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wolf-queer-discourse · 3 years

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Adventures in Aphobia #1

So I was scrolling through Tumblr the other day (a regrettable mistake as always), and I had the great pleasure of seeing this joyous post.

*deep breath*

Not gonna lie, posts like this make me real pissed. Pissed because the person who posted this exists in a space where they feel comfortable enough to post this online. Pissed because these posts are so common and often face little backlash. And pissed because there’s nothing better than allosexuals condescendingly explaining to asexual people why they’re dirty attention whores who invent their own oppression. Ace people deserve to be defended against this horseshit. Young people see these posts, and it’s extremely damaging to have your identity be nothing more than fuel for people in discourse to mock you and demand you bled in order for them to notice your pain.

Anger aside, many people do not see why this post is wrong, so why is it? Let’s unpack this clusterfuck of bigotry:

“would love to see substantive evidence of systematic “aphobia” that isn’t actually just misogyny, toxic masculinity, or rpe culture.”

God damn, we are not mincing our words here XD. A few things: systematic in bold, which tells you if you do not make a blood sacrifice on the altar of queer pain you will not be taken seriously. Potential nitpick, but systemic and systematic are not the same thing. I believe systemic is the word they’re looking for. Systematic implies a lot more intentionality that can be hard to prove. Systemic merely means that systems, in their current state, do aphobic things, which they absolutely do.

“Aphobia” in quotes is absolutely rich. Not only will this person refuse to acknowledge systemic aphobia, which is only one type, but this poster casts clear doubt upon the mere concept of aphobia in and of itself. We love to see it.

There’s a lot to unpack here. The statement, as clearly condescending as intended, is sort of correct, though it doesn’t mean a whole lot. Systemic oppression is about the systems in a society (government, healthcare, etc) discriminating against people. Systemic oppression is not bigotry faced on a person-to-person level. In short, systematic oppression is something a person experiences in their overall life, while personal discrimination is experienced on a personal level by people who are not singularly in control of the systems. This post boils down the negative comments ace people face into being called “weird”, which is an understatement for sure, but calling a gay person weird isn’t systemic oppression either.

It’s still bad and discriminatory.

This is such a snotty way to dismiss aphobia as some mere, insignificant comment with no meaning as if it doesn’t reinforce society’s painful aphobic views in the same way casual homophobic comments reinforce heteronormativity and society’s hostility toward gay people.

Ace people face discrimination in healthcare, most notably, which is systemic discrimination, but the systemic discrimination of asexuals really ought to be its own post if I’m to nosedive into it. Even if ace people faced no systemic discrimination, it wouldn’t make this point anymore correct. Discrimination is a perfectly valid reason to feel disregarded by society, and often only ace people are denied the right to feel this way and are instead gaslit into admitting what they face is no big deal and they’re just making it up for attention.

The experience of being pressured to have sex when you’re allo vs ace is very different. The vast majority of allo people do not plan to be celibate their whole lives. Many ace people do not want to have sex, ever. “Waiting for sex” in much of western society and in Christianity is seen as pure and honorable. Yet being asexual and never wanting sex is seen as a deviant disorder and people are accused of robbing their partner of sex forever.

There’s really a specific flavor of sexual pressure that is unique to ace people. Sex being to “fix” someone or because they “just need to try it”.

In this respect, aphobic sexual pressure is better compared to that faced by gay people and lesbians. Lesbians especially often can face this same struggle, men pressuring them to have sex because they think lesbians just need to “try it” or to “fix them”. I can imagine this poster would have no issue acknowledging lesbophobia being the root of lesbians coerced into sex with men, yet she does not give ace people the same.

Imagine if someone said (and knowing our fucked world, someone probably has): “Lesbophobia doesn’t exist. It’s just misogyny. Straight women are coerced into sex too!”

It’d be pathetic bullshit. Toxic masculinity, misogyny and many other issues can all tangle into combined messes with other forms of bigotry. Lesbophobia is an experience that deserves to be recognized apart from misogyny, even if the two are linked. Please stop erasing ace people’s experiences with this when it’s not the same thing.

Honestly, though, this post, as trashy as it is, if anything, is perhaps, really asking: Is there any type of aphobic experience that’s inherently exclusive to ace people?

I still wager to go say, yes, yes there is, but I must make an important point first:

Most experiences of queer discrimination are not limited to queer people.

Homophobia and transphobia are both experienced by cishets in certain instances. Feminine straight men can be victims of homophobic harassment. This does not disprove the fact that it’s homophobia just because a straight man is the victim of it. A tall cis woman with broad shoulders and a lower voice may be the victim of transphobic remarks or comments. The basis of these comments is rooted in transphobia, however, so the fact that the victim is cis does not erase the transphobia.

People who argue that experiences ace people complain about can be experienced by allosexuals are not poking a legitimate hole in doing this. Certain experiences related to aphobia can and are experienced by allosexuals. If you do not acknowledge this, then homophobia and transphobia aren’t real because cishet people have sometimes experienced them.

Despite cishets sometimes experiencing queerphobia, most of us acknowledge that their experience of that bigotry, however unfortunate, is not the same as that experienced by actual queer people. It’d be quite homophobic for a feminine straight man to claim he knew just as much about the gay experience as an actual gay man. Similarly, when allosexual people relate experiences that were rooted in aphobia, it’s overstepping a line when they claim asexual discrimination isn’t real because they experienced elements of it too.

Cishet (cishet including allosexuals) people do not experience their doctors telling them their sexuality might be a disorder or caused by trauma. Allo queer people can experience this with their sexualities too.

“using sex appeal to sell products is misogyny, it is not engineered to gross sex-repulsed people, it is meant to objectify women.”

This is a strawman thinner than my last nerve. Uh, what? What ace people are you seeing that literally think sex appeal was engineered to gross-out sex-repulsed people?? I don’t think this is a core argument??

Yes, sex-repulsed ace people sometimes complain about sex appeal in media being uncomfortable. But that’s it. Every time an ace person shares a discomfort of theirs doesn’t mean it’s the entire basis of their oppression. For the love of God, let ace people discuss their experiences without being blow-torched over not being oppressed enough with an individual discomfort.

BONUS ROUND

(This was in the tags)

“Completely vilifies celibate individuals”

...no…? What…? Huh…?

The most charitable interpretation of this vague accusation is that the poster means celibate people face aphobia as well, due to not wanting to have sex. I have no idea how this “vilifies” anyone, but that aside, as said before: people who are not queer can face aphobia. Also worth noting that society treats celibate people way better than ace people, which is really another example of aphobia. Celibate people can be told they’re missing out (which could be at very least related to aphobic ideals), but they’re rarely called broken. Celibacy is seen more as a respected, controlled ideal in allo people, but when ace people want to do it, they’re just mentally ill.

Anyway, the post was aphobic trash, and it needs to be debunked more often. Mocking ace people online is not a good look anymore, guys. Don't be ugly.

#discourse #queer discourse #LGBT discourse #Adventures in Aphobia #ace discourse #asexual discourse #aphobia #ace discrimination #asexual #asexuality #LGBT #queer #ace #rant #aphobes have no shame but they should #imagine having a brain smoother than a banana peel

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checkurwindow · 3 years

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ten ways

Book: Open Heart

Warning: So sweet your dentist would be concerned Rating: General Pairing: Bryce x F!MC Word count: 6500+ Author’s note: I finally wrote something that isn’t angst and oh god is it long. I spent so much time on this so please please consider reblogging and let me know what you thought of it, and maybe check out my masterlist while you’re at it.

There was truly no better way to start off senior year than arriving late to her first class.

In her defense, she had left the house early. For once in her life, she was actually going to be early to school. She was so proud of herself, and was so certain that she had extra time that she allowed herself to stop at a drive-thru and get a drink as a reward to herself. Everything was going according to plan.

That is, until the lady in the car in front of her decided she wasn’t pleased with her order and made the barista redo it; and to make sure he didn’t mess up her order a second time, the barista was extra careful. And extra slow.

She groaned as she watched the time tick pass minute by minute. Just her luck.

She watched the barista hand the drink to the lady in front and breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, the car didn’t move, not a single inch. The drink was already in her hand, but the lady just had to continue to talk with the barista.

She cursed under her breath and banged her head on the steering wheel in frustration. She must’ve been more aggressive than she was expecting, because her horn went off, and loudly at that.

She jumped back in shock at the noise. The lady poked her head out of her car window and immediately began lecturing her on how rude she was being. At least, that’s what she assumed she was saying, she really couldn’t hear her with her windows rolled up. She bit her lip, gave a little wave, and mouthed an apology.

Eventually, the lady finished her rant and left the drive-thru. She got her drink, no longer a reward and more of a consolation, and sped to school.

There weren’t any other students in the parking lot by the time she got there, only a reminder of just how late she was. Shoving all her things back inside her backpack, she locked the door and hurried into the building.

Of course, her first class just had to be with Mr. Anderson. Any other teacher would have just let her tardiness slide, but not him, never him. She opened the door to his classroom, and any conversation that had been going on stopped.

More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned their attention to her, and she wanted to melt into the floor right then and there.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Mr. Anderson addressed her. He narrowed his eyes at the nervous student, leaning against his desk as he sized her up, “if you’re done being a distraction to my class, I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat.

She swallowed roughly and nodded. He went back to lecturing the class on how his classes would be conducted, and she did her best to find a seat as quietly as she could. Instinctively, she made her way over to where her friends were sitting.

Bryce moved his backpack off the desk next to him and quietly whispered, “I saved you a seat.”

She gave him a grateful smile and mouthed back a ‘thanks’.

Sienna leaned forward, “Anderson really wasn’t amused with you, huh?”

“I swear he hates me,” she insisted.

Bryce rolled his eyes, “he doesn’t hate you, Boo.”

“Bryce is right,” she said, “everyone knows he just hates women,” she stressed the last part with exaggerated disgust.

Late-night study sessions had evolved to become code for hanging out at Danny’s house and messing around.

Sienna was dating Danny, so naturally, she had become friends with him and his friends by association. Sienna, Aurora, and her were actually trying to study. Danny and Elijah were discussing the school football team’s chances of winning their next game, and Jackie and Bryce were in the kitchen getting snacks and undoubtedly bickering about something completely irrelevant.

“Okay, Sienna,” Aurora held up a flashcard, “what can you tell me about the defenestration of Prague?”

“Uh, people were thrown out of windows for fun?” She replied, barely having read that chapter of the textbook.

“No- well, actually, I suppose you’re technically not completely wrong.”

She let her body fall back against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. If she had to stay there any longer, she would’ve thrown herself out the window.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hang out with her friends, it was just that after a long day of school, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to spend more time with the people she had already spent most of the day with.

“Sorry I’m late, I just spent the better part of the last hour trying to explain to a group of freshmen that I won’t be dating or teaching “my ways” to any one of them,” he shuddered dramatically as he walked into the living room where everyone was.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot I was friends with the Bryce Lahela,” she said overdramatically.

He rolled his eyes but decided to amuse her nonetheless, “what can I say, I’m just clearly superior.”

She scoffed but refused to dignify him with any further response. Instead, she closed her eyes and pretended she was back at home under her warm, soft covers.

“I brought you food.”

That caught her attention. Cautiously opening an eye to see if he was telling the truth, she was met with the sight of him holding up a bag of fast food that he must have picked up on his way over. She couldn’t help the growing smile on her face as she sat upright.

“For me?” She asked.

“Of course, Munchkin” he handed the bag over to her, “you skipped lunch to finish up the science project you were behind on and I’m certain you haven’t gotten around to eating anything yet,” he said confidently.

She happily pulled an order of large fries out of the bag, “have I ever told you how amazing you are, Bryce?”

He smiled, “not often enough.”

“Well, you are. So amazing.”

She had just finished the fries and was looking through the back to see what else he had gotten her when Danny called out to her.

“What are your thoughts on Rafael?” He asked.

“Aveiro?”

“Yep.”

She tilted her head, “he’s okay, pretty cute. Why?”

“He told me he likes you, even wanted me to ask if you were single?” Danny said nonchalantly.

Sienna immediately got invested and joined in on the conversation, “she is very single, and I for one think they would be a great couple!”

She could feel her cheeks begin to heat up, and suddenly she found the hardwood floors very interesting, “I don’t know…he actually likes me?”

“That’s what he told me,” Danny replied, “can I give him your number?”

She weighed her options before giving a careless shrug, “Yeah, why not?”

“You and Rafael? I knew this day would come,” Aurora commented.

“Okay, we’ve talked about this long enough. We need to study,” she insisted, pulling out her textbook.

“I’d rather not fail this test,” Bryce agreed.

Everyone begrudgingly went back to their previous activities, and Bryce took that opportunity to fill up the space next to her on the couch. She flipped through pages of her textbook before coming to a stop. She passed the textbook to Bryce and pointed to a large picture on the page.

“This one’s my favourite,” she said.

“Wanderer above the Sea of Fog,” he read, “you’re a fan of Caspar David Friedrich?”

She shrugged, “I guess I’m just a fan of the Romantic moment in general. Everything was so creative and beautiful. I just think it’s crazy how this painting holds so much emotion.”

Bryce frowned, looked at the painting, then back at her, “it certainly is romantic.”

She gave the painting one last look before she began flipping through the pages of the textbook again. Bryce watched her curiously as she read over the vocabulary words for that week. After a while, he decided to say what was on his mind.

“So,” he broke the silence, “you and Rafael, huh?”

“Yeah,” suddenly, the furry carpet on the floor looked beyond interesting, “I used to have a crush on him in middle school, remember?”

His mouth broke out into a smile, “Sienna and I used to tease you about it all the time! No wonder you’re so bad at chemistry,” he joked.

“I happen to be pretty extraordinary at chemistry, thank you very much.”

��Hm, I think that botched experiment that nearly killed Mrs. Durnam tells a very different story,” he said, and she playfully punched his arm.

“She’s still alive, isn’t he? Plus, you were the one who didn’t make me double-check!”

He had an amused look on his face, “keep telling that to yourself, babe.”

He was tired, the sheets were too hot. It had been a long day, his body was exhausted. The air in his bedroom was too cold, his mind was tired, too. If he would just close his eyes and stop thinking, he’d be asleep in mere minutes. Now the sheets were hot again, so he kicked them off. Then the air was too cold, so he pulled the sheets over him again. Not thinking ironically proved to be harder than perceived. Go then if you must, but remember, no matter how fooli- damn it, Sophocles, damn your terribly beautiful words.

Bryce threw the covers onto the other side of the bed and sat up. He wasn’t going to get much sleep that night no matter how hard he tried, anyway, no need to lie to himself. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, if there even had been any sleep in the first place.

There was no doubt that he was tired both mentally and physically. But emotionally? His heart was eternally restless when it came that. He crossed his room and sat down at the expensive wooden desk, fully accepting that getting any rest that night was no longer a viable option.

The bright light from his computer was a harsh contrast to the darkness of the room, but his eyes adjusted soon enough. Bryce didn’t even know what he was doing on his computer in the middle of the night.

