. “Otherwise...have at it.”

“I would never do such a terrible thing,” Jonathan said, chuckling darkly. “I take good care of all of my ‘volunteers.’”

“Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“Before I go, may I ask why you are recommending this man to me? Is he one of your henchmen? Did he steal from you? Fail to complete a job?”

Now this caught Edward off guard. How was he going to explain this? He couldn’t even fully explain his feelings about this -- about her -- to himself. Yet, he didn’t want to deny Jonathan an answer, either. It was a perfectly valid, logical, albeit nosey question.

“This man, he…” Edward began, his words catching in his throat for a moment. “He, um...he...damaged something...something very valuable to me. And...and as much as I want to discipline him myself, he is too far beneath me for me to waste any of my precious time dealing with him further.”

“Ah, I see,” said Jonathan. “I must be going now, but thank you, Edward. You are too generous.”

With that, Edward hung up and made his way over to her, lightly tapping her shoulder. Turning around, she smiled up at him and removed her headphones.

“Hi, Eddie,” she said. “Did you need something?”

“No, no,” he said with a charming smile. “I just wanted to get a closer look at what you’re working on. It looks impressive so far.”

“Really?” she looked delighted, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. “It’s not done yet but...thank you! You have given me a little confidence boost.”

“And you deserve it,” Edward said, patting her shoulder. “I look forward to the final result.”

Back at his desk, Edward continued working on code for upgrades to the Riddlerbots, humming to himself contentedly. Maybe what he did was a bit much, but the cowboy needed to be put in his place. Men like Erron -- people like Erron -- always did. Besides, she would forget about the fool in time. Edward was certain of this because that was the nature of things: you forget about what no longer has any meaning or purpose in your life, and seeing as how she wasn’t at all interested in conversing with Erron anymore...well, it didn’t take a genius to figure out the conclusion.

“Just dance,” she sang softly to herself. “Gonna be okay, da da doo-doo-mmm...”

Edward nodded to himself upon hearing her, smiling.

Yes, it’s going to be ok, My Dear, he thought. It’s all going to be ok…

-----------------

And that’s the drabble....Now, think of this: Riddler could fuck Erron Black up. I mean, he has a goddamn robot army. And Riddler is a criminal genius -- well, even without the “criminal” part, he’s still a genius. Erron is....he’s not. No offense but he’s not.

In this drabble, Eddie is aware of all of this, but -- and this is where the self-insert part comes in so forgive me -- he does have strong feels for myself (which sounds weird but, like I said, this is a self-insert type of thing and I self-ship with this Riddler so......), as I’m the only friend he’s got (only friend he’s probably ever had, really). So, he’s very protective.

I can see Arkham Knight Riddler being this way if he actually cared for someone. They’d be special to him for a lot of reasons and he wouldn’t want them to be hurt. He’d be devastated because he cares for them, they care for him...it’s the last the he’d want, for them to be hurt in any way.

And we know Riddler isn’t above getting revenge, and this is personal.

Yes, I know Batman pissing him off and humiliating him over and over is personal, but I think this sort of situation would be even heavier for AK Riddler for the reasons I already mentioned.

Some idiot dared to make his one and only friend, the only person who has been both kind and respectful towards him despite his flaws, feel awful about themselves and for no good fucking reason?

A guy who reminds Eddie of the bullies he had to deal with growing up (I do think AK Riddler was bullied growing up -- it seems to be implied, and with how poor his social skills are, I think he would have sadly been a target for bullies in school)?

A guy who is so beneath both Eddie and his dear friend, that said guy doesn’t deserve to walk away from this without paying a price?

But Edward isn’t a master of mental torture like Scarecrow is, and we know Scarecrow’s fear toxin makes people hallucinate terrible, terrifying things, including their worst fears and possibly any traumas they have endured in life. Erron Black didn’t have the best childhood based on his intros with other MK characters. It seems like he grew up in an abusive household, has trouble being open with anyone, has trouble forming serious relationships, chases cheap thrills over and over like he’s filling some sort of void....

Something tells me Erron wouldn’t have a good time under the influencer of Scarecrow’s toxin, and while Eddie doesn’t know about Erron’s unpleasant childhood, he...also doesn’t and wouldn’t care because, AGAIN, of the reasons I have already mentioned. In Eddie’s mind, he’s getting revenge for his only friend, the only person he actually cares for, and he’s getting it in a very fucked up kind of way.

Phew...that was a real fucking ramble. I apologize but I have a lot of feelings about this drabble and its subject matter.....

And let’s be fucking REAL, Bitches: Erron should be glad we’re dealing with Arkhamverse Riddler and not Telltale Riddler. If it were Telltale Riddler.....omfg Erron would probably beg for the fear toxin.

Because Telltale Riddler doesn’t fuck around.

#riddler #arkham knight riddler #edward nigma #scarecrow #jonathan crane #edward nygma #self-insert #self-shipping #tw: implied mental torture

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taetaespeaches · 4 years

Text

valentine’s day mini drabbles.

hyung line.

genre: fluff word count: 1.8K

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day lovelies! Here’s the hyung line’s mini drabbles to celebrate this silly day of love. I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading :))

Check out the maknae line mini drabbles here.

“I can’t believe you destroyed six bouquets.”

kim seokjin x reader genre: fluff word count: 431

YOU giggled at your boyfriend who was excitedly telling a story about his hunt for rose petals earlier that day. He was sat at the opposite end of the tub, ranting about how the stores were understocked, bobbing his head like crazy as he spoke causing water to splash out of the tub onto the tiled floor.

The scene was like one straight from a romance film, a trail of flower petals leading down the hallway to the tub, candles lit up around the bathtub that was overflowing with bubbles. Petals were scattered all around, of all different types of flowers.

“I could not find a single thing of rose petals,” he complained with pouted lips and wide eyes. “I ended up buying six bouquets of flowers and pulling all the petals off just to do this.”

At that, you cackled loudly, Jin joining you in laughter with his own squeaky version. “Freaking ridiculous,” he laughed.

“You are ridiculous. And hilarious, and beautiful,” you complimented, Jin smiling softly at you as he tried to hide it behind his hand. He finished the wine that was in his glass, reaching out of the tub to place the empty glass on the floor. “It’s perfect though. This,” you gestured around the bathroom.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said sincerely. “I worked hard for it so you better appreciate it,” he added in a joking tone.

“I can’t believe you destroyed six bouquets,” you shook your head with a smile. You finished the wine in your glass, depositing the glass on the floor next to Jin’s.

“Don’t worry, it was only five. I saved you one,” he smiled. You laughed as you reached for the wine bottle, foregoing the glass as you took a sip straight from the bottle.

Sitting up, Jin followed suit as he sat up as well, your faces inches from each other. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love,” you whispered as you lowered the bottle, dangling it outside of the tub.

“I love you, you goddess,” he spoke, his lips hovering over yours. Pressing his mouth against yours, he left a lingering kiss. Trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck, his fingers dragged down your arms until they reached your hand. His fingers toyed with your fingers until he grabbed the bottle from you, bringing it to his own lips.

As he took a drink of the wine, you leaned forward, placing kisses along his shoulder as your hand settled on his side, squeezing his flesh. “Love you too,” you whispered against his damp skin. “The thought of you, the reality of you, all of you.”

“I romance you all the time.”

min yoongi x reader genre: fluff word count: 390

YOU were sat on your kitchen counter eating a bowl of cereal when your boyfriend let himself into the apartment and shuffled through the hallway to find you.

“Cereal?” He asked, standing across the kitchen from you holding a pink box.

“Heck yeah, want some?” He thought for a moment before shaking his head. Yoongi made his way to you, positioning himself between your legs as he placed the box on one of your thighs. You raised your eyebrows in curiosity and lifted the lid to show you a dozen heart shaped sugar cookies with pink icing.

“Oh my god,” you smiled. “You know, for someone who hates this holiday, you sure do tend to partake in the capitalism of it all,” you teased him, earning a scoff from your boyfriend.

“I’m a conformist.”

“You’re cute,” you smiled as you moved the box of cookies to the counter next to you.

“Oh, shut up,” he whined, a bashful gummy smile threatening to overtake his expression. “I can hate the holiday and still want to spend the evening with you. It’s not my fault all the desserts are shaped like hearts.” He sported a pout as he gave his weak explanation.

“Yeah, yeah,” you patted his cheek. “I kind of love when Lover Boy Min Yoongi makes an appearance.”

“What are you talking about?” He pulled a look of confusion, nose scrunched. “I romance you all the time.”

You held back a laugh at the word choice, romance you, leaning in to leave a peck on his pouted lips. “That’s not Lover Boy Min Yoongi, that’s just Min Yoongi my soft boyfriend,” you teased him. “Lover Boy Min Yoongi is the hopeless romantic who buys heart shaped cookies on Valentine’s Day despite it being capitalistic bullshit,” you quoted him.

“I hate you,” he told you through a bashful gummy grin as he stepped closer to wrap you up in a hug, burying his face in your neck to hide his growing blush.

“Love you too, Lover Boy.”

He groaned against your neck before leaving a peck there. “Love you more, Kid.”

You threaded your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck as you massaged the spot soothingly. “Now what was that you said earlier? You romance me?”

Yoongi groaned louder, you giggling as he squeezed your waist tighter.

“We’ll go to the moon.”

jung hoseok x reader genre: fluff word count: 430

AS you sat with your legs spread in a v-shape atop the picnic blanket, Hoseok sat between your legs, his head resting against your chest as he munched on piece of chocolate. You supported yourself with one arm stretched behind you as your opposite hand stroked your boyfriend’s hair.

You snuck your hand around his face, booping his nose, surprising the man. His lips spread into a fond grin as he took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it, and then placing a kiss to your wrist. He held your hand there for a moment before returning it to the top of his head.

“Demanding, aren’t we?” You teased as you began running your hand through his hair again.

With a chuckle, he nodded. “Just a bit. It feels nice.”

“You’re cute,” you complimented before adding, “even if all that success is going to your head,” you joked, Hoseok giggling as he closed his eyes.

“Only ego, ego, ego,” he sang, referencing his solo outro track making you laugh loudly.

“Trust myself,” you joined in, Hoseok smiling brightly in response. You looked around the mostly empty park, 1 am being pretty late for most people to be out roaming around. “Thank you for this picnic,” you said, looking down at Hobi, watching as his eyes opened and his head titled back to meet your gaze.

“Did you get enough to eat?” His eyes were wide as he anticipated your answer.

“More than enough. I’m stuffed.”

“Good,” he smiled, looking up to the sky.

As he admired the night sky, you admired him, appreciating the way his features shined in the moonlight.

“You know that movie where the guy says he’d lasso the moon for his girl?” He asked before quoting it with your pet name. “What is it you want, Petal? You want the moon?”

With a fond smile, you nodded. “Yeah, ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.”

“Yeah, that’s it. I get it now,” he confessed as he stared up at the moon. “I would give you the moon if I could. If you asked for it, I’d find a way.” You ran your hand through his hair as you peeled your eyes from him to look up at the moon.

“Maybe we could just fly there instead,” you suggested.

“To the moon?” He shifted his gaze to yours as you looked back at him.

“Yeah,” you smiled, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“I like that,” he nodded. “We’ll go to the moon.”

“Perfect,” you mumbled into his hair. “We’ll go to the moon.”

“You’re cute when you’re shy.”

kim namjoon x reader genre: fluff word count: 586

HAND in hand, you walked down the city street, cars speeding by, headlights creating a constant stream of lights that lit up the man beside you. You and Namjoon opted for a casual Valentine’s Day date, deciding to check out an exhibit at one of your favorite museums.

As you both talked excitedly about your favorite pieces, you walked around the city with no destination in mind. And as much as you basked in the pale moonlight, and as much as you enjoyed his conversation, the thrill of him being near was more than enough to delight you.

Suddenly, Joon stopped talking about a painting he found particularly interesting as he dragged you to a street vendor who was selling tulips. As Namjoon picked up a red and pink bouquet wrapped in brown paper and tied together with some string, he took a shy glance at you, quickly looking away when your eyes met.

After buying the bouquet, he handed it to you with a dimply grin. “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.”

You let out a breathy laugh at his shy demeanor, leaning into him to kiss his cheek softly. “Thank you, Joonie.”

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he suddenly pointed across the street. You followed the direction of his finger, your eyes falling on a little diner.

“You hungry?” He asked, looking at you with a soft smile.

Nodding, you shrugged. “Starving actually.” His smile lifted just a bit more as he nodded back. Dragging you to the crosswalk, he pressed the walk button.

“I want some pie,” he said randomly.

Grinning, you squeezed his hand, peering at the cars. “What kind?”

He thought for a moment, going through the options in his head. “Cherry maybe? You have to share it with me, so whatever kind you want.” Your boyfriend turned to look at the light to see if it was changing yet and you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around him in a back hug, holding the bouquet at the center of his abdomen.

“Cherry sounds great,” you replied as the light changed. He started walking, dragging you along with him as you both repeatedly tripped over each other’s feet. “As long as there’s ice cream involved too.”

Namjoon chuckled, grabbing onto your forearms as he nodded. “Of course. À la mode.”

When you made it across the street, Namjoon was wearing a big smile as he pulled you around to walk next to his side, your arm still wrapped around his back, his snaking around your shoulders. Entering the café, it was mostly filled with groups of friends. It was loud and casual, and somehow absolutely perfect. Then again, maybe it was just the nearness of him.