But his subconscious knew. His fingers opened up the application and started scrolling. No, no, yes. God, no. yes, definitely, perfect. And that went on for an hour or so, though Bryce wasn’t exactly keeping track of time. He’d be near-dead at sunrise, but he wasn’t going to get any sleep until he finished.

When he actually did finish, he smiled contentedly to himself. A wave of calmness washed over him, and before he knew it, he was face down and lost in his dreams asleep.

He looked terrible the next morning. Well, as terrible as Bryce Lahela could look. He still dressed as great as always, even styling his hair with a little more volume than usual. He was still sharp as ever in class, but anyone who really knew him could tell that he was a total mess.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked during lunch in Mr. Jericho’s classroom (He had been kind enough to let a bunch of teenagers spend lunch in his class; the cafeteria just wasn't cool enough for them).

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

She cocked her head to one side, “no you aren’t, spill.”

“Don’t worry about me. I actually have a little something for you,” Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You have something for me?”

“Sending it now. Aaaand…...check your phone!”

She raised an eyebrow and cautiously unlocked her phone to look at the text he had sent to her.

“Sophocles and Serotonin,” she read off her phone, “ what is this?”

“I made you a playlist of songs that I thought you’d like.”

“Seriously?” A smile emerged on her lips, and Bryce couldn’t help himself but to reflect it, “When did you even have the time for this?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I happened to have free time last night.”

“With Mr. Anderson's early deadlines? I smell a steaming hot pile of bullshit, Lahela,” She looked up at him, a teasing lilt prominent in her tone, “I appreciate the playlist even more now that I know you took the time out of your night to make it. Thank you, Bryce.”

She leaned forward on the desk she was seated on and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He froze like a deer in headlights, and if she noticed, she definitely didn’t say anything. He compiled himself back together before she could notice that his usual smirk wasn’t as smug as it usually was, and leaned back against the desk behind him in an attempt to look cool.

“So, what’re you doing after school?” He asked in his best casual voice.

“Rafael and I are going to see a movie.”

“That’s actually still a thing?”

She shot him a look that made him raise his hands up in surrender, “Yes, it’s still a thing. He’s a good guy, I really like him.”

“But is he good enough for you?” He crossed his arms, eyes not leaving hers. It wasn’t that Bryce didn’t like Rafael. Rafael was great, but no guy would ever be good enough for his best friend.

“He is,” She said with an eye roll, “why do you care anyway?”

“Just looking out for you, Sweetheart.”

“I can take care of myself perfectly fine, Scout.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead, an impressed look across his face, “trust me, I know.”

Summer felt like an eternity ago, when in reality, it had been less than two months ago The yellow-orange leaves and updated Starbucks menu was enough to convince anyone that it was already October.

It took a lot of sweet-talking and a tiny bit of bribery to convince Bryce to attend the Homecoming football game, but with Sienna’s assistance, she eventually got him to cave. She wanted him there, but more importantly, she wanted him to give her a ride there.

Of course, she could have taken her own car, but she would much rather not waste her own gas when she could take advantage of his instead. It wasn’t like it mattered to him, his parents paid for his car, insurance, and gas anyway. Plus, the seat warming function in his cushy Mercedes Benz was a huge incentive.

She spent most of the ride over to the stadium raving over the seat warmers, and he spent most of the ride making fun of how obsessed she was with said seat warmer. Eventually, they parked outside and paid for the entrance fees.

“It’s kinda co-” before she could even finish her sentence remarking the cold weather, Bryce handed her a comfy looking (and feeling) sweatshirt. She looked down at the maroon sweatshirt, then back at him, her mouth slightly ajar, “You brought an extra sweatshirt for me? I didn’t even ask.”

“You didn’t need to,” he shrugged.

She put on the sweatshirt and stared at him with wide eyes. Bryce glanced at her, bit the inside of his lip, then shook his head, “Don’t go thinking I care about you or anything now, Lovey. I couldn’t have you taking the sweatshirt I’m wearing, then I’d freeze up.

She looked up at him with a smug grin on her face that made him regret bringing her the sweatshirt in the first place, “Yeah? Is that really all it was?”

“Yes, that’s all, Sunshine,” he did his best to act all annoyed by her questioning, but instead found it endearing in the end.

It took him a moment, but eventually, he came up with a half-decent excuse, “besides, you know my grandma would kill me if she knew I let you freeze. I swear, sometimes it seems like she loves you more than she loves me.”

“That’s because she does,” she pointed it out like it was the only possibility, “can you blame her? I’m funny and adorable. You’re just a grumpy old man that I had to drag to this game.”

“That’s it. Take the sweatshirt off, I hope you freeze,” he said with the dirtiest look he could muster and she had the audacity to throw her head back and laugh.

She reached into her bag, and after digging around, she pulled a five-dollar bill out of her wallet. Thrusting the money into Bryce’s hand and pushing him in the direction of the concession stand, “here, go get some popcorn for us. Maybe then you won’t be so irritable once you get some food in you, I’ll find us some good seats.’

Bryce grumbled something about “you’re irritable” but nonetheless ventured off towards the concession stand.

She climbed the steps up the stadium and immediately found Sienna and Danny sitting in the student section, all decked out in their school colours and face paint. Sienna greeted her with a warm hug.

Pulling back, Sienna took note of what she was wearing, “is that Bryce’s?”

She looked down at the Stanford sweatshirt she had wrapped around herself, “Oh yes, it’s pretty comfortable, actually.”

Sienna pursed her lips and mulled over the new information, “What’s going on between the two of you?”

“What do you mean? We’re friends,” she shrugged.

“And Bryce knows that?” She paused, “Do you know that?”

She narrowed her eyes at Sienna, “Yes, of course I know that. I’m dating Rafael now, okay? Bryce and I have always just been friends, and that's all we’ll ever be.” Sienna nodded her head, “Okay, okay. If you say so, I believe you. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt, I care about both of you.”

“There aren’t any feelings between Bryce and I, don’t worry,” she said, but those words didn’t leave her mind for the rest of the night.

Bryce had spent a significant amount of the week dreaming about the coffee and cookie dough ice cream that was waiting for him in the freezer.

It was his favourite flavour, and there was just enough left in the carton for one last bowl of that sweet sweet goodness of a food. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t eat the last of it until he really deserved to. After spending his afternoon being productive and studying for the test he had tomorrow, he decided that he finally earned that delectable bowl of unhealthy but utterly delicious caramel-colored ice cream.

He made his way down to the kitchen, humming an upbeat tune and sliding across the smooth marble floor in his most comfortable pair of socks. Bryce had made it all the way to the freezer, barely moments away from the compartment holding his currently most prized possession when a hasty knock at the front door stopped him in his tracks.

He paused. He was oh so close to getting to his ice cream; maybe it was just a delivery? He debated answering the door or ignoring it and getting the ice cream first. He was starting to lean towards just going for his bowl of ice cream when there was a knock at the door again. With a scowl on his face, he abandoned the freezer and any hope for happiness he had left and made his way to the front door.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” He said in surprise when he saw who was standing at her doorstep.

“I didn’t know who else to go to. Sienna’s out with Danny, and Aurora and Jackie aren’t good in situations like this,” she spoke quietly and sniffled in between sentences, trying not to let any more tears fall down her cheek, “sorry, I just-”

He interrupted her by pulling her into the darkening sky and into his house and arms. She melted into his touch and gripped his shirt tightly as she hugged him back.

“What happened?” he asked softly, rubbing circles into her back with his thumbs.

“Rafael and I broke up.”

Bryce sighed softly and rested his chin on her head. He bit his lip and weighed the options in front of him, before he came to a reluctant conclusion. He pulled away just enough so that he could look her in her teary bloodshot eyes.

“I think this is the part where we break out the ice cream.”

She offered him a slightly trembling smile, “ice cream couldn’t hurt.”

He led her to the kitchen and began digging through the freezer while she hopped onto the counter beside him. He hid a frown from her while in the process of pulling the nearly empty carton of coffee and cookie dough ice cream out of the freezer.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Bryce asked, retrieving a bowl from one of the cabinets.

“It wasn’t even a bad break up,” Despite her words, she still wiped at her tears using the sleeves of her shirt, “we mutually agreed that it was best for both of us.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, “he’s just...not the one, I guess.”

Bryce felt something twist and turn in his stomach, and he knew it wasn’t right to be happy when his friend was so miserable, but he was anyway. He did his best to hide the smile that wanted to form at the corners of his mouth, “I’m sorry, Cupcake.”

She laughed, “Cupcake?”

He rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face remained, “I’m trying something new, okay? Running out of nicknames.”

She couldn’t help but match his infectious smile, “you’re not gonna have any ice cream?” she asked as he passed her the bowl.

“Nah, not in the mood for it,” he lied.

“Did you get enough sleep last night, Hon?” She was already in mid-yawn when he had asked the question.

She held a hand over her mouth and nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You look terrible.”

She scowled at him, “wow, just what a girl wants to hear. Anyone ever tell you you’re one hell of a charmer, Lahela?”

“You’d be surprised, actually,” he gave her a teasing smile, “so who’s the cause for your sleepless night?”

“Napoleon Bonaparte.” She made an emphasis on the textbook in her hands, “Why’d I ever let you convince me to take an AP class with you?”

“Because you so desperately enjoy spending time with me?”

“Nah, that’s not it.”

“Ouch,” Bryce held a hand over his heart, “you really stayed up late studying for the quiz?”

“Some people have to study, okay? Not everyone is as gifted as Bryce flippin’ Lahela.”

“Flippin’? Really?” He stifled a laugh.

“We’re at school, gotta keep it PG,” she shrugged, “so yeah, I stay up and study sometimes. High schoolers aren’t supposed to get a normal amount of sleep, it’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I worry about you.”

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a small smile, “you don’t need to worry about me, Bry.”

“Believe me, if I could just shut it off, I would. Look, I’ll make you a stack of flashcards next time so you can get more sleep.”

She was about to say something in response when her phone rang in her pocket, “I should get this.”

She went out into the hallway to answer the call, and Bryce turned back to his lunch, not even bothering to hide his growing smile.

“Bryce.”

He jumped at the sound of a voice and turned to see Sienna sitting at the desk across from him. Had she been listening to them the whole time? He had completely forgotten she was there; a fact he certainly wasn’t about to share with her.

“Yes, Sienna?”

“Do you have a crush on her?”

Bryce blinked a few times, certain that he hadn’t heard Sienna right, “Excuse me?

Sienna rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “You heard me right. I’m not blind, Bryce. I see the way you look at her when you think no one is focusing. Do you have a crush on her?”

“That’s ridiculous, where’d you even get the idea from?”” He made a face like he was disgusted by the very thought of it.

“Oh, I dunno, you just do whatever it takes to make her happy. Not to mention that you have a different pet name for her every time I see you two, seems pretty affectionate to me, Bryce.” She did always have a talent for laying out the facts.

“We’ve been friends since before I could remember, of course I care about her. And so what if I have a nickname for her? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s not like you have a nickname for anyone else.”

“I call you...Si...all the time,” he paused to rethink what he just said, “I have a nickname for everyone.”

“We both know that’s a load of B.S, are you really telling me that you don’t like her?”

“I don’t like her,” and it wasn’t an exact lie, because the feelings he had for her had progressed far beyond liking.

“There’s nothing people appreciate more than a hand-made gift, right?” She said and pulled out a ball of azure coloured yarn.

Bryce crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a wall, “Sure, except maybe a nice Rolex or a new car.”

She gave him a look, “I don’t know what it is about me that makes you think I can afford a Rolex or a new car. I’m an unemployed high school student, my only income comes in the form of birthday cards from my grandparents.”

“Well, I’m sure Sienna will love the scarf you make for her.”

“Yeah, how hard could it be?” She muttered and stared blankly at the mess of strings in her lap.

His eyes widened a little, “Wait, you’re telling me you’ve never crocheted before?”

“I'll get the hang of it soon enough,” she pulled up a beginners guide on YouTube, and five minutes later, she had a knotted pile of yarn in her hands. She huffed in frustration and began to aggressively pull at the yarn.

“Let me help you.”

“You? Know how to knit?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

Bryce rolled his eyes, sitting next to her and taking the “scarf” out of her hands, “This is crocheting. You don’t even use knitting needles”

“Apologies. And how do you even know how to crochet?”

“I may or may not have taken lessons a couple summers back to impress Alisson Rivers?” He admitted, quickly untangling her “progress” and began to expertly thread the loops of yarn together. He held up his work to her once a pattern had begun to form, “being incredibly sexy has its perks,” he jokingly winked at her.

“I hate that you’re good at everything.”

He snorted and gently began to move the work into her hands for her to finish the rest, “Not everything, maybe just most things.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” She waved him off, now laser-focused on the project in front of her and determined to get it right that time. Bryce gave her tips and advice every once in a while, but for the most part, he let her work on it by herself. She was a fast learner.

“Sweethea-” Bryce cut himself off, remembering the conversation he had with Sienna earlier. He cleared his throat, “you’re never gonna get it like that.”

She looked up at him with furrowed brows, “What?” He swallowed roughly and shook his head, “It’s nothing. Just...you’re going to wanna pull the yarn a little tighter or it’s all going to unravel before you’re even finished.”

“Oh,” She gave him a thankful smile, “thanks, Bryce.”

It was almost 2 in the morning, and she knew that getting any more than four of sleep was out of the equation at that point. She wasn’t exactly trying very hard to sleep. She had tried to refresh her Instagram feed maybe two dozen times now, but it wasn’t as if anyone was going to post in the middle of the night. And even so, Instagram was doing a fairly poor job at keeping her mind distracted.

Sighing out in frustration, she threw her body back onto her bed with a loud sigh. She wrinkled her nose and finally caved in to her temptations, navigating to the facetime app on her phone. Hesitating one last time, she tapped his contact with her thumb. The phone began to hum as she waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, Bry. I know it’s late,” she said when he finally answered the phone. She frowned when he realised he was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, no. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” replied his groggy and raspy voice.

“I know you’re lying, Bryce. Don’t worry about it, go back to sleep”

“I was already up.”

“No, you weren’t. It’s really fine, don’t let me bother you.

He stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at her firmly through the camera, “Maybe I was asleep, but I’m up now, aren’t I? Don’t worry about waking me up. Besides, I’d much rather be talking to you.’

She pursed her lips, giving him a doubtful look. He was too polite to ever tell her if she was bothering him. She couldn’t tell if he genuinely wanted to talk to her, or if he was too courteous to tell her otherwise.

He noticed the look she gave him, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me. I would’ve stopped being friends with you years ago if I didn’t find all your annoying habits endearing as hell. I promise,” he shot her a smug smile that almost made her wish she hadn’t called him up.

“How kind of you,” she said sarcastically.

“I try,” his grin widened, if that were even possible, “so what did you want to talk to me about?”

She chewed on her bottom lip and shrugged, “I dunno.”

“You don’t?” Bryce narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to the camera. After he had examined her carefully, he leaned back and crossed his arms, “Yeah you do. What is it?”

She shifted uncomfortably by how easy it was for him to see right through her. Once more that night, she caved, “Earlier, when you told me to tighten the yarn. You stopped yourself from calling me ‘sweetheart’.”