Sitting across from one another in a booth, Joon quickly ordered the last piece of cherry pie, à la mode of course, smiling giddily. You took the opportunity to admire his gorgeous dimples again.

“You’re adorable,” you complimented him, a light blush gracing his cheeks as he looked down to the tabletop.

“I wonder if I’ll ever get used to you saying things like that,” he told you shyly, looking up at you.

“I hope not,” you reached across the table, taking his hand in yours and threading your fingers through his. “You’re cute when you’re shy.”

His bashful smile grew as he shook his head, bringing your hand to his lips to leave a kiss to your knuckles.

“You’re always the cutest,” he chuckled against the back of your hand. “I love you.”

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inkstaineddove · 4 years

Text

A Casual Affair

Ships: PruHun

Characters: Hungary, Prussia; Austria mentioned

Summary: Fed up with her treatment under Roderich and deciding to show him that she can't be controlled in a deeply personal way, Erzsébet goes to Königsberg with a proposition for Gilbert that she knows he can't refuse.

Königsberg, 1693.

Erzsébet shivered against the chill of the wind, wrapping her shawl tighter around her. The lands so far north were always chilly this time of year as the seasons changed. She had never grown used to it despite all her time in the area. Her knuckles tapped against the door. “Come on, open up!” She muttered to herself.

Thankfully, it was only a couple of seconds before a surprised Gilbert opened the door. He cocked his head to the side. “Erzsi? What are you doing here?”

She barreled her way past him, desperate to get in. “I’m freezing! Give me a second!” A fire was burning in the fireplace and she placed her icy hands in front of it. A sigh of relief escaped her. “Much better. I simply wanted to see you, is that so wrong?”

He carried a chair in from the dining room and sat it down by the fireplace for her. He returned the smile she gave him, feeling at ease the way he always did around her. “No, but you haven’t visited me in ages. I’m surprised you even remembered the way.” He chuckled, shifting comfortably in his own armchair.

“Well, I’ve spent enough time here. And, really, wherever you are, I’ll always be able to find you.” She stared at him with an intensity that made him blush and turn away. She giggled softly. “What? We both know it’s true.”

“I-I guess so. But when you put it like that!” Gilbert cleared his throat, feeling like an imbecile. He exhaled loudly through his nose, trying to calm down. The whole time, he felt her watching him. “Why are you really here? You didn’t come all this way just to embarrass me.”

Erzsébet laughed again. “Oh, but what if I did?” Seeing his eyeroll, she shrugged. “Fine, so I didn’t. I needed to see you, Gilbert, there’s been a lot going on back in Vienna. I just, I needed someone, and it’s always been you.” She began fidgeting with the skirt of her dress in her hands. Her head tilted low, she nervously watched him through her eyelashes.

His eyebrows knitted together in concern. He leaned towards her in his seat. “What? What’s been happening? Are you alright?” He began scanning over her body, trying to find any signs of distress. A protective fire began burning within him. “What do I have to do?”

A smile began to itch up the corners of her mouth. She forced it back down, inhaling dramatically. “Vienna is a horrible place; I was silly to believe it ever could become a substitute home. Ever since I’ve moved in, there’s been no stop to the abuse of my people. Roderich had led to me believe that my cooperation would mean some sort of improvement, but I let my,” she paused, thinking carefully of the phrasing so her plans wouldn’t backfire, “my guard down much too easily. And, forgetting how he treats my people, he’s become horrendous to me! Oh, when I first arrived, he put on the whole charm offensive. But now that he thinks he doesn’t have to worry about me, well, I can be bossed around and berated like anyone else! He’s inconsiderate, he cares little for me as only some little prize, and I’m insulted every day I have the misfortune of being around him.” She looked up at Gilbert, satisfaction at his disgusted expression burning besides her fury at her own mistreatment. “Everyday is all oppressive tyranny. How I’ve been forced to live, conforming myself to whatever his narrow expectations are. Any little joy I manage to find is a miracle and near impossible to keep.” Despite her intentions going in, she found she was speaking from the heart. None of what she said was fabricated.

While she had been speaking, Gilbert had begun pacing up and down the small living room. His emotions would not allow him to keep still. He moved frantically, shaking his head at everything she said. “That bastard! That son of a bitch! Who does he think he is? I don’t think he understands that you could beat him within an inch of his life. Why haven’t you already? I’ll do it! This is his thing, isn’t it? No wonder Bohemia started shit, this is who he is!” He turned on his heel, striding towards her. There was a fire ablaze in his eyes, one Erzsébet hadn’t seen in a while. He extended his hand out towards her. “Did you bring your sword? I’ll come back with you. That’ll get him to leave you alone. Between the two of us, he’ll stand no chance.”

She had accounted for his rage, but not quite like this. “No! Are you out of your mind? We’re not marching in and murdering him! I don’t care how satisfying it would be; at this point, it would only make my situation worse.” Erzsébet rose and moved towards him, taking his hand in hers. Relaxing, a smile eased its way onto her face. “To have you here for me is enough. I missed seeing you, you’ve been staying away too much.”

He was staring intently at her hand in his. His cheeks began burning hot again and he found it difficult to focus on anything but their proximity. Noticing the silence between them, he realized he was supposed to be speaking. “Ah, right! I come around when I can. You’re the one who hasn’t been putting in her share of the effort.” He smirked at her, relieved to be back in known territory. “If you really miss me so much, it wouldn’t hurt you to show it.”

“I would love to, but I’m not allowed to leave! He barely lets me go to Budapest, do you believe he would approve of me coming here? I’m expected to stay in my gilded cage and do whatever menial tasks he doles out. Not only that, but apparently Antonio is on the outs and that means I’ll be granted the pride of being some vapid trophy wife, but without the elevation the title would come with! And the staff he hired is not easily bribed, making everything even more difficult.”

“I have to give him credit. He really is determined to make life hell in every way imaginable.” Gilbert huffed. “And to do that to you, as if he doesn’t have some second marriage all lined up! To act like that’s a marriage, good Lord! As if you would ever want to be chained like that to him. Who does he think he is? God’s gift to women? The creep’s ego would suffocate anyone even if they were all the way in the New World! Please, Erzsi, you have to let me help you somehow. The thought of you being trapped, miserable in Vienna is unbearable.” His hand gently squeezed hers, surprisingly firm yet earnest.

At last she allowed herself to smile. “If you really mean it, I suppose there is one way you could help me.” She retook her spot in her seat, suppressing a chuckle when she saw him kneel besides her. She seized his hand again and began tracing circles on the back with her thumb. “You remember that one time, right after you became a duchy, when you found me in the woods? Not the time when you had to bandage me up, but when I was playing around?”

“When you were climbing trees and yelling that you were ‘the warrior queen of the forest?’ How could I forget, you looked wild and completely insane.” Gilbert smiled, remembering, before shaking it out of his head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

She ignored him, continuing. “And you appeared out of nowhere and told me that I’d better be willing to defend my kingdom, because you were coming to claim it for yourself.” Erzsébet laughed, remembering what happened next in vivid detail. “So, I jumped down from however high and landed right on you.”

“As soon as I could breathe again and saw you, I knew I didn’t want to fight you. Not then.” He felt himself getting transported right back to that day. His heart painfully flipped in his chest, as it had around her ever since.

“You asked me if a warrior queen had place besides her for a loyal knight. Then you,” she failed to suppress a giggle, “then you made me this little crown out of beautiful wildflowers and, when you put it on me, I couldn’t stop myself. I had to kiss you.” She licked her lips, smirking. Despite herself, she felt herself getting caught up in the emotions this memory always caused. “Well, not the only thing I had to do to you that day.”

His eyes were focused on her mouth. “We never talked about it afterwards.” His voice was hoarse, but he strangely found he didn’t care. His desperation was apparent, but what good would hiding it do now? They both knew what they knew.

“We’re talking about it now. Doesn’t this count?” She caressed his cheek and he leaned into her touch, eyes closing. “I didn’t wish to bring it up and risk ruining everything. How could I risk losing my best friend? You mean too much to me.”

Something within him stirred. He sighed, never before knowing such a peace as this. “Erzsi, I-” He stopped himself. Pieces began moving into place in his mind. Why bring up that day now, after telling him about the horrible situation she was facing at home? With the assurance that there was one way he could help her, one way that led to this. He stiffened and leaned away. “What are you trying to do?” His voice hardened, trying to distance himself from his prior feelings.

That took her aback. There was the response she hadn’t accounted for – that he would grow suspicious and begin to figure things out. She opened her mouth, considered lying, and closed it. The idea of it brought forth unreasonable guilt. She retracted her hand and set it lamely in her lap. “Roderich believes he can control every aspect of my life until some day I conform to his will completely. If he needs a perfect doll of a wife for ‘appearances,’ or whatever bullshit he claims, then I want him to know that can never happen. I’ll never be his to control.” Erzsébet couldn’t meet his gaze, staring purposefully out the window.

“And that would be done by having some salacious affair with me?”

She weakly nodded her head.

“So, you wanted to use me?” The hurt was clear in his voice. Out the corner of her eye, she watched him get up and stand on the opposite side of the room from her. Silence hung over them until Gilbert managed to speak again, this time sounding bitter. “Did you ever stop to consider how I would feel? I’m not some dumb oaf, Erzsi, I’ve been cursed with my own thoughts and feelings too.”

“Of course I did! That’s the whole reason why I asked you in the first place!” She could look him in the eyes now that her shame had been replaced with frustration. “You can’t really believe that I wouldn’t think of you.”

“Like hell I can! What evidence is there otherwise? What do you need me for? All you need is a body; you don’t have to hurt me while you’re trying to hurt Roderich!” He crossed his arms over his chest and scoffed. “You had a whole thing prepared and you knew exactly what would work. What a moron I am. I should’ve noticed sooner.”

Erzsébet rolled her eyes. “How could I ask anyone? It had to be you, Gil! Till the end of eternity, it will be!” She noticed his surprise but was too determined to prove him wrong to realize she’d won. She rose, striding over towards him. “Who else could I trust with this? Fuck Roderich! Nothing I do will ever matter to him, but I need some measly form of joy! Do you want me to live the rest of my life in misery under him? If it upsets him, wonderful! Then he understands how it feels. But I need something to give me a happiness that can only be found outside myself. And, goddammit, can’t you understand that you’re the only one who ever could?”

Before she knew it, his hands were cupping her cheeks and his lips were crashing against hers. Greedy, she pulled him closer to her. There it was, the rush of being alive, long since forgotten since she’d been kept away from every battlefield and away from her home, her heart. Yet, how different it was! This felt new, felt exciting, like the stuff bards sung and poets wrote obsessively about. She grabbed a fistful of his hair in her hands. Closer, she needed him closer. Any distance between them would be a travesty.

Gilbert, seemingly sensing her wishes, hoisted her up into his arms. Euphoria filled him. He spared a moment to wonder how long since that first day he had dreamed of this, then scolded himself for even stepping away from the present for a second. How could he when this was reality? There was nothing in his mind that could rival this, no thoughts that needed to be considered now. His breathing hitched, feeling her hand through thick wool. He buried his face in her neck, trying his best to remain collected.

“What’s the point in staying out here? We both know where this is heading,” she growled in his ear. Who was he to disobey? With perhaps too much eagerness, he hustled them towards the bedroom, slamming it shut behind them with his foot.

---

Gilbert stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t dare to look besides him, fearing that if he did, Erzsébet would be gone and this would prove to all be a dream. Still, he groped around the bed until he found her hand and took it in his. A dazed grin overtook his face and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“Are you okay? My God, please don’t tell me I broke you.” He felt her shift besides him, propping herself up on her elbow so she could watch him. She brushed the hair out of his face with her fingers. “And here I was about to tell you you’re much better than you were the last time.”

He collected himself, managing to calm down enough to answer her. He rolled over so he was facing her, his satisfied little smile never once leaving him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been better.” He took hold of her wrist and kissed her palm. “Have I ever mentioned to you how incredible you are? I’ve always been in awe of you.”

She rolled her eyes and couldn’t stop herself from snorting. “You haven’t. I think that’s the aftereffects of everything getting to your head.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Though, who am I to complain? A compliment is a compliment.”

Gilbert smiled up at her, lazy and with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. “So, how do you propose we use this against Roderich? Start flaunting what he can never have in his face?” He was tracing circles along her thigh, desperate still to let his fingers learn every inch of her.

“Oddly enough, I hadn’t considered that. It might be outrageous enough to work. Wait! I thought you were against that. What changed your mind?”

He knew there was a true answer to that question, but he knew it was buried so deep that he would never let himself think it. “If it was anyone else, then I would have my objections and I could never go back on them. But, somehow, you always manage to be the exception to my rules. If it’s for you, it’s not really being used, is it? You’ve always been different.” He chuckled softly, knowing that what he said was as close to the truth as he could get. “What’s our battle plans, general?”

How could she focus on revenge right now? “Not tonight. I don’t want to give him another thought.” Erzsébet nestled in, claiming his chest as her pillow. She couldn’t stop smiling when his arm draped lazily around her waist. “Tonight, I just want to enjoy this.” She gently chided herself for any of her old fears. This didn’t feel like the desecration of the old, but the beginning of something new, something to enjoy as much as what it replaced. If not perfect bliss, then this would do more than suffice. It was better than what she had hoped for, what she had even allowed herself to believe possible. Personal joy could be found in captivity, if only she had the right person alongside her.

#hello im back from self-imposed hiatus #aph prussia #hws prussia #aph hungary #hws hungary #pruhun #aph pruhun #hws pruhun #hetalia #hetalia fanfiction #hws fanfic #aph fanfic #hws fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #aph fanfiction #i just *chefs kiss* love these two

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starberry-cupcake · 4 years

Note

For the Cats asks, Mr. Mistoffelees and Macavity? :D

Yay! ♥

Mr Mistoffelees: Was there anything you’ve ever done that you’ve thought would be scary and turned out to be awesome?

A lot of things. I think the most rewarding lately was taking the leap and teaching my own classes, which is a constant struggle with anxiety but gave me a lot of happy moments and I really enjoy teaching.

Macavity: What is your pettiest revenge story?

I don’t know if this works but, here goes. It may end up as a long story, sorry about that.

I started getting involved in the anime/manga fandom here in my country from a very early age. From the year 2000, and up until early 2010, more or less, the anime/manga fandom in Argentina was mostly centered in Buenos Aires city and unofficially moderated/influenced by a publisher (called Ivrea, it has now houses in Spain and other countries) which had a magazine (which started as a fanzine and moved on to become the biggest source of information in the fandom) and was the only publishing house that released manga at the time.

It was managed mostly by men, most of whom were at the time in their 20s and 30s, and they had a huge reach in the fandom, including the managing of conventions, the producing of cosplay contests and many more things. Because of their influence and actions, the environment was very sexist, racist, homophobic, transphobic and fatphobic, to the point in which men were encouraged to physically assault female cosplayers on stage by throwing things at them (there are videos of a con in 2000 with evidence of this) or aggressively shouting and threatening male cosplayers that weren’t “manly” enough for their characters, among other things.

This attitude went beyond convention spaces when the magazine started taking pictures of cosplayers and convention goers and, without their consent, publishing them with offensive commentary underneath, like really really offensive stuff. This, of course, destroyed cosplayers’ self esteem, because they became the laughing stock of the entire fandom by being featured like that in the most important communication medium for the fandom at the time.

At the same time, they were very predatory towards young girls. I didn’t see it like I do today because being a teenager myself, I didn’t understand the level of unsafe and illegal most of this was. I didn’t do cosplay, because I knew that my body would be, at the very very least, humiliated publicly by these people, but I witnessed and heard stories from friends, family and other people whose experiences were recorded in print or video forever. For example, one of the most famous cases was when, framed by the release of a manga, they hosted a contest of “school girls” in which girls had to send their “provocative” photos in uniform and one would be chosen by the staff as a winner. Said winner was 17 at the time of her selection and her photos were published in the magazine, alongside an interview with very compromising questions for a minor to answer.

Believe it or not, all of this was normalized and nobody bat an eyelash, because the fandom at the time was super underground and cosplay wasn’t as developed as it is now. We were all weird kids with their weird comics, so nobody really paid attention to what was going on and those of us who were too young just took it as it was, because these men, who were twice our age, were setting the rules and it was unsafe to speak up.

When I turned 20, I grew tired of this. I was A LOT more patient than I am now, mind you, because I was still young and I hadn’t been exposed to all the learning experiences as I am now. I was a lot more patient but I was also tired of the bullshit.

What ended up breaking me was that the magazine had a q & a section in which people sent emails and the editor in chief (who still is the editor in chief, still working there and still has his incel followers kissing his ass) responded. I started seeing many young girls, the age that I was when I started, sending emails asking them to stop that behavior. And the guy took advantage of his power and his age and ripped them to shreds with his answers. He made them seem silly and ignorant by using their inexperienced forms of expressing themselves against them and making fun. He took advantage of his position of power to ridicule the young girls who were being either bullied into humiliating and aggressive degrees, if they were “ugly” or stalked, assaulted and groomed if they were “pretty”.

And that was the last straw for me. That was what ultimately made me lose my shit.

So, with a lot more patience than I would have now, I wrote my own email. I was 20 at the time, like I said, I was in college studying to become an editor, which this guy was, and I was becoming more professionally aware of all the things they had done throughout my teenage years that were illegal (more than what I’m recounting here).

But I knew that if I was upset in my wording, if I gave them the chance to paint me as the “hysteric feminist” archetype, I wasn’t going to get anything out of it. So I did what I do best, I used the pettiest most fake-respectful wording I could and laid down how harmful as all fuck their behavior was. I used their ego against them by acting neutral, never showing the absolute lack of respect I felt, in a way in which I left them no choice that if my email was published and responded, and they tried with me the same bullshit they did with other girls, they would look like assholes.

My email was published and responded. It was the LAST EVER email published and responded, featured in the last ever magazine released. I was the last word before they closed the magazine down. It was vaguely responded with a “you’re somewhat right but…*excuses*” and the magazine was closed for good.

They didn’t close it down because of me, there are a lot of other legal bullshit they were doing which pushed them to close. Whether the fact that my email laid down aspects that could lead to law suits, and showed that the bullied kids of years back where growing up and learning that all their shady shit was not ok added to the reasons to stop the magazine, along with that other legal stuff, I can’t know for sure. Still, it made me feel somewhat vindicated and I have the feeling that, at least, I tried. I was too young and too patient, more than I should have been, but I’m still happy that I did what I did and spoke up for those other girls who were being treated like shit.

Today, the publisher still works and is still very shady, although not as blatantly. They had the advantage of being at the right moment in the right place to consolidate themselves and therefore do things they couldn’t have done in other spaces where their shady predatory behavior was seen by people who could have taken action against them, and not teenagers in a fandom.

There were talks about the magazine coming back, and I went to the facebook thread of that and laid it all out, without the patience my 20 yo self had. So far, they haven’t been back and if they are, I’m not remaining silent.

#bewareofitalics #ask #ask meme thingy #long post #sorry for the long story!#I was the 'im gonna end this man's whole career' meme

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velasnyx · 5 years

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Emaziska Naruto AU Ch. 10

Another week passed and I was finally cleared to go on missions again. It was torture sitting around doing nothing. It gives me too much time for my mind to wander. I was just in luck too. I was receiving a mission immediately. I was so relieved to be getting out of the village. I made my way to the Hokage’s office with haste. In the hall, I passed by the Skye girl. I haven’t really seen her since the training incident. Only when I’d check up on her every now and then but that was from afar. “Hey,” she said. “Hey”. We fell silent. I’m not good at small talk. I suppose I should ask how she is. “Are you doing alright?” I asked. “Yeah, I’ve been doing okay,” she answered. Another bout of awkward silence. Do I leave? Do I bring something else up? How can I bring up another topic when I’m bad at social interactions? “You got a mission?” she asked. “Yes. What about you?”. “Yeah. I’m on the way to briefing,” she said. I’m on the way to briefing. No. God NO. Please, not again. “Well, good luck on your mission,” I said. “Ditto”. We went our separate ways.

I stood before the doors. I was hoping I wouldn’t see her in that room. I opened the door. There were a quite a few people in the room. Diego Sensei, Wright, Mia, Adrian, and… her. Dammit, she is here. I walked in and stood with the others before Lady Hokage. “Now that you’re all here, let’s begin the briefing. There are multiple ninja from the Hidden Mist making their way here. To get here, they’ll have to cross Uzumaki Bridge. That is where you’ll intercept them. Among the ninja, is Jack Hammer. Your mission is to assassinate him. Mia and Diego are assigned as leaders. You will follow their orders. Do NOT disobey them. This is a very dangerous mission. Any mistake could be fatal,” Lady Third said. Jack Hammer, the second deadliest ninja from the Hidden Mist. “What about the others?” Wright asked. “I wouldn’t leave them alive but they aren’t the priority. If you can kill them, then do so,” she answered. We nodded. “Any of other questions?”. We stayed silent. “Very well. Take your leave quickly. Time is of the essence,” she said.

“Alright, let’s get going. It’s a long way to the bridge,” Mia said. We started walking from the village gate. “Franziska”. Adrian had made her way over to me. We were in Team 8 together. “It’s been a while,” she said. I cut off contact from my old team. Better off that way. “It has”. She looked a bit nervous. Adrian was always very shy and insecure. It seems she hasn’t improved on that. “I heard about what happened in your last mission,” I cut off before she could say anything else. “Yes, it seems the whole village did as well,” I said, coldly. She frowned and looked at the ground. “I uh… I was worried about you”. “You shouldn’t waste your time worrying about me,” I said.

I watched Adrian and Franziska. What is with her? She just keeps shutting Adrian down for no reason. Adrian forced a smile and chuckled. “Heh. You’re right. You always get up when you’re knocked down. It was silly of me to worry,” she said. Franziska stayed silent. Adrian slowed down a bit, gaining distance from Franziska. Geez, she’s really cold. More so than I thought. I caught of glance of Adrian’s face. She looked hurt. I felt bad for her. I walked over to her. “Hey, you okay?”. I must’ve startled cuz she started to stumble with her words. “Yo, chill. Take a breath,” I said. She frowned and took a second to gather herself. “Yeah, I’m okay”. “You just let her talk to you like that?” I asked. “She’s always been like that,” Adrian said. Like what? A dick? “That’s no excuse. You’re her teammate, not some rando,” I said. “Yeah, well, sometimes I can be annoying so it makes sense”. How could she just make excuses for her? Her behaviour is unacceptable. I didn’t want to stay on this topic. “So, you were on Diego’s team with Franziska,” I said. Adrian nodded. “That must’ve been interesting”. She chuckled. “Yeah. Especially with Klavier. We had an interesting dynamic. You trained under Gumshoe, right?”. I nodded. “I remember seeing you at the Chunin exams. You went against Fran. I still can’t believe you beat her”. Heh. Her and Maya have completely different views of how that fight ended. “Well, technically I lost,” I said. “Well, you forfeited. But, you had her cornered. You would’ve won”. I shrugged. “Eh, I still became a chunin so I’m not complaining,” I said. Winning was never the end goal. Just to be the best version of me I can be.

“Listen, I’ll only tell you again once, don’t waste your time on me. I don’t need it,” Franziska said, harshly. Adrian’s head dropped in shame. What’s her problem? I’m getting sick of this. “Oi, what’s your problem? You ever heard of mutual respect?” I said, calmly. Franziska glared at me. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, Skye girl,” she hissed. I rolled up eyes and stuffed my hands on my pockets. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Ema. Get it memorized”. “Whatever. Just mind your own business”. Jeez, she’s really ticking me off. Not enough to shake my demeanor, though. “This is my business. This became everyone’s business once you started mistreating our comrade. We were all chosen for this mission for one reason: we know how to do our jobs and we do it damn good. That means we’re all in the same level here. Which gives you no right to talk down to her like that,” I said. “Since when did you care?” Franziska said. I scoffed. “I keep to myself most of the time but don’t think I don’t know the difference between right and wrong. I highly suggest you learn the difference”. She looked furious. “Who do you think you are?” she said. “I could say the same to you,” I shot back. “Enough, you two. We’re wasting time,” Mia said. “Mind your own business!” Franziska sneered. “Do I need to have Ema repeat her speech? Break it off and focus on the mission,” Mia responded. Franziska walked over to Mia, furious. They were in a staredown. “Don’t let your ego get the best of you like it did with your father. It’s not appealing,” Mia said. “You want to say that again?!”. Franziska had activated her Sharingan. She really wants to fight? She’s wasting our time. Mia leaned in. “You don’t intimidate me, Franziska. You don’t want to fight me. You know how this will end. Even with the Sharingan, you know can’t win against me,” Mia said. Jeez, Franziska is dealing with the wrong person. She must’ve never seen Mia when she’s serious. It’s super scary. “You want to test that out?” Franziska asked. Oh God, why would she say that? “Go ahead and try”. At this point they’ll kill each other. We all watched, waiting to see what would happen. “Sensei, we need to get going if we want to intercept Hammer at the bridge,” Phoenix said to Mia. The remained in their staredown. “You heard him, Franziska. So what’ll it be?” Mia sneered. Franziska stepped back. Mia turned her back and started walking. I saw Franziska Fran a kunai and just like that she lunged at Mia. She really was attacking her. I can’t believe this. I gotta stop her. My shadow zoomed toward her. Mia disappeared. I stopped my shadow. She appeared behind Franziska. Mia twisted Franziska’s arm to hold her own kunai at the back of her neck. “We have a mission to complete. This is a waste of time. Keep yourself in line. If you have me do it for you, it won’t be pretty. Do I make myself clear?” Mia said, in an intimidating tone. Franziska stayed silent. “Do I make myself clear?” Mia repeated, sounding more agitated. “Crystal”. She let Franziska go. “Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time”.

Night fell as we reached about halfway to the bridge. “We’ll rest here for the night. I’ll take first watch,” Mia said. We made a campfire and situated ourselves around it. Mia and Diego stood a couple feet away. They were talking about something I couldn’t hear. Franziska stood in the trees above us. “Thank you… for earlier,” a meek voice said. Adrian sat down next to me. “Huh? Oh, no need to thank me. I just wanted to speak my mind,” I said. She chuckled. “You don’t have to act so humble”. I shrugged. Phoenix laughed. “How can you be so much like Lana but at the same time be so different?” he said. I raised a brow at him. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. “Don’t worry. I’m just saying you got all her food traits. Like her sense of justice and determination. You’re just less… tense”. I chuckled. “I’ll take it”. “We should rest for tomorrow. We’re gonna have to make up for today,” Phoenix said. “I’ll keep watch. I’m not too tired yet,” I said.