He tensed, but she didn’t notice, “I mean, what’s so unusual about that? That's a perfectly normal thing for someone to do.”

“I know,” she nodded, “but you always call me some cheesy pet name. Always. So, did something happen? Are you mad at me?”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, “No, of course not. Everything’s fine,” he paused, “that really upset you?”

“It’s just that you’ve always had a nickname for me, I guess I got used to it.”

He laughed through his nose and couldn’t stop the amused smile from spreading across his lips, “Okay, Boo.”

“Am I finally going to get to see your mural?”

Bryce rolled his eyes, “It isn’t my mural, Love. It’s the senior mural, it’s not like I’m painting it.”

“Yeah, but it was your idea,” she gave him a playful nudge, “I don’t know why you haven’t told me what it is yet. I’m sure if the amazing Bryce Lahela designed it, it’ll be the best senior mural this school has ever seen.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Babe. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” she said matter-of-factly, “you’re Bryce Lahela.”

They turned the corner to see their fellow senior, Kyra Santana, working on the mural. The previously beige wall was now covered in black, gray, and light blue paint. In the middle of the painting was a figure made up of colourful handprints standing above the blue-gray ocean in front of them.

She stared at the mural with an open mouth. She glanced from Kyra, to Bryce, then back to the artwork in front of her.

“It was my idea to make the figure all colourful with the handprints,” Bryce said, “I thought it would be nice to let our class literally leave a mark on this school.”

Kyra smiled at the mural and set her paintbrush down, “I was a great idea, the splash of colour is just what it needed,” she turned to her, “what do you think?”

“Like it? No, I...I love it, it’s perfect,” she turned to Bryce with wide eyes, “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog, this is my favourite painting.”

“I noticed--don’t give me that look. It’s not like I care that much, you just never shut up about this painting. It’s annoying, really,” he muttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his shoes.

She smiled and turned her attention back to the mural, “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love this. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course. It’s worth it, seeing how much you like it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You’re the kind of person I could fall in love with, you know that?” She didn’t take her eyes off the wall that the mural proudly sat on, and Bryce was glad.

Maybe if she had looked at him, she would have seen his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen just a little bit. If he was the kind of person she could fall in love with, then why didn’t she? Bryce was flustered, and if she had noticed his lack of response, she didn’t mention it.

10.

Their high school was filled with rich kids. Their high school also had a debate team with a minimal number of members. These factors resulted in Bryce and her having their own separate hotel rooms when they attended a debate function in Washington D.C.

After a long day of debating and watching other teams debate, she and Bryce walked side by side down the narrow corridor to their respective rooms. Every now and then, they sneaked looks at each other when they thought the other wouldn’t notice.

Bryce cleared his throat, “So that guy in the blue shirt asked me for your number.”

She glanced up at him, “He did? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“Thought he was out of your league. I told him you snored like an ogre and gave him Jackie’s number instead,” he said with a careless shrug.

She gasped and shoved his shoulder, “Are you kidding me? You know I don’t snore, he was cute and interested in me!”

“Can’t imagine why.”

She scowled, “For your information, I’m adorable. I’m funny, enjoyable to be around, and have a high tolerance for assholes who shut down opportunities for their friends. And I’m extremely attractive, which is an added plus.”

“You don’t need to sell me on reasons why you’re dateable,” he chuckled softly.

“Oh yeah?”

At that very moment, they turned to face each other. Their teasing banter stopped when they realised that they were only inches apart, able to hear every inhale and exhale of the other. His gaze flickered down to her lips, and it was only for a second, but she hadn’t missed a single bit of it.

Bryce took a step back and cleared his throat, standing rather uncomfortably, “It’s late, we should go to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she echoed before they both hurriedly turned around and stepped into their own rooms.

Had he almost kissed her? Did that really just happen? Her mind wandered as she leaned against her hotel room door.

Maybe she had just imagined it. She shook the thought out of her head and grabbed a sweatshirt along with a pair of shorts out of her suitcase. Maybe she would stop thinking about it after a good night's rest. She changed, brushed her teeth, and was about to turn the lights off when she felt that nagging feeling bubble up in the pits of her stomach once more.

It was naive to think her mind would stop racing that night if she didn’t confront Bryce about it. She set the covers that were in her hands down and made her way out into the fluorescent-lit hallway. She had made it all the way to his door when she stopped herself.

Was that really what she wanted to do? If she brought up their almost-kiss, would they ever be able to go back to being friends? Did she even want them to go back to being just friends? She bit her lip and glanced back at her own room door. She should’ve just gone to bed, it wasn’t worth putting their entire friendship on the line. But then again, she would always wonder what could have happened if she never followed her gut.

She raised her fist to knock on his door, but before she could make contact, the door swung open. They once more stood face to face, their wide-eyed expressions mirroring each other. For a moment in time, all that stood between them were the accelerated heartbeat and the flutters they felt for one another.

Bryce’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Her hand had found its place on the back of his neck and guided his lips to hers. His eyes were half-open, sneaking glances at her to assure himself that he wasn’t dreaming. Her overwhelming scent and the feeling of his hands threaded through her hair were all too real.

He pulled her into his room, kicking the closed door behind him. Placing both hands on his broad chest, she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

Thoughts were racing in her mind. She tried to put reason to the way he gripped her waist so tightly that there were sure to be bruises there the very next day. She tried to put reason to the way his pupils dilated as she went in for another kiss; she came up empty-handed.

There was no way she felt the same, Bryce told himself. There was no way that she loved him the way he loved her. For as long as he could remember, he had been in love with her, and for as long as he could remember, she had only seen him as her friend.

He missed the warmth of her lips when she pulled away, but he couldn’t help but admire the way her lips were slightly swollen and her hair was a mess. Her eyes were mesmerising, and the way the light highlighted the softness of her skin made him fall even more. He took that moment to memorise every line and curve of her face, forever branding that memory into his head.

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pushed her away this time and sat up, “Stop. we...we can’t do this. This can’t just be a one-time thing.”

“What?”

He felt his heart twist inside his chest and he clenched his jaw, “Because I love you.”

Her lips curled up in a smile, “I love you too.”

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imaginesforyourfandom · 5 years

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Loving Her: Alex Morgan - Chapter 8

(Y/N) POV:

“In conclusion, these women are nothing more than your typical arrogant Americans who think they are better than the rest of the world based purely off of the fact that they are American.”

“Jesus…” Kelley said as Alex finished reading one of the hundreds of articles about how we are a bunch of bullies. We are currently in a room getting massages and doing recovery as we are talking about controversy that followed last nights game.

“I don’t think I am better because I am American…I think I am better because I’m more talented.” I said earning a few chuckles from some of the girls around the room.

“That might be the attitude that got us into this mess.” Pinoe said as I shrugged my shoulders. “Way to stay humble though…”

“I can’t help how amazing I am….” I said laughing as they shook their heads.

“Kaylyn Kyle is also on Twitter talking about getting death threats after her comments about us.” Alex said as she continued scrolling on her phone.

“Listen, this is the World Cup. Goal differential matters and maybe we celebrated too hard, but again this is the World Cup. I’m going to celebrate every single goal like it’s the last.” I said as there were a few head nods.

“I’m over talking about it already to be honest…” Alex commented as I nodded my head along with her.

“You’re going to get asked a million times about it.” Allie said as she groaned.

“I know…”

“In other news, most of America has decided that they don’t like that you didn’t put your hand on your heart and that you didn’t sing the anthem.” Allie said looking to Pinoe who rolled her eyes.

“We been knew about this…next!” she said as Allie laughed.

“Most of our fans are calling you out for flirting with Alex during the game…” she said looking at me as I grinned.

“I was flirting, and she was flirting back…” I said looking to Alex who blew a kiss at me. I grinned at her sending her a wink as the others groaned.

“Oh hey!” Kelley said looking across to me. “I finally figured out why you and Christen don’t like admitting your best friends…”

“Oh, pray tell…” I said with disinterest as I turned to look at Alex who shot me an amused smile.

“So, when she first got to Utah, I really did think you guys had like a thing…” I could have got whiplash with how fast I turned my head as Alex scowled at Kelley who grinned at us. “Wait…hang on let me explain…”

“You thought we had a thing?” I asked with a disgusted look. “I mean like yeah she’s hot…but like also gross…”

“Excuse me?” I turned to Alex who was now scowling at me.

“I think you’re the hottest person I have ever met…” I said as Allie and Pinoe were practically on the ground cracking up. Alex shot me a look as Kelley continued.

“Yeah I thought you guys had a thing…you spent a lot of time together at each other’s places. So, naturally…I was like they like each other which was confusing because you know as far as I knew Chris and Tobs were together and you were madly in love with Alex…then I realized that yes you were in fact extremely into Alex so I was like okay so they aren’t together…”

I was staring at her in disbelief as Alex just settled on glaring at both of us. Allie was grinning looking back and forth between us as Pinoe was still trying to stop herself from laughing.

“So, it settles that you guys are best friends because you spend a lot of time together, you have your own little inside jokes, and you genuinely just seem to have each other’s backs. You also love to annoy each other, and you hate to admit that you are best friends. Which leads me to believe that you have a very antagonistic friendship. Normally, I would just say these are two people who don’t like each other and leave it at that, but like you do care about each other so much.” She finished as I thought about it. I mean she wasn’t completely wrong, but the idea of admitting that Christen was my best friend just seemed annoying.

“That actually makes a lot of sense. You do love to annoy each other, but your also like one of the first to defend each other. You seem to be pretty informed on each other’s lives and your connection on the field is super strong which would indicate that you are in fact close...” Pinoe commented as I made a face. I turned to face Alex who still looked mildly irritated.

"Look away. I’m not over your comment yet.” She said as I looked back at Kelley who shot me a grin and thumbs up.

“I didn’t know you were such a genius Kelley.” I said sarcastically as she nodded her head.

“I keep telling you…” she said before getting a serious look. “Do you not agree though?”

“I feel like…your half right…”

“I’ll take it.” She said with a wide smile as I rolled my eyes. I finished my massage before everyone else, so I offered to wait with Alex who shot me a small glare.

“Okay. Your still not over the comment…I’ll give you a little space.” I said as I kissed her forehead. “I love you”

As I walked out of the room, my phone rang. I picked it up with a smile when I realized who was calling.

“Well…I didn’t realize that my best friend was such an arrogant jerk.” I laughed at Sebastian’s comment.

“Me neither.” I joked as he laughed.

“We watched the game yesterday. We were very proud of you.” He said as I smiled. “Mom was freaking out when you scored. Though, she does think you could have been nicer to the other team.”

“It’s the World Cup. I don’t have time to go easy on anyone. You can tell Mama Alvarez that I am sorry though.” I said as I approached my room. I opened the door and sat down as I continued talking to him.

“I understand that and I’ll let her know. Santiago thinks you weren’t ruthless enough.”

“Santiago just likes to watch people cry.” I commented earning a chuckle from Sebastian.

“Yeah…how are things though?” he asked as I laid there thinking about it.

“It’s going pretty good. I’m relieved that the tournament has finally begun for us.”

“Yeah I get that…I am really sorry we can’t be there.”

“I know.” I said not wanting to have this conversation again. “You guys all have jobs and lives. It doesn’t just stop because I am playing in the World Cup.”

“Yeah, but I am sure everyone else’s family is there and technically we are your family.” He said as I nodded my head. “We aren’t being a very good family right now.”

“Seb…I don’t want to talk about this right now.” I said as I felt my eyes stinging slightly. “I appreciate everything you guys have done for me…and hopefully I will be able to come home and stay home soon.”

“You’re still trying to do that…” he said with a little bit of shock in his voice. “I thought you were happy in Utah.”

“I am, but I also want to come home and be with you guys…my family.” I said as I heard him sigh.

“Aren’t you worried about the consequences of your actions?”

“A little…there’s no guarantee that anyone finds out what I did…in this case, the reward is worth the risk.”

“Does your girlfriend at least know?”

“No…I need to tell her, so she isn’t blindsided, but it’s not exactly easy saying you fucked over one of your friends…”

“I can only imagine….how are things going between you guys?” he asked me curiously and I couldn’t be more grateful for the subject change.

“It’s going really well…I opened up to her about what happened with my family…”

“Yeah Santiago told me…he said he was super proud of you and so am I…” I smiled a little at his comment of being proud of me. “I imagine it was really difficult for you…”

“Yeah…it’s hard letting people in. She took it all really well though…I was pretty grateful.”

“Santiago said something about her threatening to fight you family…?” I let out a laugh.

“Yeah, she definitely wants to fight them…” I said as I heard the door open. Alex walked in and she still looked a little upset. “Seb I think I need to call you back.”

“Okay. I got to get going anyway. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I tossed my phone to the side as I watched her move around the room. She was refusing to look at me which only caused me to smile.

“Are you really giving me the silent treatment?” I asked as she glanced at me which only caused me to grin and let out a laugh. “You are…”

“Shut up…” she mumbled as I pouted and stood up. I walked towards her and wrapped my arms around her waist from behind resting my head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” I said as she stopped what she was doing. I took that as encouragement to go on. “I think that you are the most breathtaking thing I have ever seen…the first time I ever saw you was in 2014…I was playing for FCKC and you were playing for Portland and I saw you and you took my breath away. I was too afraid to talk to you because you were Alex Morgan and I was just some random person. Then, I came onto the team and I started to get to know you and when I say I fell completely head over heels…it’s an understatement. I already thought you were beautiful, but you took my whole heart with your mind and the way you look at the world. I was a goner. Completely and irreversibly in love.”

She had completely relaxed into my arms at this point as I swayed us slightly. She had intertwined our fingers as I placed a small kiss on her neck. I turned my head slightly as I looked at her.

“There’s never going to be anyone who means more to me or makes my heart beat the way you do.”

That seemed to be enough as she then turned in my arms slightly bringing her hand up to the back of my neck as she connected our lips. I kept my hands on her waist as the kiss got deeper. Eventually, air became a necessity as she leaned her forehead on mine. Our breaths were short as we stared into each other’s eyes.

“I need you so much.” She said as I nodded my head slightly.

“I need you too.” I said as she leaned in and kissed me again. “Loving you is the only thing that has gotten me through the past couple years…I mean yeah we’ve been together for like a month, but it feels like so much longer than that…”

“I know what you mean…I feel like we’ve been together for years at this point…” I picked her up as I laid us down knowing our best conversations came when we were laying down comfortable with each other. She rolled her eyes but happily accepted my actions.

“I can’t imagine my life without you…” I admitted as she adjusted her position, so she was laying directly on top of me with her head on my chest looking up at me.

“Me neither...I see my future with you and only you.”

“It might be a little premature, but like…I see it all with you…” I said as she gave me a soft look. “I see marriage and kids and having a house near our families and growing old together…” She had a smile on her face as she leaned up to kiss me and then hovered over me.

“Do we have a dog? Or any pets at all?”