Adrian and Phoenix were out cold. It’s been a couple hours and I’m still not very tired. Not that it matters. I haven’t been sleeping well anyway. I locked my hands together behind my head and laid down on the ground. I watched the the sky through the little spaces between the leaves. I could see stars. Well, just barely. But there was something I COULD see clearly. Franziska was still up in the trees.I wonder if she’s sleeping up there. As if she read my thoughts, she looked down at me. Our eyes met. She had a hateful look in her eyes. That didn’t intimidate me. I have a feeling she isn’t used to that. She looked away again. Tch. What a pain. What is she even doing up there? What do I care? Maybe it’s cuz I set her off. Kinda old to be acting like that when someone calls you out on your bullshit. She better be ready for tomorrow. If she’s not well rested she’ll screw herself.

An hour’s past and she’s still up in that tree. God dammit, she is a pain. I got up and jumped up to the trees. “What do you want?”. I sucked my teeth in annoyance. Jesus, why did I even bother coming up here? “What are you doing up here?” I asked. “Came up here to be by myself. Take a hint,” she replied. I rolled my eyes. Looking up, I noticed she had a full view of the sky. “You have a better view of the stars than me. I’m envious,” I said. She sighed. “If you want to look at the stars, you can stay up here. Just stay quiet,” Franziska said. I smirked. “Heh, I can do that”. I laid down on the log and interlocked my hands behind my head. This was rather relaxing. Laying down, watching the stars with peace and quiet. “I’m sorry”. And there it goes. “For what?” I asked. “My behaviour earlier. That was unacceptable”. So now you have a sense of right and wrong? It won’t do anything for you now. At least not with me and definitely not with Mia. “I’m not the one you should apologize to,” I said. She may have lashed out at me but I’m not the one she needs to apologize to. Her apology doesn’t mean a thing to me. I wasn’t bothered by our confrontation. Adrian was the one who got hurt. And it seems like Franziska means a lot more to Adrian than she does to me. She’s just another comrade. “I suppose you’re right”. “Mm”. This chick is a real mystery. I don’t get it. What’s her deal? “She was on your old team, right?” I asked. “Yes, that’s right”. “Did something happen between you two? Like a fight or something?”. She shook her head. Ugh, so she treats her like that for no reason. That’s real shitty. I sat up and faced her. “Then why do you treat her like that? Especially since she obviously cares about you,” I said. She frowned. I guess she really feels about this. She should. But she’ll probably turn around and do the same shit again. “I uh… I just don’t do relationships”. I rolled my eyes. “So, you’re bad at picking up chicks. What does that have to do with how you treat Adrian like shit?” I said. She was silent. Uh, I don’t got all night. “No, I mean any kind of relationship”. I raised a brow. “Why?” I asked. She seemed hesitant to answer. “Because, I’ll only become a burden. Being someone to protect, that weighs heavy on me. I don’t need people getting hurt because of me. If I got no ties, then everyone will be safe,” Franziska said. I see. That’s why she was so ticked off about me getting the mark. She thinks as if it’s her fault rather than her father’s or mine. So that’s how she thinks. “That’s fucking stupid,” I said. “Well, you asked”. “That feeling of wanting to protect someone, the feeling you want to avoid, that is what binds us together. It’s a motivation that makes a shinobi better. It’s what makes the Hidden Leaf strong. The Will of Fire,” I said. I remember mom and dad being strong believers of the Will of Fire. I guess they passed that down to me. If there’s anything I’d keep to remind me of them, it’s that. She stayed silent, looking as if she was thinking about something. I laid back down and watched the stars.

#emaziska #ema skye #franziska von karma #ace attorney naruto au #emaziska naruto au

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flowingwithself · 3 years

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July 5, 2021 Journal Entry

I feel spiritually confused. I feel like I've gone 20 steps backwards in my progress. Maybe I'm just being too hard on myself though. That's very likely.

I wonder why I 'm "separated" from that euphoria. I try to close the gap but I keep not reaching it, and it feels like I get further and further away... I hear all sorts of things you're supposed to do like eat better food, exercise, do yoga, do breathing exercises, meditate, go out in nature, etc. It feels like I'm just not doing enough. My sleep schedule is appalling. I have no exercise or even stretching routine. I barely manage to brush my teeth and take my meds everyday. I've gotten better at eating, though...I guess one thing at a time... but I should really exercise/stretch my leg at the very least everyday. I've done well about avoiding toxins like alcohol, caffeine, and nicotine. I'm more conscious about what I put in my body. I need to be more conscious about how certain things make me feel...

A friend asked me what my "end goal" was, like where I was set to end up in 5, 10, 20 years or whatever, right... Maybe he meant like "what do you see coming out of Bartending?" you know. I just don't have a clear answer for that. I said "eventually, I die, along the way though I hope to live a life with few regrets, and to live it happily." Because what am I supposed to say? Everything about the physical reality we perceive is an illusion. How can I then find some sort of deep, personal meaning in a "goal" like "I want to develop AI to solve (insert problem here)" or "I want to make (insert income amount here)."

Even something more noble like "I want to help decrease homelessness," "I want to bring awareness to the ocean's destruction," "I want to educate children to be healthy despite a failing education system," the list can go on and on and on and on and on, because so many problems exist in this world that I could only ever patch up a hole in the barrel while another hole pops open. The unending struggle is absurd. I've decided that instead of going all-in on a problem in the world and it being maybe slightly impactful (in the short-term), I'll first test out working on myself, and just letting things happen. If I can successfully become a "high being" without falling into egotistical desires and delusions, I'm convinced I can make all the "change" I want to see in the world.

The point of humanity is not to endlessly optimize, crash, optimize, crash.

That can't be all there is to it.

In our current stage of evolution we seem to be in a buffering phase. No amount of technology is going to end the buffering, no amount of space travel or even time travel could end our bullshit. This is why at the end of the day, I find society's mainstream pursuits for progress in vain. Has history taught us nothing? Has evolution shown us nothing? We can't step outside ourselves for 2 seconds to realize the absolutely grotesque monkey-thing that we are.

I guess that's pretty harsh, but basically, what I mean to say is that no one remembers how we're actually just acting in a play, we're really the actors behind these characters we play. The play is just on repeat [hence history repeating itself because we forgot]. It's an endless cycle we've trapped ourselves into. And now, we're demoted to playing these characters in this silly play, play pretending wars and innovations and heroic acts that save the day, stuck in our characters because we were taught only to method act from birth. And method act we have!

So, what is my end goal? Do I want to develop AI, do I want to earn a high salary, do I want to buy a Porsche and vacation in the Bahamas and drink alcohol every weekend to escape the actual hell I chose to put myself through every week? Do I value struggling? The effort put in to achieve goals? I would rather burn in hell than waste away struggling and sweating to achieve a goal that is the ghost of a true virtue, a ghost of the truth. The truth is pure Love, the truth is no fear, the truth is beyond this material world, it's just outside of ourselves and yet so few people seem to reach it!!

It blows my mind, but I am starting to realize how difficult this spiritual path is. Most people don't get it. I like to believe that they get it [when I interact with them], but it will be a waste of my time to try and find people who "get it" and chat it up because there are no words to describe the truth anyway. You might as well talk to anyone. Words have no meaning beyond the little play we play.

Well, that's not entirely true, I mean, it's true words have no meaning, but they have a function. So what I mean to say is that whoever's mouth words come out, it makes no difference. They are functional. And it's true that they are spell-like....they are the original spells. I've experienced this first-hand. Every single action of ours, every single word we say and hear, every thought we think, is a spell, either freeing us or entrapping us. And it's slightly terrifying to think about.

I am still confused. I still feel susceptible to making mistakes (well obviously), I mean like, susceptible to being controlled, perhaps. Controlled by anything outside of myself, outside of God.

I remember Bekk telling me about his ego-death moment, where he looked at his friend and it took him a long while to figure out his friend was looking at a "him," as in, like, he was a being that can be perceived. I remembered hearing that and thinking "how cute," because I try to practice that "non-self awareness" often. My ego-death experience was when I got high and went through the process of my death, the death of who I call myself, my personality/mind/body/soul, and then once I died, I merged into the whole, the entire One. My conscious awareness merged with the Divine, and I laughed blissfully that the ego I call myself will die! I also experienced not having awareness of myself existing when my partner at the time said "I see a very high girl" and it didn't phase me that I had no awareness of myself, because I was too blissed out, I forgot I was a high girl. That was an after-thought in comparison to the pure bliss I was in, merging with the Divine. I am the Divine. I am not Lydia. I mean, I am for now, in this tiny, tiny space and time matrix that experiences life from the perspective of "Lydia." But Lydia comes and goes. I am not just Lydia. Lydia is simply an expression of myself.

So what is my "end-goal"? At this point maybe I should say something like "merging with the Divine" but that would be something my ego would say. Instead, maybe I would say "to express myself as fully as I am able to through Lydia," which comes with its own struggles, and in this case, I'd be happy to value struggling.

*I am Loving-Awareness.*

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itsme-isfp · 6 years

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Friendship: ENTP + ISFP

So here’s the thing: my best friend is an ENTP. We share a mutual love of MBTI but haven’t been able to find much out there on the internet about friends of our personality types. Occasionally we’ll come across the “odd MBTI pairs that work” posts that throw us together, but otherwise there doesn’t seem to be much love for the ENTP + ISFP pairing, or even intuitive + sensor pairings in general. In light of this, we thought it would be fun to write some content of our own! We sat down for a couple of hours came up with some thoughts about why our friendship works so well (also it was fun to giggle and appreciate each other).

(For those who are curious, we’re an ISFP female, 3w4 and ENTP male, 8w7. ENTP blogs @theminiatureguy)

Strengths

ENTP: FUN BUDDIES! This ain't no STJ pair over here. We love exploring new places, experiences, and fun times! ISFP is especially good at helping me with this. She’ll constantly suggest new ideas (her new thing is food) for me to try that I wouldn't think to consider trying.

I mean this is just a benefit for me, but she is great with clothing, hair, and looking sharp - which is an area where I’m 100% clueless - so that’s a huge perk.

ISFP: We’re partners in crime. I like to think we’re the dream team in terms of having great ideas and turning them into reality. He’s good at coming up with novel solutions. I’m able to take his ideas and go, okay, how do we make this happen? One of the most rewarding things we do is plan social events together. He’s great at coming up with a concept and getting people together. I’m the one who makes sure that the other little details get taken care of.

ENTP: We both are open minded on our conversations. When we are challenged on our opinions or beliefs we generally are open minded to consider the other’s ideas or opinions.

We have taken the time to really learn and understand each other. We care about the other enough that we constantly seek to learn and understand each other better and better. Because of this we have learned how to care for each other in ways that are uniquely special and meaningful to each other. I’ve learned to pick up on when she needs a gentle back rub or arm touch to remind her everything’s okay and to provide meaningful reminders of her worth when she’s stressed, and to offer full on long secure cuddles with silence when she’s really tired out and just needs to recuperate. She’s in turn picked up on reminding me that I am useful and do have value even when I feel I’ve fallen short.

ISFP: Adding to this, I really appreciate how thoughtful ENTP can be. Whether it’s asking me if I need some time alone to process, or reminding me to eat (because I forget, all the time). He goes out of his way to be in tune with what’s going on in my life and watch out for me. His insatiable thirst for knowledge definitely works in my favor because he’s always asking questions and working to understand me better :) I really enjoy that he trusts me and lets me into places of his mind and heart that he doesn’t share with other people. He won’t say this, but he deserves someone to have his back and support him too.

ENTP: We both bring strengths to the relationship that aren’t anywhere on the other person’s radar. She reminds me almost constantly to consider things from a spiritual or emotional view that I will blow past 9/10 times. This is a huge blessing for me as it helps me to really focus and center myself on what really matters. I like to think that I offer some creative problem solving and critical reasoning but you’d have to ask her to find out if that’s true or just my ego speaking ;)

ISFP: Nah, I totally agree with this. ENTP is great at recognizing when I’m stuck inside my head or experiencing tunnel vision in regard to how I’m handling my emotions or my outlook on my circumstances. He’s unafraid to call me out on it and explain why my thinking is irrational. He also has my back in the area of romantic attachments and is able to pick up on potential problems much faster than me - he sees things I overlook when I rely on my feelings.

ENTP: I don’t know if this is an Fi thing, but she loves and cares for me in a unique way no one else really does. It’s refreshing how caring and understanding she can be in a really unobtrusive way. I’ve had several other close friends, even higher Fe users like INFJ and ENFJ, but none of them really love in a way that’s not kinda pushy. When INFJ says “I’ll be here if you need me” it feels weird and standoffish, but when my ISFP palie says the same thing I know she’s really there for me.

Laughter, there’s a lot of laughter and laughter is good. There are other friendships where things aren’t nearly as loose or free to be silly and funny and having that with her is really a huge blessing. Especially when you consider that we both love to laugh and have a good time snickering or just being plain silly.

ISFP: Oh yeah, we’re silly and sassy all the time. It’s one of the great perks of being no filter buddies. We goof off and tease each other constantly. Things like having inside jokes about other people behind their backs or making faces and snickering at each other in serious meetings. He makes life fun!

ENTP: People seem to think ISFPs are simple or dumber than other types but lemme tell you, this gal is wicked smart. I’m often flabbergasted by her ability to add a simple “what about this?” to whatever I’m considering that makes total sense and drastically enhances whatever plan I was considering.

Struggles

ENTP: Our senses of humor can be quite different at times. Whereas mine tends to be based on relating different concepts, or turning words around to play with them, hers tends to be more based on sounds or instances in our environment.

ISFP: Yeah, we tend to miss each other in the moment sometimes. I think most of it relates to us just being so different in how we perceive the world around us and process information. His need to “understand all the things now!” can be a little too intense for me. I frustrate him when I’m quiet during a rough time and bottle up my thoughts and feelings. Just being real here; we don’t have that picture perfect friendship where we’re 100% in tune all the time and there’s never ever conflict. We do fight and hurt each other sometimes. The good news is that these fights are pretty far and few between - and we do our best to look out for each other, which means that we talk through misunderstandings before they blow up into something bigger.

Why it works

ISFP: We’ve made a mutual commitment to be 100% honest with each other. Which, in the moment means we’re free to spout out whatever goofy or snarky thoughts come into our heads, but also gives us the freedom during serious talks to call each other out on our bullshit in a loving way.

ENTP here now, but no filter buddies is like the best thing ever! I’m used to constantly biting my tongue or holding thoughts back because they tend to be rude or out of place to most people but she does a great job at accepting, and often joining in my goofy/random/weird thoughts. As an added bonus, no-filter buddies means we don’t have to worry about hidden meanings or assumptions, we can just up and ask if something is wrong and trust for the truth.

ISFP: We defined the relationship early on, which gives us the basis to set boundaries and know what to expect from each other. ENTP and I aren’t dating and don’t intend to be romantically involved any time in the future. Agreeing that we want to keep things platonic early on has been very, very helpful. I don’t have to worry about accidentally leading him on, or reading too much into every little thing he says.

ENTP: We accept each other unconditionally, never letting a mistake or flaw of the other discredit them from our love/acceptance.

ISFP: We work through conflict and try to talk it through sooner than later. The purpose is to understand why it happened, how the other person was affected, and how we can best support each other going forward. This one is the most challenging for me, because I like to have time and space to process strong emotions, while ENTP prefers to know what is going on right away and resolve things as quickly as possible.

But yeah, what ENTP said about unconditional acceptance is huge. Most of the time we disagree, it’s just because we’re looking at things differently. Having this mindset is so helpful because it forces us to slow down and listen...and often find that we’re actually on the same page after all. In the end, whether or not we always agree on something, we put the friendship first. Having him in my life is more important than having the picture-perfect bestie, although I couldn’t ask anyone better. :)

#mbti #best buddies #friendship #isfp #entp #isfp personality #entp personality

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powerovernothing · 7 years

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Different anon here: because I'm lame I crack myself up thinking of an au where yondu survives and travels with the guardians, getting to know them and slowly becoming more and mores done with his sons weird taste in friends.

Oh my, isn’t this a rare treat, and something that completely puts a massive smile on my face! To go from writing a super fun meta for one nice Anon based around our local space dad…and then to turn around and see that another lovely Anon has wandered into my askbox to discuss more Yondu things?

And not only that, but also share with me an adorable headcanon of him and his son post Vol 2 where everything is good and happy and nothing sad ever happened no matter what James Gunn tries to make us believe?

Oh, I am going to have a fun time with this~

(Lots of Yondad meta and headcanon under the cut, as well as a small drabble where Yondu and Drax get along and embarrass Peter! Prepare for feelings as well as silly things!)

First off, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. The Guardians of the Galaxy fandom is just absolutely and all around lovely, and they certainly know their way to my heart with really great ideas coming from their really awesome minds!

Honestly, how could you not just adore this fandom and the people within it?!

Ah, but regardless! Hello there different, but equally as great, Yondu Anon! (Or would you rather me call you Yondad!Anon instead? Seems kind of fitting, yeah?) And thank you very much for popping into my askbox! Seeing all these messages from you guys just really makes my days all the more brighter; you just have no idea!

But there I go, getting off track; for shame! Anyway, you said that you make yourself giggle over a scenario where Yondu travels full time with Peter and his Guardian family after the events of the second film, and that he just, slowly but surely, becomes even more done with his son’s very bizarre choice of friends the more and more he gets to know them?

And, on top of everything, you somehow actually consider that idea to be lame?

Oh, but my dear Yondad friend! That is where you are sadly mistaken, because I don’t think that that idea is lame whatsoever! In fact, I think that it’s a very wonderful idea actually! And one that I, too, often think about in terms of post Vol 2 headcanons – be it silly or cute or just somewhere in between!

And actually, reading over your message reminded me of various ideas that me and my friend @packratofdenialism had in regards to Yondu’s relationship with the Guardians. The ones that come to mind first and foremost being that, other than Rocket and Groot, it would probably be Drax that Yondu would end up having the best kind of friendship with, before anyone else in the group.

And why him of all people, you may be wondering, and not someone like Mantis, considering that she is basically in some ways Peters’ adoptive sister, and Yondu has a thing for strays?

Well, honestly, the reasoning behind this is that Yondu and Drax are actually rather similar. Both warriors/killers with their own sense of honor, both fathers in their own right, both pretty bad with emotions, and yet ends up, after a massive tragedy, accepting a new family…as well as various others I’m probably not remembering.

And besides all that, there’s also the fact that both Yondu and Drax have one amazing ice breaker to spark their friendship. And something that would most certainly embarrass the hell out of Peter once he hears them talking about it.

That Drax was one of the first Guardians whom considered Yondu Peter’s father.

And since we’re all about giving out headcanons, and you had such an awesome one messaged to me above – how about I give you one in return? One that will give you all the emotions, possibly silly and heartwarming both?

(Inspired by late night conversations with @packratofdenialism, love ya friend~!)

Because honestly, can you imagine the look on Yondu’s face when Drax pulls him aside and he begins to discuss just how wonderful the relationship that Yondu has with his son is? And how proud he must be to have raised such a grand warrior, or how blessed Yondu should feel to see Peter grow and become a leader of his own crew?

I mean, it’s one thing to say it among friends, and have it be played off as a really big misunderstanding…

As well as have Peter totally deny that Yondu is the dad he’s always wanted, or that he ever called him Dad emotionally after he was saved from space, or how this is something that both father and son are still trying to get used to saying at all…but, dude, that’s only meant to be private sappy bullshit just between them! Not said in mixed company, or aloud, or ever! What the hell, Drax!

But to bring it up again, in a small ship where everyone can hear, and in front of Yondu no less! Peter isn’t sure whether to crawl under the ship’s controls or just smack his head repeatedly into the wall, because he knows well enough that nothing that comes out of this is going to be good, and he’ll probably never live it down…

I mean, just imagine!

“Ah, at long last! I get to go one on one with Quill’s father!” “Sure as hell hope yer not expectin’ the two o’us ta’arm wrest –” He pauses half way through his playful words; realizing slowly just what Drax said. “Wait, whadda’yer sayin’?”“You are indeed the true father of Star Lord? I know that your son tries to deny it with great enthusiasm, but it is surely so plain to see!”

So Peter would just groan aloud, because it was bad enough the first time around but now other members are listening in, and part of him just really hopes that Yondu will cut Drax off with some joke.

And yet, Yondu just smiles. Letting out that very asshole kind of laugh that is hidden with deeper emotion; because it may be slightly embarrassing to be considered Peter’s father by someone – as well as surprising, considering no one is judging him for said feelings…but somehow it just feels right.

“Hah, yeah, ah’guess ya could say ‘dat.”

And at hearing that Yondu isn’t angry, and is possibly going along with it, Peter just pops his head in and glares at them both with a massive blush on his cheeks.

“OH MY GOD YONDU NO. Don’t encourage him, ya stupid ass blueberry! Seriously, man, he’ll never stop at this rate and dude, we’re getting a damn audience here!”

And Drax interjects, because how rude of Peter to call his father a blueberry!

“Do not disrespect your father, Quill!”

And slowly, Yondu just looks over at Peter and sees his flustered look, because he knows that they were never the type for outward or open emotion. But after everything they went through, they could use a little bit of lighthearted teasing, and oh god it’s just so easy!

And he gives him a far too knowing smirk – like yep boy, ya wiggled yerself into dis, now ya gotta deal wit’it.

“Ey, ya heard him, son! Ya go on and treat yer daddy wit’ ‘sum kinda respect!”

And Peter just goes full on blood red, because oh my god Yondu why, and stomps out all the while screaming.

“THAT’S IT. IT’S OFFICIAL. I AM DISOWNING ALL OF YOU.”

Then Drax would look over at Yondu curiously; still hearing Peter squealing down the hallways.

“Is he always such –”

“A big ol’ drama queen? Hell yes. I mean, damn, th’ stories I could tell –”

“Oh! Please share your tales, Udonta! I would be overjoyed to listen!”

Hours later, Peter comes back totally drunk, and being far too done with his new extended family of embarrassing people and dad jokes, and oh my god are those two still at it after all this time? If I turn that corner they better not be exchanging baby pictures, what the hell.

And Yondu is still next to Drax, and he has this massively proud smile on his face. And he’s explaining in detail about the first time that Peter tried to shoot the special blaster that that he had given his boy for his birthday, and how their training session ended with Peter accidentally shooting Yondu in the leg instead of the Yaka Arrow that was meant as the target.

And Drax is just laughing out loud, as he often does when he is happy, and Peter expects Yondu to still be angry because of the accidental maiming that happened all those years ago and yet –

“Boy gave me one helluva scar! Still got it too! And oh damn, was he sheepish! Thinkin’ I was gonna up and whup ‘im for doin’ it. Hell, lookin’ back I probably scared im’ cussa my shouting an’ all…but I was REAL DAMN PROUD!””As one should be! To know that your child holds the courage to take down his target no matter who it may be! That shows true strength!””And even’tho dat shit hurt like hell, I was just thinkin, durin’ his stupid ass apology, how ‘dat trick shot coul’ be used on the field! Git’im all backed inna corner, and hav’im hit his target when ‘dey least expect it?”“Ahaha! Imagine the look on your enemy’s face when they are taken down by such a small and frail child!”“Hell yeah! I mean, I always ‘igured Petey to be sumfin’ special, but after all ‘dat, th boy just kept on surprisin’ me!“

Maybe Peter assumes that half of this conversation is just his drunken mind playing tricks on him, because Yondu was, and is proud of him? And Drax is agreeing? And they’re actually getting along? And it’s not just at Peter’s expense?

Obviously he had one too many.

And yet, the more he continues to listen in secret, the more he sees his old man actually smiling, and sees him getting along with his team, and not having to worry about anything that Ego put on his shoulders, or Ravagers betraying him for daring to care…

And sure, maybe he’s still getting used to all of this; the thought of him having an actual family.

…One that is filled with talking raccoons and green skinned warriors, tiny trees that enjoys his odd taste in music and a blue skinned dad with a flying arrow, as well as a brother that still is loyal even though he doesn’t have to be after what happened with the Ravagers…

Okay, so maybe his family is a seriously weirdass one…but it’s still a family nonetheless. And the more that Peter thinks about it, the more he walks away from the conversation, and finds himself placing in certain earbuds from a certain Zune and playing a certain song to help him deal with his awful hangover…

…He realizes that yeah, embarrassing and mismatched and crazy as it may be, this family is still his – and it just feels right.

There you go, Anon! You gave me the wonderful idea of Yondu getting to know the Guardians and just wondering where he went wrong in Peter’s upbringing because SERIOUSLY SON WHY THESE IDIOTS. And in turn, I gave you an idea where everyone else slowly just becomes totally done with Yondu – mostly Peter, because THE EMBARRASSING STORIES, DAD WHY.

As well as some additional feelings on top of the silliness, because why not?

Thank you so much once more for coming into my askbox and talking Yondad related headcanons with me! I deeply appreciate it, always totally have fun with it, and I surely hope that you enjoyed my little mini fan fiction that I gave you in return! (If anyone wants that posted on it’s own without additional talk, just ask.)

Lots of hugs, hope you have a great day full of joy and fandom feelings, and I hope to see you around soon! Pop back in anytime!

#peter quill #yondu udonta #yondu #drax the destroyer #guardians of the galaxy #Anon~#Ponnie Rambles~#Long Post~#Very Long Post~#I'm really sorry that this ended up taking so long my dear sweet Yondad!Anon friend!#Honestly I just managed to lose track of my writing for a few days and forgot where I wanted this to go #as well as ended up fumbling my words many times to the point where I had to rewrite this twice.#Originally it wasn't going to include the small fan fiction -- but since you waited so long for a reply!#I JUST FIGURED.#WHY NOT.#Why not give you feelings and something nice to help you feel better about the wait #SO I DID!#And thus the drabble of Drax and Yondu bonding and Peter being embarrassed but coming to terms with his weird ass family #BECAUSE WE COULD ALL USE A LITTLE BIT OF FEELINGS IN A HAPPY AU WHERE NOTHING EVER HAPPENS RIGHT?#So yeah I hope you enjoy reading over my thoughts and my words Yondad!Anon!#Feel free to pop in again if you want!#And if you wan to have the drabble posted by itself so you can enjoy it without everything added on top #well just ask!#I'll be happy to do that!#Anyway stay awesome Yondad!Anon and have fun reading over this you guys!#Lots of kisses~ ♥

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khaleesi-in-the-north · 7 years

Text

In the Crosshairs (17/?)