“Plenty of pets…a house close to the beach so we can take the kids there…Kelley can teach them to surf. Tobin will try to teach them to skate until one of them falls and then it’s immediately vetoed. Sebastian and Santiago will fight over which one of them is the favorite Uncle while Jeri and Jeni duke it out with Kelley and Sydney and the others over who the favorite Aunt is...we will lose our minds over the amount of people who try to spoil them…” She had a grin on her face as I smiled up at her.

“Everyone knows you buy the love…” she commented as I nodded my head.

“Obviously, I’ll take them to Sebs and Santi’s moms house so she can teach them all the good recipes like she taught me…”

“Oh, I didn’t know you could cook…” she said with a playful smile

“Yeah, it’s one of my many talents, but it’s better they learn from her…”

“Will our kids play soccer?”

“Only if they want to…we wouldn’t want to force them into anything…whatever they decide to do is what we will support…and we are going to love our kids unconditionally…they will know that we would do anything for them. That we will always protect them and care for them and never make them feel like they can’t come to us…” I said getting slightly emotional. She gave me a soft kiss.

“I can’t wait to have kids with you…you’re going to be an amazing parent.” She said as I smiled at her.

“I only want kids if I can have them with you…” I said as she nodded her head.

“How coincidental because I only want kids if they are with you too…” I grinned at her as I leaned up and kissed her with as much passion as I could muster up.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She smiled at me as I stared into her eyes. “I am sorry by the way…”

“It’s fine. I overreacted. I just get protective because what we have is so special and I don’t want anything or anyone to ruin that.” I gave her a soft smile.

“There isn’t a thing in this world that could take me away from you.” I said as she smiled at me.

The rest of that day and the next few days seemed to fly as we got to the Chile game. Alex was pulled away a little more because of having to do media for the team with Pinoe. So, that sucked. I spent the time she wasn’t around with Christen, Becky, Tierna, and JJ. I sort of rotated between the four. Mainly Christen or Becky though. Becky had been pleasantly surprised upon finding out that I had opened up to Alex about my past. She called it a breakthrough. I disagree, but she’s a little smarter than me so I don’t have enough ground to stand on to disagree.

The game against Chile was going to be a good one. We’d be fools to count them out especially considering they have Christiane Endler. I knew how talented she was, and I wanted to play against her so badly, but alas Alex and I were both not starting because most of the starters were left on the bench to rest. I was disappointed to not get to play but ultimately, I was happy to cheer on the rest of my teammates once the game actually started.

Christen was tearing it up during the whole game, yet she never scored which was injustice given some of her shots. I cringed a little when Carli missed the penalty. I could tell the entire bench was shook as we watched the midfielder miss.

“We are never going to hear the end of this…” I said as Alex gave me a look shaking her head. Though, Kelley shot me a small amused smile. It ended up being okay though because Carli scored two and JJ walked away with one goal. All in all, we were in a good mood because the win meant we were going to knockouts. That was the goal for the first couple games, so we did exactly what we set out to do. So Far.

The next big test would be Sweden and I was pumped to get to play against them. I knew the big storyline was that they had knocked the US out during the Olympics, but I knew it was exhausting to talk about with everyone.

“Well done!” I said giving Christen a hug as the forward smiled. “I’m actually really mad that you didn’t score.”

“It’s fine. We got the win. That’s what matters.” I nodded my head as we walked towards the rest of the team after the game.

“On to the knockouts.” I said as she nodded her head.

“Got to play Sweden first though…”

“Yeah, you nervous for that game?” I asked as she shook her head.

“A little. I know everyone is going to make it about getting knocked out of the Olympics.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking…” I said as we approached our team. We joined the huddle as Jill talked for a few minutes before walking off. Christen and I continued walking as I saw and pulled JJ in for a hug.

“Nice goal my friend…” I said as she smiled at me.

“Thanks!” she said as I kissed her forehead.

“You’re beautiful head.” I joked getting laughs from her and Christen as they hugged.

“It was a good assist.” She said as I nodded. I searched around the field for Tierna and spotted her talking to Kelley and Becky.

“Yeah, I feel like she’s the future of this team…I mean she can do that at her age…where will she be in five years?”

“I know right?” Christen said as we came across Lindsay, Mal, Rose, Sam, and Sonnett. “I used to think the same thing about Mal.”

“What about me?” she asked as she looked between us.

“You had so much potential and now I just think what went wrong…” I said as her jaw dropped, and a pout formed.

“She skipped college and went pro…that’s what happened.” Christen said as I grinned and hit her shoulder getting a smile in return.

“I hate you guys.” Mal said with a pout as I pulled her into me.

“Oh, come on…we are just playing…we love you so much…” I said as the forward tried to get away from me.

“No, you guys are jerks…” she said as Christen let out a laugh.

“The Non-Best friends strike again…” Lindsay said as everyone laughed when Christen and I both immediately made faces at each other and shook our heads.

“Not best friends.” Christen said as I nodded my head to her statement. JJ shook her head as the others immediately started disagreeing with us.

“If you guys aren’t best friends, then Lindsay and Mal never skipped college to go pro.” Sonnet said as Lindsay and Mal both turned to Sonnett with glares. I laughed as I shook my head.

We all then started making our way to the locker room as Christen and I continued talking about the Sweden game…eventually the topic switched to Alex and me.

“Things are going really well…getting pretty serious…” I said as she smiled.

“I’m really happy for you…” she said softly as I looked at her and nodded my head.

“I am equally happy for you and Tobs…but if you tell anyone I said that…”

“I know.” She said before I could finish my sentence. “You’ll kill me.”

When we got into the locker room, I gathered all my stuff. I walked towards Alex who sent me a small smile. I hugged the forward as she stroked the back of my hair.

“To the Knockouts, but first Sweden.” She nodded her head to my statement.

“Got to get past Sweden first.” We exited the locker room and made our way back to the hotel, mostly everyone was pretty tired, so it was off to bed.

As I was laying with Alex in bed, she was tracing patterns on the portion of my skin that was exposed from t-shirt being up a little.

“You’re disappointed you didn’t get to start huh….” She said after a moment. I nodded my head a little.

“Yeah…I was at first at least…I think it’s the first time that I have ever enjoyed just watching the team play…with me not playing at all and you not being on the field either…”

“You like to watch when I play…?” she asked looking up at me.

“Yeah, I am fascinated by everything you do…especially when you play.” She smiled leaning in to give me a kiss.

“You always know just what to say huh…” she said as I grinned and nodded my head.

“Another one of my many talents” she shook her head giving me another kiss.

“Yeah, well go to sleep Ms. Talented” she said turning our light off and snuggling into me.

“I love you.” I said kissing her forehead.

“I love you too.” She mumbled as we both drifted off to sleep.

To Be Continued…

#alex morgan #alex morgan imagine #alex morgan imagines #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt

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the-quiet-winds · 5 years

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Don’t Look Back at this Crumbling Fool (part one)

did you ask for a sad fic? no. am i giving you one anyway? yes. another co-written piece with the amazing @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts, and this one has a lot of feels in it.

trigger warning for hateful words and self-deprecation

[Part 1: Think of Me in the Depths of Your Despair]

as their band became more and more popular, the demand for some kind of album grew, and eventually their manager got everything in place for each of the queens to record their songs, and then after several months of remastering and audio mixing the album was finally complete. a few days before the physical copy was released, each track was also released on YouTube, a website that katherine had become increasingly familiar with during her time in the 21st century. that morning, katherine loads up youtube and finds one specific song in particular. jane’s angelic voice fills the air as katherine turns up the volume as loud as it’ll go, unable to stop herself from smiling as she hears her mum’s voice.

jane walks past her bedroom and pokes her head around the door. “that loud enough for you?” she teases. katherine smiles honestly.

“i’ve got to make sure everyone hears how amazing my mum is.”

jane laughs at that. she enters the room, taking a moment to admire the instrumentals and harmonies in her song, before plopping a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “i bet you sound even better,” she teases.

only a few short days later, jane’s enthusiasm for the album plummeted.

she is watching a video that katherine had sent her, one of their affectionately called “megasix” at the end of the show, when her own song shows up in the “suggested” bar. unable to resist, she clicks on it, and the recognizable piano starts. transfixed by the voice that somehow was hers, she doesn’t realize she is scrolling down the page. then, she sees it.

some fellow named “jack of none master of all” left a comment:

“worst song on the soundtrack. cheesy, overemotional, really weak compared to the others. guess every album has to have one flop, ain’t it a bit ironic it came from henry’s worst wife? snivelling and weak in this life, cruel and manipulative in the last. surrounded by honest, strong women as she is, it’s too obvious that jane seymour is the worst of the six.”

the words sting, and jane’s eyes widen slightly as she reads the comment. ‘is that really what other people thought of the song?’ she wonders to herself. she tries to forget about it, clicks another video of them all singing together, but she can’t get her mind off the comment. it wasn’t just what they said about the song that hurt her, but what they said about her herself; she’d already been worried about people thinking she was boring, that her story wasn’t exciting enough, and the second part of the comment seems to confirm her fears.

katherine enters the room humming Heart of Stone and jane feels a jolt at the tune, frowning suddenly and looking down at the screen.

“hey mum!” katherine greets chipperly. at seeing her mother’s less-than-enthusiastic response, she mellows. “what’s up?”

jane fights an internal battle in the span of three seconds. she wants to show katherine the comment and ask ‘is this how everyone feels?’ but that just feels shallow somewhere deep down.

“nothing love, just a bit tired, that’s all. two shows yesterday,” she leans back and stretches, “takes a lot out of your ol’ mum.”

“oh yeah,” katherine nods, taking a seat at the other end of the couch. “i get it. it was a really cool crowd last night, though, wasn’t it? i spoke to these two girls after the show and they were telling me all about how much they loved it!”

jane can’t help herself, and she finds herself leaning back and casually asking, “oh, that’s lovely, what did they say?” she tries to tell herself that she’s just making conversation, that she wasn’t trying to fish for information about what people thought of her song, but the anxiousness that filters into her brain while waiting for katherine to reply tells a different story.

“they couldn’t stop talking about me and boleyn, can you believe it?” katherine gushes. “they said that they died laughing during her song and they thought mine was super deep.” she stopped to contemplate. “they loved the last two numbers, and one of them said that parr had such a cool story, while the other said aragon easily would have ‘kicked henry’s arse’,” she quoted with a laugh. she doesn’t notice how none of the commentary pertains to her mum, and the slight fall of the woman’s face upon that realization.

jane can’t help but pick up on the fact that she wasn’t mentioned, and it all adds to her slowly building pile of evidence that maybe she was the worst one, that her song wasn’t as interesting or as good or genuinely emotional as the other queens. after all, after katherine spilling her heart out to the audience and parr offering them a moment of deep reflection, who would even remember a song about jane’s son? her mind whirs with activity, but on the outside she simply offers a slightly strained smile. “how sweet of them to be so kind about the show,” she says.

in hindsight, katherine would pinpoint that exact half-hearted smile as the moment that foresaw every event to follow that evening. in the moment, however, she saw nothing out of the ordinary.

their dressing room was a quiet din of activity, one thing that katherine loved. it's just her, her mum, and parr, so there's usually just low conversations and songs to be heard, mixed with the boisterous noise of aragon, boleyn, and cleves across the hall.

"places, queens!" the director calls, and parr makes her way to the hall knowingly. jane, as she does every night, pulls katherine into a tight hug. "mum loves you, kitty-kat," she murmurs the familiar words without a thought, "in this life or any other."

the show starts as it generally would, huge applause after the first number, aragon's song getting everyone dancing in their seats, boleyn's has them in in stitches...then it's jane's turn. she starts to sing the achingly familiar melody, feeling more insecure about herself than ever before. just moments into the second verse, she looks up and sees one audience member yawn dramatically to his date, who chuckles. every previous feeling jane had of inadequacy bubbles to the surface, and she lowers her mic, nods once to the audience, then walks off the stage, leaving five queens and four band members confused. cleves, desperate to not let it stop the show, immediately launches into her monologue, playing off jane's sudden exit with a joke.

katherine watched helplessly as jane leaves the stage, unsure of what to do. if she left the stage with her number coming up then she’d potentially end up messing up the rest of the show, but if she stayed then jane would be backstage by herself. the worst part was that katherine didn’t know what happened to make jane leave the stage. she shoots a glance at the other queens; they were about to leave the stage to get their neon ruffs, and katherine makes up her mind right then that she wouldn’t be coming back on without jane.

as she gets backstage she ignores her ruff and sunglasses, instead slipping past the surprised backstage manager who attempts to stop her. katherine ignores the frantic whisper for her to come back, and she follows the glimpse of a black and white dress disappearing around the doorway to the dressing rooms.

parr presses a few fingers to her forehead as she sees katherine dart off into the dark. this show is going to be one to remember. she hears the manager whisper-shouting to grace, the swing for when any of the women were absent from the show, that she was going on for howard.

"mum!" katherine hisses as she follows her down the corridor. "mum!" either jane doesn't hear or is ignoring her (katherine hopes it is the first one) and closes the door to their dressing room with a surprising amount of force. katherine knocks quietly, yet firmly, and keeps her lips very close to the door. "mum what's going on?"

there’s silence from the other side of the door, before a strained voice on the other side speaks. “kat, get back to the stage,” jane says, voice thick with emotion. “you’re going to miss your song.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” katherine shakes her head. “please, can i come in?”

katherine could be incredibly stubborn when she wanted to be, and jane knows this. she knows that if she refused, kat would just sit outside the door and wait until jane inevitably had to let her and parr back in to change out of their costumes. the sound of a lock clicking fills the air and katherine opens the door, entering the dressing room and closing the door behind her.

her mother looks a mess.

her makeup is smudged, lipstick and mascara creating a horrible caricature, her shoes and mic-pack are discarded, and jane looks some horrid combination of angry and depressed. the monitor on the wall blares to life as haus of holbein starts, and jane immediately goes over and shuts it all the way down, resisting the urge to throw something at it. “you should be on stage,” jane finally says, not meeting katherine’s eyes.

“well, i’m not,” katherine says simply, as if that was the end of it. “you should be onstage too, y’know.”

“i’m aware, katherine,” jane half-huffs, still looking anywhere except katherine’s eyes. kat takes a step towards her, concern filling her features.

“mum, why did you leave like that? did something happen?” her voice is soft and worried.