@lanasexuall

She’d walked the steps to the L&C front entrance half a dozen times before. Never has she felt this intimidated. High above them, the slightly overcast clouds roll through the sky. The first rain in days.

Beside her Renly carries his camera and tripod. “Are you sure you’re okay Margaery? We can ask Cersei to reschedule if you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine, Renly. Haven’t you seen someone get nervous before?” Margaery steps out of the way of a man in a suit hurrying past.

Renly wasn’t completely wrong. It had been days since she had a proper night’s sleep. Since learning about Alayne’s deceit, Margaery dug around for records on her girlfriend. The more she searched, the more distraught she became over what she found.

Nothing. There was nothing on Alayne Stone. No police records, no high school graduations, no previous jobs. No school in the Vale kept a record of an Alayne Stone; nor did any in King’s Landing. Margaery asked Megga to find records of an Alayne Stone in the foster system. The only one was a four-year old girl who had been adopted last year. Before the last three years, there had been no records of Alayne.

When Margaery checked with the county courts, however, they provided her with a birth certificate for Alayne with her father and mother’s name. She sought them out and found nothing. Things weren’t making sense.

Over the last two days, she practically lived in her office. The only time she’d gone back home- no not home- to Alayne’s house, was well after midnight. She’d gone straight up to her bed to sleep before waking up early to go to the courthouse.

Consequentially, Margaery’s new mission had left her little time to prepare for her interview with Cersei.

Looking up at the large letters of towering above her head, Margaery realizes her error. She takes a breath. This is Cersei Lannister. She knows how to deal with Cersei. Don’t push too hard, but don’t let her get comfortable. It was a game of verbal fencing.

She shuts off her worries about Alayne and her lingering thoughts about the Starks. Focusing on Cersei is her only priority.

She lets Renly head inside without her as she collects herself for the interview. Once her thoughts revolve solely around Cersei and her questions for her, Margaery goes in.

Immediately, she stops in her tracks. All her fire for her interview is doused by the sight the curly haired, stoic man standing in the corner of the lobby, arms folded across his chest.

“What in the name of the Stranger are you doing here?!” Margaery demands.

Jon turns toward her. “Hi, Margaery. What are you here for?”

Margaery places her hands on her hips. “Answer my question. Alayne sent you, didn’t she.”

“To make a deposit,” Jon held up an envelope swollen with dragons. Yet, he wouldn’t look her in the eye. More lies.

“Unbelievable. Don’t bullshit me. I know she sent you to babysit me.”

Jon drops the act. “She wants to make sure you’re safe, that’s all. You know-”

“Yes I know!” Margaery yells. She doesn’t care if she’s in a bank lobby. She’s tired of the deception. “I know what Cersei can do! I know I’m endangering myself. I don’t need her trying to hold my hand every step of the way when I’ve been at this for a year!”

The glass door shuts, drawing Margaery’s attention. Cersie stands at the entrance wearing a powersuit and a dramatic new pixie cut. Margaery watches Cersei’s questioning eyes turned to daggers in the span of a few seconds she spends. Cersei glances to Margaery.

“Ms. Tyrell, I believe you said your photographer was coming. You never mentioned this…,” Cersei spits. Margaery isn’t sure how much Cersei heard, but any amount couldn’t have been good.

“He’s a friend, Ms. Lannister. We ran into each other. My photographer is upstairs setting up as we speak.”

Cersei eyes Jon. “I see. Don’t be long Ms. Tyrell. My time is valuable.”

The woman struts toward the elevator.

Margaery turns back to Jon. “Go Jon. Now.”

Jon holds his ground. “You’re the one who needs to go. Your interview starts in five minutes.”

Margaery glances at the clock over the receptionist’s desk. He’s right.

Left to choose between arguing with Jon and doing her job, Margaery chooses the latter.

Alayne had no right to interfere with her work. Margaery thought she had made herself clear. She thought that Alayne understood that she could protect herself. Apparently she couldn’t even be trusted to manage an interview on her own. The constant lies and mistrust were suffocated Margaery. What was there left to give in a relationship with such blatant a holes?

By the time she reaches Cersei’s office, her thoughts remain consumed with Alayne rather than her work at hand.

“Shall we begin?” Cersei smiles, hands folded together above her desk.

“Yes Ms. Lannister, absolutely,” Margaery says. Seven hells, she sounds like an amateur.

Renly flashes her a smile as he adjusts the lighting on his LED stand. Margaery takes out her phone, presses record and puts it on the desk.

“Thank you for having us Ms. Lannister,” Margaery stretches her hand to shake Cersei’s. Cersei stares at it for a moment.

“You’re welcome, Ms. Tyrell. I believe we should bypass these formalities. I have many things to do.”

Margaery retracts her hand. “Of course.”

“You come from one of the most notable families in Westeros, yet you’ve forged your own fame in the banking industry separate from your father. How have you achieved that, Ms. Lannister.” Cersei is the kind of woman who needs her ego stroked to open up.

Cersei smiles. “Ambition and intelligence. My father encouraged my brother and I to embrace our strengths. I did that and more. As a woman in the financial industry, you have to scratch and claw to reach the pinnacle. My success hasn’t come cheap.”

I bet it hasn’t, thinks Margaery. “And in what ways has your father…influenced your work.”

“The same as most successful women, I assume. I listened when he taught told Jaime how to succeed in business; Jaime did not. When I pointed out how better fit I was to lead the family business, he laughed. That sparked a fire to prove him wrong,” Cersei says.

“Which family business might that be, Ms. Lannister?” Margaery asks.

Cersei leans forward. “You’re sitting in it. Ms. Tyrell, let me share a little history with you. Thirty years ago this bank was an afterthought. My father made it solely to get an easy loan for his other investments. That’s how he built his coal empire and eventually the Lannister Natural gas industry. He wanted all of it to go to Jaime. He left me with a little bank. That little bank now competes with the Iron Bank as the bost profitable bank in the world.”

Snap. Flash. Renly had picked the noisy camera.

“Some would question the morals of funding family businesses with a family bank,” Margaery says.

“Some have,” Cersei flashes a smile, just in time for the next snap. “Once they realize the good L&C does for the country’s economy, they typically shut up.”

Time to change course. “Before his recent passing, Joffrey spoke to me about his grooming to one day take over various family businesses. His death must be devastating to your future plans.”

Cersei eyes narrow into a glare, her fingers click against the table. Snap. “My son’s death was heartbreaking. As a mother, my greatest creation was my children. The last thing on my mind is how his death will impact business. I have to her children who lost a brother. The gap in their lives is my greatest concern.”

“I understand. I’m sorry if I’ve touched a tender spot. I couldn’t possibly return to the office without asking,” Margaery excused herself.

Still tapping her fingers, Cersei smiled tight-lipped. “Of course, dear. I do know how that hardened editor of yours likes to twist his sources’ arms. You’ve learned well from him.”

“Excuse me?” Margaery asks. She turns to Renly, who shrugged.

“Silly girl, do you think I don’t know who you are? ‘Rose Heller’, what a ridiculous pseudonym. I’ll not continue working with a rat spreading lies about my family.” Cersei leans forward and takes Margaery’s phone, turning off the recording. She presses a buzzer underneath her desk. “Please have Mr. Baratheon escorted out of the building.”

Two security guards march in and grab Renly by the arms. Margaery turns, but knows better than to get up.

“I watched you manipulate my son like a jack-knife. I admit, for a moment even I was charmed by you. That little body guard of yours gave you away.” Cersei says.

Margaery breathes out. “Ms. Lannister-”

Cersei struts forward, inches away from Margaery’s face. “Shut up. Your lies are the reason my son is dead! If you ever write a single word about my family again, your body will be disfigured beyond recognition. Get out!”

“Joffrey died in a bloody car accident. How is that my fault?!” Margaery demands.

Cersei presses the intercom button again. “Escort Ms. Tyrell.”

Two more security guards come in. As Margaery gathers her things, Cersei says, “Keep your head on a swivel. A Lannister always pays her debts.”

As Margaery is about to step out the door Cersei adds, “And tell Mr. Snow he’s looking well.”

One of the guards tries to drag Margaery out by her arm. She slaps his hand away and walks to the elevator alone.

Her interview couldn’t have gone any worse. She wasn’t prepared and it showed. Margaery shuts her eyes. It’s Alayne’s fault. Alayne’s lies distracted her from focusing on this interview which she has worked months to get. Alayne sent Jon despite knowing Margaery did not want him there. Her eyes fly open as the bell dings and the door opens. She scoots over a step as more people get in the elevator.

Cersei knew Jon. Knew him quite well it seemed. They wanted to sabotage her interview. Alayne has been trying to keep her away from Cersei for months. How ever Jon knew Cersei, it clearly did not end well. Alayne used that knowledge to ruin her one opportunity to talk to Cersei.

The clouds have grown darker, the air more humid, and no rain. As she walks down the steps, she hears Jon call out, “Hey Marge, how did it go?”

Ignoring him, she goes straight to Renly.

“Did you get the equipment?” he asks.

“Didn’t have a chance,” says Margaery. “They won’t let us in to retrieve it now.”

Renly sighs. “5,000 dragons of equipment wasted.”

Jon’s footsteps close in behind her. “What happened in there?”

Margaery’s eyes darken at the annoyance. Recognizing her anger, Renly says, “I’m going to get the car. Pick you up here?”

“Please,” says Margaery.

As Renly gets the car, Margaery turns her attention to Jon. His round, sad, big brown eyes, the ones that secretly make Ygritte melt behind closed doors, fail to chill Margaery’s rage. If anything, they fuel it.

“Margaery, what happened?” Jon asks again.

“We had a lovely chat. Talked about her business and family. And she wants you to know that you look as good as she remembers,” Margaery snarks.

“I don’t know her,” Jon says, but his voice hitches.

Renly’s gold sedan rolls to a stop on the street.

“She sure as hell knew you,” she says. She gets in the car and slams the door behind her.

A year of partnership taught Renly to let her stew when interviews went wrong, a rarity in itself. She stares at the cars speeding in the opposite direction. “I fucked up,” she finally says.

“You can’t control what that woman does,” Renly assures.

“I should have been worried about Cersei, not Alayne. I didn’t come prepared and I fucked up,” she insists.

“Why are you worried about Alayne?” he asks.

Margaery looks at him. “We’ve… she told me some thing and… I found out it wasn’t true.”

He nods. “Did you talk to her about it?”

“I don’t know how to. And then she sent Jon after me like a babysitter. That’s what cost us the interview.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Cersei knew Jon. She recognized him and blew up because of it. If Alayne had let me be, our interview would have gone without any hitches. Now we’ll be lucky to get this damn piece published,” she clenches her fist tight.

When they pass Wallard’s, she realizes that they aren’t going back to the office. “Why are you taking me to Alayne’s house?”

“One, I don’t think you should be driving right now. You and Loras are alike in turning into speed racers when your pissed. I don’t think he’d be happy if I let you get in an accident with your car. Second, you need to talk your girlfriend. Whatever’s going on between you two, you need to resolve it. Not for work, but for you. Margaery, you looked like you’d hardly slept in days this morning. What’s happening with her?” Renly turns down Alayne’s street.

“She’s being a hypocrite.”

“Just because of Jon?” he parks on the street across from Alayne’s house. Her car is in the driveway, so she is home.

“So much more than Jon,” mutters Margaery. She gets out of the car.

“I’m going to wait out here, okay? If things turn ugly, I’d like to be a safe distance away.” The joke falls flat.

Finding the door unlocked, she lets herself in. The carpet looks almost pure white and the air smells of lemon-scented cleaner. The tables shine from a fresh dusting.

When Lady doesn’t run forward to assault her, Margaery knows she’s on a walk with Alayne.

Rather than loiter for Alayne, Margaery walks down the hall to Alayne’s room. The drawn blinds allow bright afternoon sunlight to spill across the bed. On the nightstand lays the photo of Alayne and her brother. Margaery sits on the corner of the bed and turns it over. The back is blank. She flips it again and focuses on the boy in the photo. There’s something familiar about him. He’s her brother, of course he looks familiar, Margaery thinks. Can she believe that though? If Alayne lied about Petyr adopting her, whose to say this isn’t some random children? She’s yet to find proof that Alayne lived in the Vale. What if that was a lie too?

The front door opens and shuts. The jingling of Lady’s leash echoes down the hall.

“Marge, are you home? Why is Renly sitting in his car? He knows he’s welcome any time,” Alayne hollers.

Margaery goes into the living room. Alayne slips off her tennis shoes and smiles. “How was work?”

Unbelievable. “Why don’t you ask Jon. He can tell you about it as much as I can.”

The smile falls from Alayne’s face. Unaware of the shift in mood, Lady bounds toward Margaery, wagging her tail in excitement.

“He wasn’t supposed to be obvious,” Alayne finally says.

Margaery struts past Lady, “That’s it? You went behind my back, after I told you I didn’t want you intervening, and that’s all you have to say?!”

Alayne stares at her blankly. Lady brushes against Margaery’s leg, as if having the over 100 lb. beast bumping into her knee is supposed to be soothing.

Margaery nudges a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Your plan worked. Cersei didn’t say shit and any chances I have of approaching her again are gone.”

“I’m sorry, Margaery. I didn’t mean to interfere, I just wanted you to be safe. I-”

Margaery cuts her off. “I don’t need your fucking protection! I’m not a child! Seven hells, I’m older than you! Next time you want to ‘protect’ me, at least send someone Cersei doesn’t know.”

Margaery walks to the couch and sits. Alayne follows her. “Cersei knew him?”

“Yes. Loathes him, actually,” Margaery says.

Alayne’s face pales.

“What is it?” Margaery asks.

“Nothing,” Alayne mumbles.

Another blatant lie. Margaery gets up and goes to her room. A few minutes later, she returns with a bag of clothes.

“What are you doing?” Alayne asks.

“I’m tired of your hypocrisy. I’m not doing this tonight,” Margaery says.

“Doing what? I’m not being a hypocrite,” Alayne gets up and stands in front of her.

“You are,” insists Margaery. “You ask me to trust you, but you don’t trust me to tell me your past.” Alayne tries to interrupt, but Margaery presses on, gaining fervor as she speaks. “Don’t pretend that sob story you gave me the other day was true. Petyr Baelish never adopted a child. Did you even live in the Vale? Who lies about that? I am tired of being turned into a fool for you.”

Margaery starts for the door.

“Marge, can we talk. Please,” Alayne asks.

Margaery faces her, arms folded over her chest, gripping the bag of clothes at her side. “Are you going to tell me the truth?”

Alayne steps closer. “Baby, the truth is…complicated.”

Margaery scoffs. “No, darling, it’s not.” She grabs her leather jacket and storms out of the house. Behind her Alayne yells her name and asks for her to come back again. Not now. She had her chance. It’s her turn to fret with unanswered questions.

The tiny raindrops begin to fall from the overcast sky. By the time she reaches the car, they’ve formed a steady rhythm.

She doesn’t meet Renly’s eyes. “Take me to Ygritte’s.”

Alayne’s voice grows closer, but Renly doesn’t move.

“Renly step on the gas or gods help me I will do it.”

Reluctantly, he starts the car and drives past Alayne.

In the side view mirror, Margaery watches Alayne’s frantically shouting figure shrink until it disappears.

She takes out her phone calls Ygritte. “What’s up?”

“Ygritte, I need to stay at your apartment a few days,” Margaery says.

“What happened, hon?” Ygritte asks.

“I had a fight with Alayne. I can’t be around her now Ygritte. She’s not being honest with me and doesn’t trust me and she sent Jon…gods…” Margaery rambles. It’s be so much easier if Ygritte was here. She would know.

“No problem Marge. I’m on my break now, so I won’t be back home for a few hours. I’ll get of that fancy wine you like and the amazing cheap beer I like, and you can tell Mama Ygritte all about it,” Ygritte offers.

From the moment they met, Ygritte had away of knowing exactly how to get Margaery to relax. Long ago Margaery gave up trying to understand the woman’s knack and embraced the benefits. Like now.

“Thanks, Ygritte. What are you going to tell Jon?”

“That he can sleep in the bushes. If he’s involved, then he deserves a night in the streets. Take his key out of the left shoe in front of the door. Don’t freak out if Gendry is there though. He might be asleep on the couch,” Ygritte’s end starts to crackle. “Gotta get back to work hon. See you soon.”

“Bye, Ygritte,” Margaery ends the call.

Renly stretches his arm across Margaery’s shoulder. “Everyone has their rough patches.”

“I feel like I hardly know her now,” Margaery admits.

“That big of a lie?” Renly asks.

Margaery nods. “I’m a fool. She’s been playing me all along, Renly.”

“You don’t know if that’s true. Let yourself calm down and you’ll see it’s misunderstanding, I’m sure.” Rely parks his car in the apartment parking lot. “Do you want me to wait with you until Ygritte gets off?”

“Yes, please,” Margaery says.

He reaches across the median and hugs her. “ Okay.”

Before going inside, Margaery bends down and takes the key out of Jon’s shoe. Other than the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the main room of the apartment is relatively clean. Gendry must be more into cleanliness than she assumed. He wasn’t home, which saves an awkward explanation.

Renly sits on the couch and texts on his phone.

Leaning over his shoulder, Margaery gasps, “You told Loras?!”

He looks up at her. “He called me while I was waiting. And then he asked if he could speak to you. What was I supposed to do?”

“Tell him I’ll call him later.”

“It’s too late for that now. He says he’s on his way here as soon as he gets off,” Renly lifts his phone higher. Above the text confirming that Loras is indeed coming is a line of several angry and mismatched emojis.

“Fantastic,” Margaery groans. Her brother’s tendency to overreact couldn’t help. If anything, he’ll only stress her out more.

She walks around the couch and toward her old room- Jon’s room. Although the floor is clean, the dressers are covered in clothes and little knick-knacks. Figurines, belts, hair gel, combs, and cds cover her once well-organized dresser tops.

Beside the bed, she drops her bag. She hardly recognizes the room as the one she used to live in. Instead of roses and lilies, it smells like cologne and oak. Strong cologne. The bedside stand hosts an alarm clock, several loose condoms, and a photo. Curious, Margaery sits on the edge of the bed and picks up the photo.

It’s grainy, but well kept. She recognizes Jon immediately as the boy on the far left in a hoodie and jeans, pouting likely because his hair is cut so short. Next to him smiles a boy with auburn hair, also cut short, holding a football. It takes Margaery a moment, but she finally figures out why he looks familiar. He looks exactly like Alayne’s brother. A few years older, a few more teeth, but definitely the same boy. Alayne had said that she and Jon were old friends. One truth confirmed in a thousand statements.

On the opposite side of the picture stands a pretty girl, red hair tumbling over her shoulders, maybe around five holding the hand of another girl in overalls, who may be two. Margaery looks closer at the girl. That’s Alayne. Except when did Alayne have red hair? Hairs doesn’t turn from that shade of red to dark brown.

She must be wrong. Yet those eyes… She’s gazed into those eyes thousands of times. They can’t belong to anyone else. Not to mention the girl has Alayne’s cheek bones and lips. Her heart pounds with foreboding.

She flips over the picture. In scribbled handwriting it reads, “Jon- 9, Robb- 9, Sansa- 5, Arya- 2. Play date with Uncle Ned.”

Margaery’s hand flies to her mouth as if of its own accord. She wonders when she’ll wake up, because this can’t be reality. Then she thinks back to that day she showed Alayne the picture of Catelyn Stark, how she grew quiet. Why she would never talk about her family. The way she hesitated when talking about Robb. Her hand clenches around the photo. The crumpled picture falls to the floor, as Margaery remains sitting in shock.

Alayne Stone never existed.

#in the crosshairs #sansaery

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sparkesink · 4 years

Text

Chapter 10:

Paul

Remember?

Going To U Of I,

(Peter.)

We Were Together For So Long,

I Had Melted Within Your Friend Circle.

My Friends Did Not Like You…

(Not One Bit.)

My Own Aunt Refused To Talk To Me,

An Attempt To Please…

(A Narcissistic Twit.)

It Was Simply Easier:

Being ‘The Girl,’

(The Only Within The Crew.)

I Was ‘Not Allowed’ To Enjoy Time With Most Of My Friends;

(You “Didn’t Approve Of Them”.)

It Was Quite Beautiful;

(Our Fucking Train Wreck.)

You,

(The Conductor,)

Walked Away,

(Scott-Free:)

Never Looked Back.

The Carnage Left By Your Actions:

The Bodies,

(Ripped From Limb,

To Limb).

In College,

(Alone,)

‘On Your Own,”

(The Beginning Of Our Lives:)

A New City,

(Populated From Every Corner Of The Globe.)

We Became Acquainted To New Humans;

(In Which,)

We Would Have Never Met.

One Of Those First Fridays,

(Semester Came Around.)

We Made Our Way,

Down Those Elevators,

Across The Lawn,

(Travis’s Dorm.)

Travis,

Peter’s Best Friend;

(Since Seventh Grade,)

One Of My Good Friends,

(One Of My Roommates.)

Those Silly Dorm Rooms,

(‘Jack And Jill,’ Architecture.)

Two Rooms,

Conjoined, One Door,

One Bathroom,

Shared;

Located Within The Left Room.

(Pain-In-The-Ass.)

I Ended Up Moving;

A Separate Dorm,

(Post Peter’s Infidelity.)

Elevator Riddled With Condoms,

(Taped To My Door.)

“Use Protection!”

She Made A Pristine Point,

(Taunting A Broken Heart,)

As It Packed,

And Left.

Our Original Dorm Set Up,

One Communal Bathroom,

(A Center Piece To Each Floor.)

Surrounded By Individuals,

Walking Down Hallways,

(Towards 10x10 Bedrooms.)

This May Sound Obnoxious,

(Whilst Showering And Shitting,)

Until Your Suite Mate Needs To Use The Restroom,

Conveniently Located On Your Side Of The Jack And Jill,

(Count Your Blessings,)

Trapped,

(Mid Sex Position,)

Until They Are Finished Relieving Themselves Within Your Bedroom.

I Cannot Begin To Describe,

(Being Walked In On During Sex.)

Don’t Let Me Forget:

Laying On The Couch,

(In That Basement,)

A Family Friend Popped Down To Say,

“Hey,”

You Thought It Extremely Funny To Sodomize Me:

(Smack-Dab In Mid-Conversation.)

You ‘Have To Play It Off’,

(Attempt To Cover What Was Really Going On.)

Worthy A Film Contract,

(All In It’s Own.)

I Should Have Won An Award,

(How Well I Kept All Of Your Skeletons,)

Your Dirty Secrets,

She Turned,

(Walked Up Those Stairs.)

(Rabbit Troll)

A “Jack And Jill,”

(Room Arrangement,)

One Of Two Things Happen:

You,

(All Your Suite Mates,)

Live Together,

(Open Door Policy.)

You’re Awkward,

(Never Talk,)

Never Open The Door;

(Unless One Has To Use The Restroom.)

Travis,

Suite-mates:

Two Of His Old,

(High School,)

Friends…

And Paul.

Paul:

Small Town Idahoan.

High School Class:

Roughly Fourteen.

The Epitome Of My Attraction.

(Morphing Throughout Adolescent Maturity;)

Following Consequently,

(Views Changing To Fit Thee.)

High School Wrestler,

(Training To Be A Firefighter.)

One Powerlifting Trophy.

Listened To My Music,

Had A Lip Ring,

Tattoos,

Beautiful Brown Eyes.

Brunette Hair,

(Swooped To The Side.)

Could Make Any Girl,

(Melt Where She Stood.)

Silly Girl,

(Inclined To Attract,)

Strictly,

(Womanizing,)

Assholes.

Could Fuck Any Girl In A Room,

(Right Where He Stood;)

No Matter What She Looked Like.

He Had This Magnetic Pull To Him,

Draws You In,

(Within The Flicker Of A Heartbeat.)

He Always Knew,

Exactly What To Say,

(Each Girl,)

Melting Within His Hands.

Hot,

(Bar Fly,)

Bitch,

(Ego With A Complex:)

“Be An Asshole To Her,

Ignore Her Passes,

Gain Her Desire For Acceptance”…

Give Her An Ego Boost,

(Over The Hood Of Her 1999 VW Beatle.)

Beautiful,

(Shy,)

“Lady Like”:

Compliment Her,

Stand Up For Her,

Prove “You’re A Good Guy…

The One That Can Take Care Of Her,

(Within Your Big Strong Arms”…)

Give Her Comfort,

(Security,)

Three Hours,

(Bent Over The Bathroom Sink.)

Paul’s Collegiate Goal:

One Hundred Different Women,

(Before He Graduated.)

Starting College At Twenty-one.

Paul Was Not Trying To Hypnotize Me,

(When We First Met…)

Yet,

Here I Am, Writing,

(Yet Another,)

Bad,

Fucking,

“Love Story”.

The Night We Met,

(That Second Friday Of My Collegiate Experience.)

I Did Not Know Anyone:

Drinking In Travis’s Dorm,

(Our Only Option.)

I Hadn’t Heavily Started Drinking,

(Until After I Became A “Vandal”.)

Only Drank Once-In-A-While,

(Upon A Parent Free Home.)

Now Consuming:

A Fifth Of Tequila,

To Myself,

(Through A Sippy-Cup;)

Conscious Enough To Independently Walk Home.

At This Time,

Four Beers To DRUNK…

(I Miss Those Days.)

I Remember Walking Into Travis’s Room,

Peter,

(Thinking He Was Hot Shit,)

That Is,

Until I Met Eyes With…

Paul.

Up Until This Moment,

I Had Never Wanted To Be With Anyone,

(Aside Peter.)

Truth Be Told,

I Was Loyal To Him,

Until Nine Months Post,

(He First Cheated On Me.)

I Had Never Been Drawn To Anyone,

(Such I Had Paul.)

Sitting Around,

Playing King’s Cup,

Drinking,

(Bullshitting.)

I Had Forgotten Peter Had Been Present.