"i am absolutely fine, katherine," jane hisses. she hates that she's taking out her anger on kat, who dropped the show and is going to get a lot of heat from the director just to be with her. jane feels so incredibly frustrated that she can't even think straight. needing to burn off some of the energy, she picks up one of her shoes and hurls it. it collides with her mirror, sending shattered pieces of glass raining to the ground. jane runs a hand roughly through her hair, knocking off her crown as she digs her nails into her scalp. "everything is perfectly fine."

katherine jumps at the shattering of glass and her eyes widen. “mum-” she starts, before pausing. “it- it doesn’t seem like everything’s fine.” Her voice comes out a lot more timid than she intended, but it scares her, seeing jane like this. she swallows and stands slightly taller, reaching a hand out to gently touch jane’s arm. “please, mum, you can talk to me. i want to help, if I can.”

jane pulls back. she tries to take a calming breath but nothing helps. she just feels so angry and humiliated and is taking it out on her poor daughter who just wants to help. “katherine howard seymour,” she says in a low voice, “i’d recommend you leave before i say something i really, really regret.”

a chill runs down katherine’s spine, her stomach twisting slightly. “i don’t want to go,” she says, and her voice is small and weak, sounding like a lost child. “please, mum.”

she doesn’t know what to do. she’s never seen her mum quite like this before; she’s seen her upset, even angry, but not so irrationally angry that she’d break the things around her.

plus, jane never extended katherine’s name like that. it was always kat, or kitty-kat, or any number of affectionate nicknames, but never her full name. she doesn’t want to go, she wants to stay and make things better, but then jane turns to her, and the look in her eyes terrifies katherine.

jane walks over to the monitor and flips it on, listening for just a moment, before flipping it off again. they were just about to finish haus of holbein. she can’t face katherine like this, anger and jealousy and mountains of insecurity swirling in her stomach, so she faces away, shoulders hunched, voice still dangerously low. “go do your number, we will deal with this later, katherine.”

katherine doesn’t want to go, she really doesn’t, but she doesn’t know what else to do. “okay,” she says quietly, voice cracking slightly. “i- i love you, mum,” she adds as a desperate reassurance. she didn’t want jane to think she was abandoning her or anything, and her heart hurts as she turns around and leaves the dressing room. she tries to blink back the tears as she races back towards the stage, almost bumping into grace in her haste. grace looks relieved and calls the backstage manager over, who shoots katherine a look that’s a cross between thankful and angry before shooing her onto the stage with the others just in time for the intro to Get Down. katherine can’t concentrate during Cleves’ number, feet moving on autopilot, looking less like a video vixen and more like a lost child. her mind is back in the dressing room with jane, regretting giving in and leaving, giving anything to not be so scared and pathetic as to leave her mum alone back there.

jane lets out a shuddering sigh as katherine leaves, waits a second, then bursts into angry and upset tears. she curls up on herself, then ends up in a ball on the floor. the monitor on the wall is still lowly humming, and jane, through her tears, hears the familiar intro to all you wanna do. there’s a pain in katherine’s voice that makes jane hurt worse, a tremble in the high notes that jane knows she is the cause of. all she can do is lay on the floor, dangerously close to the mound of broken glass, and relish in being “the worst of henry’s wives.”

it’s ironic, in a way, how the pain that jane caused her daughter comes through in her voice, makes her song even more intense and emotional, and at the end jane can hear the audience screaming and cheering and applauding louder than ever for katherine. a terrible, bitter jealousy flows through jane at the sound and she hates herself for it, hates that she could ever feel such negativity even momentarily towards sweet, darling kat, who only wanted to help her. jane supposes this is about what she deserves; it’s not even like jane suffered at henry’s hands, at least, not nearly as badly as the others had. why should she get to share in their show at all?

as parr starts telling her story, she feels that bitter rush again. parr speaks so eloquently, and singing makes it even better and more poignant. they start to talk, grace filling jane’s spot, and her already fragile sense of self crumbles further. she feels absolutely worthless, a story that doesn’t matter, a piece of wood amongst jewelry. it hurts, hurts horribly. she closes her eyes and tries to tune out the chipper ukulele sound as the group number starts.

she lies there for a few more moments, trying to block out the sound, before letting out a sigh. she supposes she should leave before the other queens get offstage; she can’t face them like this, not with the negativity running through her. she finally gets to her feet and changes into her regular clothes, slipping her shoes on and grabbing her bag as she hears the last note of the final song over the monitor. going for a walk to cool off seems like a good idea to her right now. she makes her way to the stage door quickly, slipping out as quietly as possible and setting off down the street.

#six the musical #six musical #jane seymour #katherine howard #julie and jess write #don't look back at this crumbling fool

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skyechaser · 5 years

Text

Silence in Atlas 20/?

Once more, this is a dark take on Volume 7 from a Bumbleby standpoint. It has scenes of graphic violence. If there are any specific trigger warnings I will specify it.

Hello, everyone! Like always thank for the support and all the comments. They fill me with joy and strenght to write. I didn’t think I’d have time to write this last few days but thank you insomnia jajaja SO HERE WE GO! :D

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

“Everything seems fine” Doctor Yu said as he looked at the documents in his hands. “We’ll send you home today” Blake smiled like she hadn’t since she was taken. Leaving the hospital was so exciting. She was finally going to be able to start rebuilding her life, go back to doing what she was supposed to be doing: being a huntress.

“That is so good to hear, doc” Yang replied. “Do we need to take any kind of precautions?”

“I know you are both huntresses so just take it easy at the beginning. I’m sure you’ll be able to get back to your life soon. Just don’t overdo it at first, okay?” Blake nodded in response. She placed a hand on her chin and moved it forwards in the direction of the doctor.

“Blake says thank you” Yang translated. The doctor looked at them with a puzzled look on his eyes.

“Yeah, I got it” he said “You are learning sign language?” he asked, feeling both a tug in his heart and a smile on his lips.

“We are” the blonde answered. “We don’t know how long it will take before she gets her voice back so in the meantime…”

“I wanted to talk to you about that” Yu interrupted. “We have sent Ms. Belladonna's test results and analysis to the top experts in bioengineering. They are working on a solution for her and for the other faunus who had they cords cut”

“Thank you so much, doc” Yang said. She was so glad this man was Blake’s main doctor. She couldn’t imagine how things would have turned out if they got someone else. She knew there were several doctors that had refused to even see the faunus.

“Don’t thank me, Ms. Xiao Long” he replied “I’m just doing my job and I want what’s best for my patient. By the way, you need to come back in a couple of days to get that cast removed” Yu added as he pointed at Yang’s left hand.

“Okay, doc, I will”

“Would you mind coming with me so we can take an x-ray to see how it’s healing?” he asked. Yang didn’t want to leave Blake alone but as soon as she turned to look at her, the faunus placed both her index fingers in the corners of her mouth and moved them forwards.

“Okay, I’ll go” she replied “I’ll be back soon, baby” she said as she kissed her girlfriend’s forehead. Both her and Doctor Yu exited the room and walked silently for a couple of minutes. It took Yang a while to realized they were going to his office.

“Weren’t we going to take an x-ray of my hand?” she asked. The doctor continued walking as he replied.

“Your hand is going to be fine. We need to discuss something else”. Yang could feel her heart beating in her ears. The last time Yu had given her news in his office she ended up beating a wall until she broke two fingers. Once they arrived both of them sat down. Deep breath.

“So I read Ms. Belladonna’s statement to the military” the doctor said. “And she makes no mention of any sort of sexual assault”.

“So that means that it didn’t happen” Yang replied, feeling some of the weight off her shoulders.

“Not exactly. There are many women that prefer not to report this sort of things. However, an official statement is a serious matter so I’d like to believe she hasn’t hidden anything”

“I’d like to think so too”

“As her significant other I would advise you to talk about the subject at some point, maybe she’ll be more honest with you than she was with the officer”. Yang nodded. That wasn’t a conversation she’d look forward too but she was probably the only person that could actually talk to Blake about the matter. She prayed her girlfriend’s statement was true.

“Doc, could you do me a favor?” she asked. The doctor looked at her with questioning eyes.

“Sure” he answered.

“Are there any specific names that she mentioned on the statement? They won’t let me read it”. She wanted to know who had hurt Blake. She wanted a name so she could focus all of her rage on that person and find them. Don’t kill anyone. Did that mantra even make sense at this point?

“I’m breaking every single protocol right now” Yu looked down, took a deep breath and then looked up into lilac eyes. “There are two names that she mentions a lot: Aleph from The Traders and Yudok from the mine”. Yang knew the people from Staub were in military custody and would be sent to jail soon so Yudok was already done for. The other man, however, was still out there with his fucking gang.

“Aleph” she said between her teeth. That was the name of the man that had put a shock collar on Blake and had electrocuted her to the point where her aura couldn’t even heal her. The man that had starved her and then sold her like she was an object. She made a vow, right there at the doctor’s office, that she would find this Aleph. What she would do next wasn’t really clear.

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

“I wasn’t expecting any visitors” Agape said with a smile “But all my friend’s from high school came to see me. Even some that aren’t actually my friends. It felt nice”.

“Seems lovely” Blake wrote on the scroll tablet.

“Have your friends come to see you?” the bear faunus asked. Blake nodded in response and wrote once more.

“All of my team came”

“That sounds great” the girl smiled. “And your parents?” she questioned.

“They are in Menagerie. The lockdown won’t let them come and see her” Yang replied as she entered the room. Neither faunus had realized the blonde had arrived, both of them lost in each other’s company.

“Yang!” Agape exclaimed. “It is so nice that we finally got to meet each other”

“Right back at you” the blonde replied. “Blake told me what you both went through” she added, offering the younger girl a handshake. Agape shook her hand with a smile. The blonde then walked towards her girlfriend. When she was close enough to the bed she gently placed a hand on the faunus’ cheek. “Hello, gorgeous” she said flirtatiously “Are you here very often?” Blake grinned.

“You two are just too cute together” the bear faunus said. Both young women blushed as they looked away from each other. Blake turned around, pulled on Yangs jacket and pointed at her cast..

“My hand?” she asked and then remembered the excuse Yu had used to talk to her alone. “It’s fine. Doc says three more days and they’ll take it off”. Blake smiled in response and Yang felt awful for lying to her.

“So, Yang” Agape called and the alluded one turned around to face her “How did you two meet?”

“We met in Beacon Academy” the blonde recalled as she sat down on her chair. “I wanted Ruby, my sister, to talk to someone and I just saw Blake and went for it. She wasn’t very into it at first”. Blake laughed silently as she pointed to herself. Then she held one hand in front of her while the other one hovered above it with two fingers extended. “You were being antisocial, that is what you were doing” Yang teased.

“What did she say?” Agape asked, wanting to get the joke.

“Oh, sorry” the blonde replied. “She says she was reading. Which she was but…”

“If she was reading why did you pick her?” the bear faunus asked. Yang asked herself the same question. There were lots of other people around, why did she choose Blake? Maybe she knew. Maybe she had always known. She had felt it before she even knew what it was.

“I don’t know” she answered finally “For some reason it just made sense. I just felt it”.

“And how did you became part of the same team?”

“Well… We were kinda thrown into the air and paired up with whoever we saw first once we landed” Yang saw how Agape’s eyes opened wide in disbelieve. There was something very comforting about the younger girl’s presence. She laughed a bit before speaking again. “I guess it was just meant to be”.

Blake looked at her and moved her head sideways as she pointed at herself. Then she made fists with her hands, both with the thumb extended, and moved them forwards. Finally, she pointed at Yang.

“You followed me?” the blonde exclaimed and her girlfriend nodded.

“I think I just might die from cuteness overload here” Agape said, the picture in front of her too sweet to process.

“Why did you follow me?” Blake smiled as she took the scroll tablet. She hadn’t learnt the sign for what she wanted to say yet. The faunus’ wrote something and turned the screen towards Yang and Agape.

“I felt it too”

#silence in atlas #rwby #yang #blake #yang and blake #bumbleby #bumblebee #fanfic #fanfiction #sia #Skyechaser

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doeeyeddarlingxo · 4 years

Text

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 54

The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training - Chapter 54

AO3 | Previous | Next

Word Count: 2125

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Rating: T

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 54

He keeps his word.

To be clear, you only go without speaking to each other for a week. But you are the first to initiate contact—a smile in the hallway. You are the one who sends him an invitation to go horseback riding. You are the one who begins knocking on his door to discuss politics and philosophy for hours on end.

He puts the reins in your hands, and you accept them with grace.

But you don’t kiss again.

He’s leaving the choice to you in this, too, you know. And Lord knows you want to do it, want to kiss him.

But then you’ll see him interacting with the other women. Riding with Irina, reading with Rhea, playing piano with Rosa on the violin. And this is normal, you know. You can’t expect him to completely ignore the other women just because you’ve asked for space.

But it still leaves you at a loss, somehow.

***********************************************

There’s a knock on your door first thing in the morning.

“Come in, Meg,” you call out, your eyes still heavy. It’s been over a month since the Walden Incident (as you’ve since termed it in your head). It’s not much time, but you have been grateful to find sleep and security already coming more and more easily with each passing day.

“Not Meg.”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of his voice.

“May I come in? Are you decent?”

“Yes! I mean, wait. Give me two minutes.” You slip out from under the covers and onto the floor as silently as possible, tugging on the tie of your robe to make sure it's secure. You take quick jog to the bathroom to rinse your mouth and face, before returning to unlock the door.

And there he is, looking unfairly put-together for just after sunrise, with an enormous tray of food, which he hands to you. “I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but this seemed more practical.” He turns to leave.

You get over your shock soon enough to call out. “Wait!” He turns back, his eyes...hopeful, almost. “I mean, this is a lot of food for one person. If you want to join me…”

He hesitates. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

You give him a look. “At this point, I think you can trust me to tell you if I think you’re imposing.” It’s the kind of gentle ribbing you used to fling at him all the time, the kind that has only tentatively returned to your vocabulary in the last few weeks.

You can tell from his relieved smile that he’s noticed.

***********************************************

An hour later, the food is long gone, but you’re still talking. And somehow, you’ve ended up on the one topic you had planned to avoid: the other women. It seems this habit comes along with the familiarity.

“I mean, Rhea is just incredible at politics. Sorry, I mean Lady Rhea,” you joke. “Truly. She makes even Rosa and Irina look amateurish.”

“Just Rosa and Irina?”

You snort. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not as though making me look amateurish is a particularly high bar.”

He doesn’t laugh. Instead, a crease appears between his brows. “Why do you do that still? After all this time?”

“What?”

“Cut yourself down.”

“Is it really cutting myself down if I’m just stating the truth?”

"And there it is again." He's not looking at you again, agitated as he walks away from the bed. "I thought you'd finally accepted your place here."

"I don't understand."

"You didn't want to be here from the first. You’ve undermined yourself at nearly every possible turn."

"Then why am I still here?"

He shakes his head, still avoiding your gaze. "I know what people say about me outside these walls. What they think of me. Before the idea for the competition was announced, I spoke with some trusted individuals who suggested I show the world a different side of me. Raise up one of you Midgardians as my equal."

"But you didn't have to keep me.”

“You chose not to leave.”

“And maybe that was a mistake. What good am I doing here?”

“I told you - ”

“Don't give me that bull about getting a bigger audience. You'd still have just as many teen girls watching if I went home," you add accusingly. "I'm not a good fit."

"The response of our audience thus far would suggest otherwise."

You pad across the room to stand next to him in front of your dresser. He doesn't appear to notice; his gaze remains fixed on the smooth, shiny wooden surface. "What do you mean?"

"This is about public opinion as much as it is my own, if not more so. Part of the selection process was based on my own preferences, yes. But we've been paying attention to the civilian reaction."

"You mean, you know what people are saying about me? Right now?" You reach out and gently touch his arm. "Can I see?"