It Wasn’t Until I Leaned In,

(Towards Paul,)

Looked Straight Through Him,

(Dead In The Eye:)

“Do You Think If Two People With Lip Rings Made Out…

Would They Be Doomed To Get Stuck?”

Peter Responded,

“YOU ARE NOT MAKING OUT WITH HIM,”

I Hadn’t Remembered:

Peter Had Been Sitting Next To Me,

(Whilst I Been Oodling Over Paul.)

(Just To Justify,)

If Two People With Lip Rings Make Out,

They Can Get Caught,

You Will Both Appear Rather Troublesome,

(Whilst Attempting To Separate Two Faces.)

Peter Caught Me,

Red Handed:

(Mentally Molesting,)

This Gorgeous Man I Had Just Met,

I Worked Extraordinarily Hard,

(Keeping Myself Composed,)

Appear Loyal,

(To A Cheating Putz.)

My Mind Lusting,

(The Other Man,)

Sitting To The Right Of Me.

It’s Quite Humorous,

(Recalling Our First Memorable Moment,)

(Paul:)

You Found My Obnoxious Outbursts So Comical…

One Of Paul’s Female Friends,

Sitting Next To Peter During This Circle Of King’s Cup,

(Forcing Alcohol Peter’s Way,)

With Every Drink To Be Given Out.

I Had Come Back To Realization,

(Peter Was Present In My Life,)

I Quickly Recognized Her Feminine Intentions.

I Was Mentally Melting Amongst The Feet Of Another Man,

Though,

I Felt Envy As Peter Received Strange Attention.

“Don’t Get Him Too Drunk,

He’s Got To Pull Out Later.”

(The Moment You Became Friends With Me.)

Paul,

We Had An Intense Connection,

Even Platonically,

While I Was In A Relationship With Peter.

Peter, Travis, Paul And I:

“The Gruesome Foursome”.

Spending Almost Every Waking Moment Together:

Creating Drunken Memories Throughout Our Freshman Year.

Paul Started School Late,

September Of This Year Celebrating His 21stBirthday…

(He Did Not Remember The First Month And A Half Of His Legality.)

That Same Halloween,

(I Found That Girl On The Bathroom Floor,)

Peter Dressed As A Banana,

I, The Queen Of Hearts.

Before Leaving For The Party,

We Had Walked Through Paul’s Room,

Him Passed Out On His Bed,

(Shit-Faced-Drunk)

6:00 P.M.

You Woke Up,

Responded,

“PETER! YOU’RE A BANANA!”

Peter:

“No Paul,

You’re A Banana.”

Paul:

“NO IM NOT…”

(Glanced Toward Me,)

A Coward In The Corner,

“DAYUM…You Look Dirty,”

(Passing Back Out).

You Didn’t Know How Brokenly Innocent,

(Small,)

I Felt Inside,

(Those Years I Knew You.)

How Your Affection Made My Heart Beat Faster,

(Each Time I Saw You.)

That Attention Was But A Game To You,

You Didn’t Know I Was Drowning.

You Didn’t Know I Was Begging For Affection,

(Just As That You Sheltered Me With.)

November 1, 2009

Peter Left Me,

(In My Dorm Room,)

To Have Sex With The Girl From The Fourth Floor.

I Didn’t Find Out.

Two Days Past:

Walking Back From The Shower,

(Everyone Knew.)

Snickers,

Those Girls Mocked Me That Day,

The Day I Received That Text From Peter’s Roommate.

“Jade,

I Need To Tell You Something.

I Am Not Telling You This To Hurt You,

Or Upset You,

I Feel You Needed To Know…

Peter Had Sex With Macy Sunday Night.”

Shock;

Death.

The One Person I Had To Confide In:

(The One Who Burnt Me,)

First.

Paul’s Number Came Upon My Telephone.

“Peter Cheated On Me,

Want To Come Over?”

“Jade,

We Both Know That Is A Bad Idea…

A Week’s Time,

You Would Like Me To Come Over,

I Will.”

Our Sexual Tension Was Thick,

A Sludge Hammer:

(Tearing Through Quicksand.)

I Began To Care About You,

(Paul.)

I Became Protective Of You,

(The More Our Friendship Grew.)

That December,

Paul Began Dating,

Some Gorgeous Girl He Had Been Chasing,

(About Three Years).

Paul In Moscow,

(Going To School:)

She Had Been Living In Boise,

(An Obvious Cause For Issues To Arise.)

She Refused To ‘Officially’ Date Him.

(How I Wished I Had Her Chance.)

Every Night,

(Clockwork,)

He Would Phone Her.

(Regardless What He Was Doing That Night,)

Just To Talk,

(Before Bed,)

Tell Her “He Loved Her”.

This Went On For…

Three,

Four Months;

(This Womanizing Asshole Had Been Tamed,)

Turning Down Any Girl To Make A Pass Towards Him,

(A Slave To His Nightly Phone Call.)

I Remember,

(Meeting This Girl,)

New Years,

(That Year I Thought I Loved You.)

She Seemed Nice…

(I Couldn’t Help My Growing Envy,)

Wishing I Was In Her Position:

Tucked Under Your Arm,

(Receiving Your Kiss.)

Three Months:

She “Broke Your Heart”.

I Desired To Physically Hurt Her,

More So Than Ever In My Life,

(To This point.)

Standing In The Parking Lot,

(Outside Our Dorm.)

Our Friends…

Waived By,

(You And I,)

To Talk Alone.

Tears On Both Ends.

You,

Expressing Her Disloyalty To You,

(Peters Of Me.)

This Was The First Time I Realized,

(Acknowledged,)

I Had Feelings For This Man…

More So Than That,

(Simply Just “Friends”.)

We Had Grown Extremely,

(Secretly,)

Close;

Those Months,

(Following This Event.)

I Always Felt Safe Confiding In You,

(As I Felt You The Same Toward Me.)

I Cannot Speak For Paul’s Thoughts And Feelings,

(Though,)

It Seemed As I The Only Person You Had To Open Up To,

(I Assumed You Felt That Same Comfort With Me.)

Summer 2010

I Had Thrown That Huge,

(Weekend Long,)

House Party;

(While My Parent’s Were Away.)

The Night Began To Turn,

(A Drunken Blur.)

Walking Through The Living Room…

I Found You,

Peter,

One Of My Female Friends,

(Conspiring In The Corner;)

Gradually Glancing Over Toward Me,

Leaning Back In,

Glancing Over,

(Repeat.)

I Walked Over,

Questioning The Birdie Gossip…

“Oh Nothing,

Don’t Worry About It…

Let’s Watch A Movie.”

Unaware Of This Future Plot,

Quickly Unraveling Your Conspiracy.

Putting In That Movie,

(Realizing,)

This Was A Plotted Four-way…

Each Member Aware The Situation…

(Except Me.)

I Wanted To Have Sex With You,

(Paul,)

That Night.

I Let Peter Fuck Me In Front Of You,

All While Wishing It Were Only Me And You.

I Had Wanted To Make Love To You,

(I Hated Peter For Keeping Us Apart.)

Do You Remember What You Said To Me?

While Naked,

Wrapped Within My Blanket,

(Upon My Parent’s Bathroom Floor.)

(Another One Of Those Moments,)

I Had Accidentally Been Falling For You.

(I Never Asked To Care For You.)

It Was Never Something I Had Planned.

I Should Have Left You There;

How Embarrassed You Felt,

“This Never Happens To You”.

You Caught Me,

(In The Way You Looked At Me,)

Naked,

Covered In A Simple Blanket.

I Thought I Knew More Depth,

From What We Put Upon The Surface.

“Jade,

Your One Of The Good Ones,

Don’t Let Anyone Tell You Otherwise…

Please.”

I Couldn’t Help But Stare Through You As You Spoke,

(Imagining…)

You Where The Only Person Who Cared,

(For The Inside Of Me;)

We Were The Only People Left In This Room,

(The Only Left In Our World.)

Do You Remember That Night?

The Summer I Turned 18.

You Didn’t Know I Had Broken It Off With Peter The Night Before.

You Didn’t Know I Had Left My Abuser To Be With You.

That Night,

You Curled Me Up On That Couch,

(Your Friend’s One Bedroom Home On Vista Avenue.)

We Watched 500 Days Of Summer.

You Fingered My Hipbones,

(Kissed Me As A True Lover.)

Wrapped Me Up In Your Web,

Liquified,

(Mummified,)

Carcass,

(Feeding Your Joker’s Ego.)

That Week:

You Weren’t Ashamed To Love Me.

(Whilst Simultaneously Hiding My Identity,)

Such Importance,

(Saving Your “Best Friend” Face.)

You Lured Me In.

You Didn’t Know I Had Been,

(Desperately,)

Searching For My “Love Story”,

(Long Before I Met You.)

You Didn’t Know How Young And Naïve I Was,

(I Put On A Good Act.)

I Just Wanted To Laugh With You,

Be Someone,

(You Weren’t Ashamed,)

To Call Your Own.

You Didn’t Know,

I Only Fell Back To Peter…

(After You Refused My Affection.)

You Didn’t Explain That To All Of Our Friends,

(The One’s You Lied To.)

They Couldn’t Know,

It Was You Who Had Fallen…

For One Of Your Best Girl Friends,

(Your Best Friend’s Girl.)

All I Ever Wanted:

Recognition,

(You Felt Something Too.)

I Knew What Kind Of Guy You Were,

I Sat By You,

(Through and Through.)

High Hopes,

My Wild Heart Could Tame You,

I Hadn’t Expected Abandonment…

(Not From You.)

I Didn’t Know Who I Was,

My Life,

(As I Knew,)

In Shambles.

A Cheating Four Year,

(Abusive,)

Relationship…

Ended…

(Thanks To You.)

You Forgot About Me.

Convinced Yourself,

“I Wasn’t Good Enough For You”…

Or Maybe It Was You,

(For Me.)

We Were Never Meant To Be,

(It Would Have Been A Catastrophe.)

You Didn’t Have To Lie,

You Didn’t Have To Abandon Me.

You Were Supposed To Put Out The Fire,

(Disintegrating The Beauty Within Me.)

A Firefighter,

(A Joker,)

Instead,

Setting My Escape…

Ablaze.

I Could Have Used Your Friendship,

(All Those Days,)

You Walked Away.

Our Friends,

That Same Confused Look,

(Every Mention Of My Feeling Towards He.)

You Could Have Had Me…

(Surely,)

That’s Not How The Story Was Meant To Be.

You Couldn’t Admit You Cared For Me.

You Didn’t Know You Were My Last Grasp,

(Justification For My Own Self Worth.)

You Didn’t Know I Swallowed Those Pills,

In That House We Were Suppose To Share.

Peter Sat By My Bath Side,

All While Imagining It Was You.

Wishing You Had Never Abandoned Me.

You Aren’t Worth Any More Thought,

(You Really Never Were;)

Just A Joker,

Playing Games…

(Your Specialty.)

Such A Foolish Girl:

Determined To Be “Special;”

(The One To Restrain The Boar.)

I Never Wanted To Share My Bedroom With Him,

In Our House On Lilly…

That Night,

(The Last Night You Admitted Your Feelings For Me:)

You Didn’t Know I Sat,

(Sobbing,)

Within My Beetle,

(Outside Your Friends Tiny House…)

Wondering,

“Will I Ever Escape This Black Tar?”

What Was A Girl Supposed To Do?

I Didn’t Know I Could Survive On My Own.

Peter Promised Me Companionship…

You Shunned Me The Night Before…

I Never Cheated On Him With You.

I Left Him For You.

You Never Told Him.

(You Never Told Anyone.)

You Were The Joke.

I Never Needed You.

I Didn’t Need You,

Every Instance You Toyed With Me In Lilly.

I Didn’t Need You,

Each Time You Chased Me Through That Alley…

(Willy-Nilly.)

I Didn’t Need You,

Each Stupid,

(Sexist,)

Joke You Directed Shoved My Direction…

I Should Have Avoided,

Every Demeaning Comment You Threw In My Face.

I Didn’t Fucking Need You,

You Left,

Friends With He…

(Peter.)

You,

A Magician,

Hiding Amongst Black Lace.

Do You Think He Would Have Accepted You?

Had He Known…

(You Thought You Were My Mistress.)

How Fake You Would Have To Be…

To Look At Him,

Then Look At Me.

You Never Extinguished His Fire…

Just Coward In The Corner…

(Gaze Cold And Dead:)

Than Walked The Opposite Direction,

(A Spineless Jellyfish Instead.)

You Didn’t Have To Witness Me Turn To Ash,

You Never Guessed,

I Would Rise From The Soot.

You Never Assumed,

I Would Publish Your Guilty Foot.

You Watched Me Burn,

(Turned A Frozen Cheek,)

I Never Died,

Resided Within This Infirmary,

So Sad,

So Bleak.

I Swallowed Those Pills…

A Couple Weeks After You Refused To Move In.

I Sat In That Tub For Eternity,

(Taste-buds Drenched In Tin.)

I Woke Up In This Medical Room,

A Clawfoot Riddled In Despair.

The Nurse Licked My Wounds,

A Tender Love,

(The Infirmary,)

Saturated The Infected Air.

A Price To Pay For All Services Rendered,

An Obedient Slavery,

Such Exchange For Care Tendered.

I Survived.

Found Myself,

Within My Own Death.

Trapped For Eternity,

(Ash Saturated Breath.)

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