He sighs, but nods. Before you materializes a thin square of glass, like someone had taken an iPad and removed everything but the screen. The Good Evening, America website is displayed, a stars-and-stripes background with Ashley Marino's smiling face decorating the top right corner.

THE CHOOSING

MEET THE CHOSEN

You click on your name. It's strange, seeing your information page, the picture from last week’s shoot displayed next to facts such as your name, age, etc.

WHO DO YOU THINK WILL ASCEND TO THE THRONE?

On this page, there's a large pie chart, with four divisions. To your surprise, you’re in second place - you’d have thought for sure you’d be last. Rhea and Rosa are tied for first, with Irina following you. You scroll down, reading the various comments under your name.

~ (Y/N) is a little rough around the edges, but that's what I like most about her. And she's so mature for her age! ~

~ My favorite is definitely Lady (Y/N). She's so real and relatable! I think she'd make a great queen. ~

~ I was a little skeptical about the whole thing at first, but now I can't stop watching! My favorite segment was the masquerade ball - the looks on the girls’ faces were priceless! I can't believe (Y/N) didn't realize she was dancing with the king! ~

~ (Y/N) and I went to school together! She's a total sweetheart. If you're reading this, (Y/N), everyone from sophomore year English is still rooting for you! ~

~ I love (Y/N)! She and Loki have such awesome chemistry, I can't believe they haven't kissed yet! Irina's probably my second favorite. ~

There are many, many more. Much more than you would ever have expected.

"Is this for real?"

"Indeed. They are quite taken with you."

"And the others?"

"They appreciate Rhea and Irina's maturity. Rosa appeals to their need for drama. And you..." He gestures to the tablet. "You see."

"I see." You look back up at him. "But I still don't understand."

“I find that hard to believe when I quite literally just handed you the answers.” He turns away. You follow him as he paces around the room.

“I’m behind two other girls, both more capable than I am, and prettier, and probably much more everything. If this whole thing is just about publicity, why can’t you just send me home?”

You nearly run into him as he comes to a halt. “You’ve had the option to go home for nearly a year now. Is that really what you want?”

“I…” You stop yourself. “I don’t know.” You look down at your feet, feeling like a child who has just been reprimanded.

“Then you’ll stay.” Without so much as a glance in your direction, he heads for the door.

“But Lo - ”

He whirls around. “You forget yourself, Lady (Y/N). You are honor bound to stay and fulfill your duties as a Chosen without complaint until you are released or until the end of the competition, whichever comes first.”

You stare at him, feeling hollow. “So I have no choice anymore.”

For a long moment, neither of you blink. You will yourself to remain steady, to not cry. Finally, he speaks. “None of us have a choice in this, (Y/N). Not you, nor I, nor any of us. You would do well to remember that.”

You unfreeze just as he reaches the door. “So...so what?” He pauses, his hand resting on the knob. “You expect me to stay here and, what, entertain you with my mistakes? My silly Earthling sentiment? Let you use me as a lure to get rid of unsavory figures, to appease the fangirls, to win over the human race? I am not a tool - ”

“No, you are not. You are a Chosen one.” He stops and swallows, in what looks like an attempt to rein in his temper. “A ruler must do many unpleasant things for the good of their kingdom, and the same goes for rulers in training. If you were to become queen - ”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“How am I to know what it is you truly want, (Y/N)?” He runs a hand through his hair, almost yanking at it. “I have offered you the chance to leave time and time again. You have forfeited that right time and time again, and now is the time you choose to start fussing about it?”

“Maybe if—”

“I have no time for ‘maybes,’” he snaps. “The cameramen are getting anxious, as are my advisors. They want you to have more screen time, to more evenly divide it among the remaining contestants. You will report to my private quarters at six for a televised dinner.”

“Report?” you ask incredulously. “What is this, an army bunker?”

“I admire your spirit, (Y/N). It is one of the reasons why you are still here to have this argument with me. But you have a responsibility. You have become a role model for the people of your planet, and until the moment you leave this palace, you will behave as such. If I have to order you around to ensure that happens, so be it. It's entirely up to you.” His eyes flash as he finishes speaking: a challenge. He's what, testing me? Fine.

"Fine." He appears to be surprised by how readily you've agreed, but you continue talking before he can open his mouth. "I'll come to dinner. But don't expect me to suddenly feel thrilled to be here just because you refuse to let me leave."

He pauses, as though thinking it over. "As long as you're there."

And then he's gone.

***********************************************

You take time in constructing your appearance, enlisting Meg's help to put up your hair with delicate silver pins, each topped with a single, tiny black stone, one of the only pieces in your jewelry box that isn't some shade of green. You sit down to allow her to add the finishing touches: an ornate onyx necklace and earrings that match the hairpins.

"You're done, miss.”

You feel rebellious as you examine your reflection in the mirror. This dress is different from any you've worn before - low cut sweetheart neckline, with long sleeves that just barely miss your shoulders. Despite being a day dress, the skirt reaches the floor, fading into a slight train in the back, long enough to lend the piece a dramatic flair without tripping you up or slowing you down.

But none of that is the best part. No, the most wickedly wonderful thing about this dress is that, from bustline to train, the entire thing is varying shades of dark red. You don't know how Meg managed to pull it off, but she did, and in a big, big way: burgundy lace layered atop yards of smouldering maroon silk, the latter catching the light just so, each move you make sending a muted shimmer rippling through the fabric. You've made the executive decision to forgo the underskirt, which was thinner than normal to begin with, in favor of wearing it loose, and it drapes itself over your body in a way you didn't know was possible, clinging to your corset and hugging your hips before dropping so that it curves around the outline of your leg only when you take a step forward. The only thing that would make it more scandalous would be to put a slit in the skirt. To top it off, Meg used black kohl to give you a subtle cat's eye, brushing light amounts of eyeshadow just below your brow bone, and exaggerating the shape of your lips using a shade of rouge that matches the dress.

You look older.

You look fierce.

You look ready to kick some Psycho-Alien-Whatshisface ass.

Let's do this.

#loki #loki/reader #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #loki laufeyson #doeeyeddarling #myriad misadventures #fish fork

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brazil-also-loves-rwby · 5 years

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To move on 5 - RWBY FANFIC

Hello everyone. This is my fanfic Para Seguir Em Frente. I translated it because I received many visits from countries with English language. MY ENGLISH IS BAD AND YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Please comment. Originaly posted here https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13256016/1/To-move-on

Late at night, Oscar finally came home, tired after a long day at work. His body and aura were spent after a whole day practicing and demonstrating different uses of magic. He crawled upstairs, noting that Aunt May was not in her room. Exhausted, he took a moment to remember that she would spend the night at her boyfriend's house, Beryl Willow. This meant there was no food waiting for him in the fridge and he would have to get his own dinner. Sighing, Oscar placed an order for a nearby restaurant through his scroll while the tub was filled. Soon he sank into the hot water of the bath and allowed himself to relax as his mind wandered.

Six months have passed since the end of the Great War. Autumn came and went, giving way to the cold of winter. Still, Remnant never stopped. Destroyed buildings were repaired and new buildings rose every day. The academys themselves and their huge campus were already more than halfway to their old glory. Houses that lost their former owners in the war now accommodated new families in the face of a strong migration from the outside into the realms.

Oscar himself settled into his position as an academic professor of Magic. His first students returned to their kingdoms, but were immediately replaced by others. Every day they wrote theses about their discoveries of magic. They wrote schoolbooks for future classes that would be compulsory in public education and preparing new teachers.

Even magic was beginning to settle in people's lives. Oscar saw few chimneys spewing smoke, for magical fire had become a common practice. Some workers, on the docks or buildings, carried large loads in the air with ease. Little by little the world adapted to the new way of life.

But accustomed did not mean comfortable. Oscar had imagined that his popularity and his friends would fall over time, but he could not be more wrong. He was often invited (almost pressed) to attend interviews and talk shows. Jaune was stamped on the packaging of a morning cereal and Yang in energy drink commercials. Weiss had become the propaganda girl of her county, being invited to be the face of informational commercials related to magic.

It was a normal life, with daily highs and lows, and yet Oscar felt himself living in a Utopia. For years he doubted that these days of peace would come. He was so sure that he would be one more of Ozma's souls, and to his surprise, he became the last. His sleepy mind wandered into those dark days, sinking into memories.

- Ozpin, how exactly our souls are going to 'combine'?

Oscar admired the view of Atlas, protected from the cold wind that roared outside through the window. It was late at night and everyone was asleep. Only he remained awake, his mind too filled with doubts and insecurities to be able to rest in peace. Then he'd descended into the living room, where he would not disturb his roommates with their mental conversations.

In those moments Oscar could almost see Ospin in his reflection in the glass. His expressions, his moods and even his mental voice became more obvious, more different from his own.

- Like I said, it's a long, exhausting process. - Ozpin said with a resigned, sad sigh.

- But how exactly does it work? - Oscar pressed. Both remained tense for a long moment, while Ozpin chose the words he wanted to say.

- The process of integration begins the moment I reincarnate. The beginning is always the same: fear, doubts, constant concern for one's own sanity. Fortunately, we did not take long in this situation. There was a person, centuries ago, that I could never convince him that he was not crazy. He was completely convinced that some grimm had possessed him. - Oscar trembled at the memories that Ozpin let slip along with those words. - It was dark times. It was believed that discipline and self-flagellation could purge the body of evil and prevent grimms from approaching. I tried to stop him several times from hurting us, but one day he went too far and I was reincarnated again.

- I'm so sorry. - Oscar murmured.

- It was a long time ago, but thank you anyway. - Ozpin made the equivalent of a mental cough to compose himself and continued. - After that, we've reached the 'recognition' phase, so to speak. That's where we are now. We learn about each other. Our desires, dreams and goals, as well as our likes, dislikes and mannerisms. At some point, we will have learned everything we could over each other and our conversations have become less and less frequent. It will not be necessary to ask, for we will already know exactly how the other feels.

- That does not sound too bad. What next? - Ozpin sighed.

- It is at that moment that the assimilation begins. Because our minds are so similar, we end up deciding the same thing without thinking. Our tastes stop colliding: if you do not like coffee, but I absolutely love coffee, over time the stronger feeling will prevail and you would feel my satisfaction in drinking coffee instead of your own distaste. Barriers begin to become thinner and we begin to find it difficult to define where one begins and another ends. - Oscar swallowed, but Ozpin kept talking. - When someone calls your name, I answer the call. The 'you' becomes 'us' in time and then 'we' becomes 'I'. Who controls the body becomes irrelevant, since both would use it in the same way.

- I understand. - Oscar leaned his head against the glass, letting the cold cool his skin. - I always imagined that I would just ... disappear. But now I understand that when you reincarnate again, part of my personality will continue to permeate you.

- Yes. - Ozpin agreed. - I have always reincarnated in similar minds, as the god of light has established, but this does not mean they are same. Like Ozma, I've been a lot more foolish. Like Oswald, I've been completely in love with Remnant's women's love, like Osborne ...

- Wait. - Oscar interrupted, physically spreading his hands so that Ozpin held the reins of the conversation. - You were a casanova?

- Oswald was VERY attached not only to the pleasures of the flesh, but to the adventure of conquering a lady and causing her to fall in love with him. I believe it was the only time I could describe one of my companions as a narcissist. - Ozpin sounded exasperated, and that made Oscar laugh. - I was no stranger to being described as 'gallant' or 'gentleman,' but that was too much. This trait of Oswald was so strong that I think it took another two reincarnations to finally be able to look at a huntress wearing a short skirt without immediately being plagued by libidinous thoughts.

Oscar even pulled the air to question what he meant, just to hear Ozpin's measured and indignant response and have fun with it. But Ozpin's indignation was enough to make his memory grow. Oscar remembered what it was like to be sitting next to a woman close enough to feel the heat of her skin. The euphoria of imagining what kind of expression that stern woman would look at him if he slid his hand under the table and squeezed the firm, soft flesh of her white thigh ...

- Were you THAT kind of guy?! - Oscar exclaimed, suddenly surprised and shamefully excited by the feelings and sensations that the memory passed to him. Adolescents, after all, are easily 'impressionable'. - Thank the gods that you could curb that kind of thinking.

- I could curb that kind of thinking in my next incarnations. Ozpin corrected. Oscar could feel that he was as uncomfortable as himself. - But Oswald was not a man that just think.

- Please do not tell me he really did it...

This time Ozpin purposely pushed the memory back to Oscar. The red and astonished face of a beautiful blonde woman, twisted in fury and outrage. The memory had a sense of satisfaction and victory to take such expression from such a cold woman.

- I hope you guys got a pretty slap for it. - Oscar shook his head.

- A punch, actually. Followed by several others, I must add. This little event gave me control over our body for several weeks, since I refused to talk to Oswald for a few days because of it.

Oscar laughed and they remained in a comfortable feeling for a few moments. But soon Oscar felt that Ozpin was restless. He waited, knowing that soon the former director would say what he had in mind.

- I was analyzing our situation. He finally said carefully. - Integration should have begun, at least in its early stages, but it is not our case. We understand each other, but our thoughts and feelings remain apart most of the time. Personal.

- And you think you know why.

- Yes. Look, never before have so many people at the same time learned of my reincarnation, and few of those who knew have done so before the integration took place. Miss Rose ... - Oscar was startled by the mention of Ruby in the matter. - became careful to refer to both of us and this habit spread to all others.

- You're right. Everyone says 'Good morning Oscar, Ozpin' in the morning. I remember one morning when she was responsible for making breakfast and she handed us a cup of coffee with milk. She said 'I know you do not like Oscar coffee, so I prepared it with milk ...'

- 'So you and Ozpin can reach a middle ground'. - Ozpin completed mentally. - That's exactly the point of my theory. We are constantly being treated as different people, so it is more difficult for our emotions to blend. For example, strong emotions such as admiration and affection would be the first to 'leak' and begin to affect me, but you are managing to keep them almost completely away from me.

- What do you mean by that? - Oscar asked, feeling his own face warm and Ozpin's low-pitched laughter echoed in his head.

"I meant, by my calculations, we do not have to worry about it in the near future.

Oscar awoke from his memories and stepped out of the cold water from the tub. In the end, they never had to worry about losing their identities. Ozpin's memories became his over the years, but even the feelings being so vivid, they never felt as belonging to him. Even if weakened, the barrier that defined the boundaries between Oscar and Ozpin never fell.

The doorbell rang downstairs as Oscar dried, so he just slipped his legs into pajama bottoms and walked downstairs with the towel over his shoulders, still thinking. There was no doubt that Ruby was responsible for remaining faithful to who he was. Whether she treated him as an individual or the fact that he himself so fiercely guarded his feelings for her against Ozpin. Those teenage feelings that had just matured over the years were the one thing Oscar would never share with anyone.

Opening the door, Oscar almost fell back in surprise. Instead of the deliverer a semi frozen Ruby Rose was standing on its mat. She had snow trapped in her hood, sad eyes and a forced smile on her face that made Oscar's heart sink into his chest.

- Hey, Oscar.

#rwby #Oscar Pine #ruby rose #ozpin #fanfic #rosegarden

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redrobinho0d · 6 years

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The BatBois with a Petty S/O~

Jason Todd

Listen, he didn’t mean to stand you up, he really was excited about your date

But a mission came up really last minute and he honestly meant to text you, he typed out the message and everything he just.....forgot to hit send

You were at the restaurant for about two hours, all prettied up for once and in your nicest dress, before you realized he wasn’t coming

On your way out of the restaurant, you notice a guy: his arm is around another girl, but he’s giving you an appreciative once-over

And as an idea for revenge begins to unfurl in your head, you approach with a wicked grin. Once you’d explained what you wanted, they were both on board

And less than ten minutes later Jason’s phone was spammed by selfies of you, unmistakably with a muscular arm around you in the (rather flattering, surprisingly) light of the restaurant

“Y/N what the fuck” “Whose arm is that” “Why the hell aren’t you answering me” “Y/N I swear to god”

You ignore his texts and calls as you return back to your apartment, curling up with a book

He doesn’t get home for a few days - by the second day, he’d stopped texting you, and you’d returned the favor, so now it was a standoff

When your bedroom window slammed open you stayed right where you were, curled up on your side of the bed with your eyes trained on your boo, even though you could practically feel his glare, until he wrenches the book out of your hand and yeets it across the room

Crossing your arms, you pout up at him silently, arching a single eyebrow

And then he’s kissing you - rough and angry, shoving you down the bed, and your nails claw at his shoulders as you match his fire with your own

After you’ve both calmed down from the awesome angry sex, you have to assure him about a hundred times that no, you are not breaking up with him

And in the future, he remembers to let you know if something comes up that will interrupt your plans together

Tim Drake

This kid is on his laptop all the time, he follows a lot of people on Tumblr and Instagram and Twitter

And we all know he’s constantly sleep-deprived and probably loopy

So when he liked that girl’s selfie, it really was completely harmless

But of cooooooourse you saw, and noticed that he hadn’t yet liked your newest status

You weren’t sulking - really you weren’t!

And later when he asked, “Hey Y/N what do you wanna do for dinner?”, the “Why don’t you ask that bitch on Instagram since you like her so much” just....kind of slipped out

His expression was genuinely bewildered, he had no idea who you were referring to or why you were so mad

You instantly regretted it and clammed up, scowling

But he knew something was bothering you, so he poked and prodded all the spots he knew would make you squirm “C’mooooon, tell me!”

But you’re just annoyed and embarrassed and stay stubbornly closed-mouthed

But he’s the smartest kid like, ever, so eventually he figures it out on his own

And then he spends hours going through every single one of your social media profiles, liking every single thing you’d ever posted or commented

It was silly, but....the gesture still made you feel appreciated, so you sat by him and kissed him lightly, and he knew he was forgiven

After that he kept notifications on so he always knew the instant you posted and could dutifully like it, and was there to reassure you that jealousy over his liking someone else’s status or selfie was completlely unnecessary

Dick Grayson

It’s no secret he’s a hottie, Gotham’s finest ass and the charming smile to make all the ladies and most of the guys swoon

It’s also no secret that this boy has absolutely zero sense of when he’s accidentally hitting on people

He was just there to investigate the crime scene, good ol’ Officer Grayson doing his thing, when the reporter came up to ask him a few questions

He barely even noticed her trailing her fingers along his arm, batting her lashes as she leaned forward, but ooooooh man did you notice

And it certainly didn’t escape your notice that he smiled back, laughed with her and spent a while chatting her up

He probably didn’t intentionally flirt back at her, or even realize her interest, but it still set your blood boiling

When he finally was able to detach himself to come over and take you home, he was absolutely baffled by the cold shoulder you gave him

Still he opened the car door for you, occasionally shooting you puzzled, slightly hurt glances as he drove back to the apartment the two of you share

You breeze past him to go straight to the living room and fold yourself in the chair, rather than on the couch where he could pull you to cuddle against his side

Slowly he follows you in, sitting on the edge of the couch cushion nearest your seat

You can feel him staring at you, but you stubbornly stare down at your phone scrolling through your social media

“Y/N….?” / “Hm?” / “If I’ve done something wrong….something to upset you, please tell me”

Finally, you break and glance up - and the instant you meet his earnest gaze, all your defenses melt and you find yourself ranting about that skank throwing herself at him

You only pause when you notice his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Scowling, you go silent and glare at him again

And now he’s fully laughing at you, but leaning forward to clasp your hands tightly in his

“Oh Y/N, there’s no need for you to be jealous….I have eyes only for you” and now he looks fond as he leans in to silence your grumbles with a kiss

And in the future, he’s quicker to pick up on when you glare at women (or men - he was a catch, it happened) showing interested in him, and he sends you a teasing wink so you know that you’re the only one on his mind

Damian Wayne

Oh man. Oh boy. It has been a cold war of frosty silence for days now

Neither of you can even remember who started it or what you were even mad about, but both of you are refusing to be the first to break

There’s been a lot of stealing glances at each other when each of you is sure the other won’t notice - but if your eyes do meet, it’s a quick glare and then swiftly back to ignoring each other

Quite frankly the levels of tension between you two were getting so high they were palpable even to those around you two

Until it got to the point that they decided the best thing to do was to lock you two in a room together with all exits guarded until you two talked it out

There was about two more hours of frosty silence while sitting as far from each other as possible

Finally, Damian speaks, glaring at the wall over your head

“Y/N.....I don’t even know why you’re mad at me” / “.....Honsetly? Neither do I?” / “Then.....what are we doing, beloved?”

A long silence, and you finally crack and meet his eyes with a little sigh and a smile “Being stubborn, I guess?” / “Well....can we stop?”

You’re not sure who moves first, but then you’re both reaching for each other, falling into each others arms and kissing and murmuring breathless apologies that mostly come out as nonsense

You both know something like this might happen again - you’re both very stubborn and prideful

But for now, things are good, and that’s enough

@mqj-but-its-actually-batman

My inbox is open if you want to request a headcanon prompt, or if you’d like to be added to my tag list! :)

#Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #dick grayson #dc comics #batfamily #petty #dating #arguments #arguing/making up #prompt from a friend #bat sons #teasing #flirting #fighting #making up #sfw headcanons

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5sos-kingsandqueens · 6 years

Text

In This City~Chapter6~Luke Hemmings

IN THIS CITY

CHAPTER 6

MCKINLEY P.O.V

My office was still closed after the holidays so I took those days off to spend with Audrey. First we started with getting our nails done and then heading to lunch. It was nice to spend time with her but our main goal of today was to go and check out UCLA. Audrey still had another few years of high school but she was thinking of going there and since she was here, we might as well go.

It was scary touring a college. There's people everywhere pretty much at all hours of the day. It's scary to know that somewhere in the future you could be moving out of your parents house to further your education and even though you're an adult who is suppose to do those things, its hard to go off on your own.

She stood close to me as I answered emails while the tour guide was talking. We weren't the only ones here today, about ten other kids with their parents were also here. But just because my office was closed, didn't mean work stopped. I had to answer these emails.

Some of the kids on campus I've seen before. I had gone to a lecture at UCLA and spoke to some of the students about a writing job once they left college. Of course I worked for a publishing company so we had lots of different jobs in my building.

Audrey wasn't sure what she wanted to do yet. She was only a sophomore in high school so its normal but it is something you have to start thinking about. I tried to convince her to wait to do anything until she knew exactly what she wanted to do but she refused. I wasn't going to argue with her.

I was a smart women, I have no idea why no one ever listened to my advice.

I did however live close enough to UCLA that Audrey could live with me during the school year and drive to classes. I already told her and her parents that I would do everything I could to help support her if she did decide to come here for school.

I had already decided that no matter what, I wouldn't be moving for work again. I had already made two bigs moved in my lifetime and I wasn't even 24 yet. I was happy where I was and I was staying.

We toured the school before we headed back home. She put on a movie in the living room while I did some work in the office. At dinner time I went to the kitchen to cook and apparently Ashton knew what time it was because he came into the kitchen right as I was finished.

"Hello Mr. Irwin." I smiled handing him a bowl with the stir fry in it. "How was your day?" I asked as he sat the island and waited for Audrey to join him with her bowl.

"Good. How was yours?" He asked as he dug in.

"Good. But should I start buying more food for you and friends?" I asked laughing a little.

"If you want. None of those fools know how to cook."

"Luke knows how to cook." I commented sitting beside him.

"Well he never does." He answered. It was weird to me that Luke didn't cook for them. He cooked for me all the time, and he was good. So there was no reason for him not to do it now. We all ate in silence before Calum and Luke came through the door with their own dinners and sat with us.

"I brought over some movies." Calum commented showing them to Audrey. We let her pick the movie before Ashton helped me clean up while Luke, Audrey and Calum set up the movie and blankets.

"Has he talked about getting back together yet?" Ashton asked and I shook my head. At this point I wasn't sure if he was ever going to ask me. "We're having a New Years Eve party, you should come and kiss him at midnight." He commented making me shake my head and laugh.

"I will come but I'm not making the first move."

"I will convince him to kiss you." Ashton commented before going to the living room and getting comfortable on the couch with the others. I walked in and laid down with my feet in Calum's lap and my head near Luke. I grabbed the blanket on the back of the couch to wrap around myself.

We watched a few movies before Ashton and Calum left.

"Can I stay?" Luke asked after Audrey went to bed.

"Sure. Is everything okay?" I questioned. He had only stayed once but he didn't ask, he just sorta fell asleep there and I felt bad asking to him to leave. It was different this time.

"Haven't been able to sleep recently." He shrugged. I sat up to look at him. I wasn't sure what to say to him but I knew exactly how he was feeling. I couldn't remember the last time that I had actually slept through the night.

"Have you talked to your doctor?" I questioned. The first thing I did when I moved out here was a doctor that would be able to refill my medication.

"I don't have one." He commented making me sigh.

"Why not?"

"I don't have time for that." I rolled my eyes at him. "How did you get your cast off then?" I asked.

"I just went to the hospital and they cut it off for me." He shrugged.

"Do you want the couch?" I questioned standing up and grabbing blankets and a few pillows.

"Sure. Thanks." He half smiled at me. I smiled a little at him before running my fingers through his hair.

"Good night." I whispered heading down the hall to my room. I changed and got into bed but I couldn't sleep. Knowing that he was out there, probably also not sleeping. He was right there. He was here and I could easily invite him to sleep in my bed.

The door swung open.

*LUKE P.O.V*

It took all of my courage to swing that door open. The room was dark but I saw her sit up.

"What's wrong?" She whispered flicking on the bed side table lamp. I stood in the doorway looking at her. "Luke." She said.

"Can I sleep in here?" I asked.

"Um, sure." She answered watching as I walked around the other side of the bed and got in with her. She laid down next to me looking at me. "You left the door open." She giggled a little.

"You left the light on." I commented. She reached over to shut it off before falling back next to me.

"Couldn't sleep?" She asked.

"Yeah." I mumbled. "Haven't been able to sleep in a while." I breathed in her scent from the pillows. She ran her hand down my back. I closed my eyes as she did.

"Are you happy?" She asked. I knew I shouldn't answer because the answer was no. She said that if I ever found myself unhappy, that I should go back to her. I couldn't tell her. I loved my job, I did. But I wasn't sure if this was a life that I should be living.

All I did was work. Work is an important part of life but I shouldn't be working this much. I was exhausted and unable to sleep. She filled my every thought.

"I'm not living the life I thought I was going to be when I moved out here. I'll say that." I commented keeping my eyes closed so that I couldn't see her reaction. She stayed quiet but her hand kept moving.

I don't know when I fell asleep but I woke up the next morning to her pressed to my side and Audrey on the other side of her. I smiled down at her before grabbing my phone. For the first time in a long time, I felt rested.

Within the hour both McKinley and Audrey woke up and we all made our way to the kitchen to cook breakfast. Audrey went to shower while I cooked and McKinley sat at the island. It was like old times and I enjoyed it.

"Did Ashton invite you and Audrey to the party?" He asked.

"Yeah." I smiled. "We will be there." She commented as she scrolled through her phone. I grabbed plated and started loading the pancakes onto them.

"Ashton's little brother and sister will also be there so she'll have someone to talk to. Or kiss."

"No!" Kinley shouted right away. "There will be no kissing."

Too bad cause I was planning to kiss McKinley.

#luke hemmings #luke 5sos #luke edit #luke fanfic #luke fanfiction #5sos #5sos fam #5sos blog #5sos edit #5sos imagine #luke imagine #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #chapter 6 #in this city

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kairi-chan · 6 years

Text

Fighting For You [3/?] - SasuSaku

[First Chapter]

Summary: They were from different worlds. They were both interested, but knew a relationship between them was less than likely to happen, even if they both wanted it. Sasuke’s profession was dangerous, and Sakura was sheltered. Her parents’ did not approve of him. Slowly though, feelings started to take root and both of them were willing to fight for each other.

Genre: Romance / Humor

Rating: M

A/N: Co-written with @ss-tyytyy she will be posting it on her FFnet, while I will be posting it here on tumblr.

Sakura watched Ino position her food on the table, and readjusted the small flower vase for the ninth time before finally snapping a picture. The blond smiled, obviously content with her photo and quickly typed up a caption before posting it. She then flipped her phone over, screen first on the table, before finally looking at her again.

“So,” Ino propped her elbows on the table and leaned closer to her.

She pushed the chicken around her salad, refusing to meet her gaze. “So what, Pig?” her voice was merely a whisper. She couldn’t shake off the way Sasuke looked at her earlier, or the way his muscles rippled as he sparred with Naruto. It was sending all sorts of feelings and sensations into her system that she couldn’t explain.

The blond scowled. “What do you think of Sasuke?”

“I don’t think he likes you very much.” She teased.

Ino stabbed her chicken with her fork and ranted on. “He thinks he’s so high and mighty! He’s not even that good. I bet Naruto could kick his ass.”

Sakura laughed. It was really easy to rile Ino up. And she wasn’t going to lie, she liked teasing her best friend because her reactions were always gold. “I know. And he ruined your chances of getting Naruto’s hands on you.”

“I know!” She screeched. “What a bastard. Now I know why Naruto calls him that all the time.” She paused for a while before blurting out, “Oh my gosh! Did you see the latest summer collection? They’re adorable!”

This was exactly how things were supposed to be for Sakura. Brunch dates with Ino on Saturday mornings in fancy places while she listened to her rant on about boys and her latest fashion obsessions. After she would go around the fashion district and maybe do some shopping.

Her driver would then fetch her, and bring her home. She would have just enough time to freshen up and have dinner with her parents. Both of them were very busy people, but they always made it a point to spend time with her at least three times a week. It was like a schedule to the both of them. Ino often commented it wasn’t normal, but Sakura never paid too much attention to it. She loved her parents, and cherished all the time they could spare for her.

“Darling,” Her mother reached up, and Sakura bent down for her mother to kiss her cheek. “You look beautiful.”

Sakura smiled until her green eyes disappeared and walked over to her father.

“My precious flower is always beautiful.” He cooed. She kissed his cheek and settled into her seat. “Just like your mother,” He pointed at her, and then winked at his wife. Who blushed in return.

Sakura laughed and shook her head. Despite being married for twenty-two years, her parents still behaved like two teenagers in love. She eyed her father with a small smile on her face. Even if he was a CEO, he was still pretty humble. And not as scary as people thought him to be. She then shifted her gaze to her mother. The fine lines on her face only emphasized the knowledge she had acquired during her years in medicine. She adored her mother, and so desperately wanted to be a doctor, just like her.

“How’s your Shadowing going, darling?” Her mother asked. “Tsunade isn’t working you too hard, is she?”

She shook her head and took a sip of water. “No, mother. She’s a little scary sometimes, but she’s been very nice. Dr. Tsunade even offered more hours for me to stay. Next week, she’ll allow me to watch a surgery!” Sakura spoke excitedly, to which her mother’s smile only widened.

“She’s a good surgeon. I knew she would like you.”

Her father crossed his arms and smirked. “Good thing she recognizes talent when she sees it! My daughter will exceed her, I am sure.”

Sakura grinned and started to eat. The rest of the dinner was filled with lively conversation. Her father shared funny stories of how he liked to scare the new recruits sometimes, only to end up laughing as soon as they exited his office.

“I think,” He said in between laughs. “I think he requested to be moved to a different department!”

The two women laughed. They then moved to the living room for dessert.

“Sakura,” Her father pulled out a small box and presented it to her. “I know how much you love strawberries. I heard the first harvest in London was good, so I had some brought for you.”

She felt her cheeks color. Strawberry season wasn’t even starting yet, and here her father was, air shipping fruit halfway across the world just because he knew his daughter liked them. She opened the box and her green eyes glittered. They were red, and plump.

“Thank you!” She grinned. She eagerly dug into the fruit and ate.

Her father grinned back, and plopped down on the sofa next to her. “This is exactly what I needed. Just a night to spend with my two favorite ladies.”

Her mother looked up from her phone and asked Sakura, “Is Ino dating someone new?”

Sakura stopped mid bite. “Yeah, she is.” She replied warily. “Why?”

Her mother showed her screen to her husband. “Hey, isn’t that MMA fighter? Uhh… I forgot his name.”

Sakura froze. She did not want to have this conversation with her parents. It was embarrassing enough that her mother followed Ino on Instagram, and they were both friends on facebook. “Naruto.”

“Ah yes!” Her father perked up. “He’s a good one. I watched one of his fights in the pantry once. Young and agile.” He nodded.

A wave of relief washed over her. At least her father slightly approved of Naruto. Slightly.

“Have you met this boy, dear?” Mebuki asked.

Ah, she was dead. “N-no,” She lied. “Ino likes to talk about him a lot, though. I think I waved at him through facetime once.”

Both of her parents gave her a look, but let it pass. “No boyfriends until you graduate medical school.” Her father said with a stern stare. To which, she merely nodded meekly.

Her mother laughed and held on to her father’s arm. “Sakura’s old enough, don’t you think? She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

Sakura was thankful for her mother’s trust. But she knew her father always got into a huff about these things. “Exactly, Mebuki. Which is why I’m sure boys would just fall all over her!”

Sakura laughed half heartedly. This wasn’t exactly the case, but it had happened on more than one occasion.

After taking a shower, Sakura lay in her bed and scrolled through her phone. She finally saw the selfie she took with Naruto at the gym earlier. She sighed and placed her phone down. She stared at her ceiling and contemplated how her life had been going so far.

Maybe Ino was right. She needed to get out more and live. But how could she with her overprotective parents and high expectations? Sakura groaned and turned to her side. She picked up her phone and scrolled through her instagram feed some more. She stared at Ino’s photo with Naruto again and saw that she had tagged him. She clicked on his username and looked through his profile.

It appeared to be a personal account, and yet he had more than a hundred thousand followers. There were no photos of Ino on his feed, though. It was mostly professional photos taken during fights, and some videos of him training. There were occasional funny photos of himself, and selfies with his manager. And then, her breath hitched. It was a photo of Naruto and Sasuke.

Without thinking, she read the caption and hastily clicked on the tag with Sasuke’s name. He also had a lot of followers, but her face fell when she realized it was his professional account. The feed was clean, and it contained photos from his fight, videos of him training, and snippets of interviews. It barely contained any casual photos of him, which made her frown.

She wasn’t going to lie. She repeatedly watched the videos of him doing push ups, and pull ups. She adored the way his muscles rippled. Sakura also enjoyed listening to his voice during the interviews. He often gave one word responses, and smirked often. Which she enjoyed. She found herself laughing when someone asked him about his friendship with Naruto.

“We see you and Naruto train together often. I heard your managers were good friends. What do you think about him?”

Sasuke smirked. “He’s a loser,” came his automatic response.

“Aren’t you afraid you may have to fight him one day? I believe you two belong to the same weight division.”

He shrugged. “If it comes, it comes. It won’t affect me, or my standing. I’m still going to beat the Dobe anyway.”

Sakura laughed. His confidence was mostly taken for being cocky. She wasn’t going to lie, he was cocky, but there seemed to be so much more to Sasuke than that. Plus, since she had already seen Naruto and Sasuke’s exchanges first hand, she knew he was bluffing. They were both good friends, and it seemed like the media ate it up like hotcakes.

She read through the comments, and through more of his photos. She found a link of a compilation of his best fights. She clicked it and her phone redirected to Youtube. Sakura found herself holding her breath with each second that passed. All of the videos were less than five minutes long, and that was already including his entrance. The cut version, at least. Sakura couldn’t take the idea of someone punching that face. It was too pretty to take a hit.

Luckily, he almost never received them. Sasuke was quick, and dodged gracefully. It almost looked like he was dancing. His face was mostly nonchalant, but there was an unmistakable glint of fire in his eyes. He was in it to win, and he always did.

After watching nearly all of the fights on his youtube channel, she moved to watching other fighters. She couldn’t believe how brutal these fights could get. She felt all too relieved that Sasuke never received a fatal blow.

“Oh my god, is that blood on the mat?” She muttered to herself as she pulled her phone a little closer. The guy kicked him in the face and sent blood splattering. He fell on the mat with a thud. “Oh my god!” She screamed. Sakura was never one to be fazed by blood. It was next to normal for her. But the thought that people actually placed themselves in situations to get knocked into the next week baffled her.

“He could be a model with how hot he looks.” She muttered, as she rolled on to her other side. She closed the Youtube app and went back to his instagram. Once she got bored with that, she went to google and searched up his name.

Sasuke Uchiha

Even his name sent thrills through her body. After reading his wikipedia page, she checked the time. It was already passed midnight. She set her alarm and put her phone away to her side table. All of her stalking suddenly made her feel so tired.

“Why do I do this to myself?” She whispered as she pulled her blankets to cover her lithe body. Tomorrow would be another day. Another day where she would start her routine again. But she half hoped that she would get a little disruption, and an invitation to come and watch him train again.

Sakura started her day early with a yoga class near the hospital. She always liked attending, as it helped prep her up for her day. It was nice to sweat and practice both physical and mental discipline before her day actually started. After she took her shower, her driver fetched her and drove her to the hospital.

She walked through the halls and smiled warmly at the staff who had recognized her as Tsunade’s ward. She usually shadowed her from nine in the morning until three in the afternoon. Doing hospital work always made Sakura forget everything else that went on in her life. It was one reason why she liked being there in the first place. Other than helping people of course. She always knew that helping was one of her life’s callings.

During lunch, she decided to eat at the pantry, instead of staying at Tsunade’s office. The television was on, and the other hospital staff gathered around to watch some reruns. Sakura perked up as soon as she heard his voice.

“I train hard. It’s only natural that I win.”

Her green eyes were glued to the screen, completely forgetting the meal in front of her. She caught herself smiling. She had already watched this interview last night, but it still sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach to hear him again.

After her hospital shift, she decided to spend some time for herself. She saw Ino’s Instagram story that she was spending some time with Naruto. She didn’t want to bother her, so she walked to the park across the street and found herself a tree to sit under. She had two more hours before she had to meet Ino and their other friends for dinner. Sakura was half hoping she would bring Naruto along. He seemed like he would get along with their group of friends. She then found her thoughts drifting back Sasuke’s smoldering gaze. She shook her head to clear it and pulled a book out of her bag.

She had had enough of him invading her thoughts for the day. For now, she wanted to spend time getting lost in another world. Sakura opened the book and began reading.

“Forehead! You’re late!” Ino chided.

Sakura laughed nervously and took a seat next to Shikamaru. “Sorry, I lost track of time.” Her green eyes then roved around to everyone at the table. Tenten, Choji, Shikamaru, Ino and Naruto were there.

“Hey, you’re here!” She greeted him.

Naruto grinned, making his whiskered cheek rise, until his blue eyes disappeared. “Hi Sakura-chan. I didn’t really have a choice, ya know?”

The whole table erupted in laughter. Everyone knew Ino probably threatened him to join, but judging by seeing no damage on either of them, Naruto had come on his own free will.

Dinner was filled with laughs and stories. She rarely got to see Tenten since she was busy with her summer job, and Shikamaru and Choji were helping out with their family businesses. It was all the more reason for her to cherish these moments with everyone. But as the laughs died down, the food all gone (mostly thanks to Choji), and the bill paid (courtesy of Ino), they all shuffled out of the restaurant and said their goodbyes to each other.

“When can I go and watch you train again?” Ino asked Naruto.

“I have a fight coming up, so I’m a little busy. I’ll have to ask if you can come when my coaches are around.”

Sakura watched as Ino pouted at Naruto, who then grinned. “I’ll ask and then I’ll call you, alright?”

She brightened up. “Yeah! Hey, can Sakura come, too?”

“Sure! But just so you know, Teme won’t be there.”

The pinkette turned bright red and flailed her arms around. “It’s fine! I don’t want to intrude.”

Naruto and Ino laughed. “Hey, it’s no problem. I can ask Kaka-sensei if you can. But as soon as I get a free day with Sasuke, I’ll let you two know, alright?” He kissed Ino’s forehead before walking away.

Sakura watched him leave. The hope of seeing Sasuke again made her heart soar. She was more than excited to see him again.

A/N: Now we got a glimpse of Sakura’s life. What do you guys think? Tyy and I love hearind your thoughts!

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truthofherdreams · 6 years

Text

people can surprise you (or not)

also on ao3

Wednesday

Dmitry starts his working day with opening the Google Doc From Hell, like a good boy. His colleague hasn’t written his notes from yesterday yet, but there is already a plan for today’s bullshit, and Dmitry dreads the worst. He scrolls down, before rolling his eyes so much he’s afraid they got stuck at the back of his head for a second there.

DAY 2: IGNORE HER

Women are needy and crave the attention of their partner. What is worse for them than being ignored for an entire day, their texts left on read with no reply, their email pushed to the side? A woman will go crazy in a matter of hours when the world stops revolving around her. Perhaps a flood of texts is to be expected?

Dmitry straight-up cackles at the paragraph. Is that guy for real? A glance to the top of the page tells him they both have the document opened in a tab right now, and the need to open the chat panel on the right just to ask his colleague if he has ever spoken to a woman, even just once, in his life… Yeah, the urge is strong.

At least he wrote ‘women’ instead of ‘females’? That’s… A start, Dmitry guesses? Not as profoundly misogynistic as it could have been? He’s just grasping at straws now.

Instead, he comments ‘A little short noticed, but okay.’ No need to broadcast the fact that, up until five minutes ago, he was texting Anya. Started texting Anya the moment he woke up, actually, because he didn’t want to get out of bed and he opened Facebook and there was a funny meme. A funny meme he wanted to share with her, for some reason. Because it would make her smile. Because he wanted to text her as early as eight in the morning, but ‘good morning darling’ sounded too cheesy. So instead he sent her a funny meme, and she replied with another one, and it was half an hour of this nonsense.

Thankfully for him, he always wakes up earlier than he needs and traffic is not a problem with his motorbike. So texting Anya didn’t even make him late to work, only in a good mood. As if the memories of last night -- making out on his bed, him half-naked, her still fully clothed, until she called a Uber and went home -- were not enough to have him in a good mood.

Except now he has a new text from Anya, and he can’t open it. Well, he can. He can’t reply to it, which is even worse. The idea of spending the day chatting with Anya made going to work more tolerable, if he has to be honest with himself. First, because she’s a fucking delight, and she makes him laugh, and she’s amazing. And second, well. Because if he shows how charming he is most of the time, it will make turning into an asshole once in a while less painful to her?

Straws. Grasping.

Fuck Gleb.

Dmitry closes his eyes and sighs, before he grabs his phone. She sent one of those cat-picture-with-a-comment-in-Russian-badly-translated-into-English things from Tumblr. Which, it’s adorable. He loves it. Especially because it’s two kittens kissing, with *тьмок* written in big white letters. It’s less a meme and more obvious flirting at this point and he can’t fucking answer because his boss is a fucking asshole. He hates his life.

He flips his phone so the screen is against his desk, closes the Whatsapp web tab he usually has opened, and goes back to the Google Doc. He needs more coffee if he has to go through all of this without quitting on the spot. As if hearing his thoughts, Vlad is suddenly at his side, two fuming mugs in hands. Vlad, his saviour.

“You look like you need some liquid comfort,” the older man says.

“I love you so much right now,” Dmitry replies without even an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. He moans a little at the coffee, even more so when the after-taste of whiskey hits him and Vlad smirks.

Vlad.

His fucking saviour.

“Don’t let them get you down,” Vlad says in hushed tones. “I… If you want, I may have some contacts in London.”

Dmitry’s eyes widen, just a little. “What.”

His friend shrugs, before he leans against the desk. Mug to his lips, to hide his mouth from wandering eyes. “Lily, she knows people. We can find you something, if you want.”

Dmitry’s mouth must be hanging open at this point. He picks it from the floor, and blinks in confusion several times. “You’d do that? For me?”

Vlad chuckles, his almost-but-not-quite Santa laugh, and puts a hand on Dmitry’s shoulder. “You’re wasting your potential here. All those idiots, they don’t matter much. But you, you’re not supposed to be here.”

“What about you?” Dmitry finds himself asking, because. Well. He can’t think of much else right now, to be honest.

Vlad’s only response is a shrug, at first, and for a moment Dmitry believes he will leave it at that. But the older man takes a sip of his coffee, before he replies, “I don’t mind. It keeps me busy, and that’s all I need.”

Dmitry blinks again. It doesn’t chase away the confusion. But then he remembers his nice little discussion with Gleb yesterday, and the threats, and his mood goes sour once again. “I need to finish this first,” he says with a glare at the screen. “I need this article. I need to finish it. I need… nerves of steel.”

Vlad squeezes his shoulder once more, as if he understands perfectly what Dmitry means behind this babbling nonsense. And perhaps he does, who knows. “I will tell Lily to ask around, okay? You can work on your resignation letter in the meanwhile.”

“You’re the fucking best.”

“Don’t I know it,” Vlad answers, raising his mug, before he goes back to his own desk.

Dmitry smiles at him, then to himself. He rolls his shoulders and cracks his knuckles, before focusing back on his computer screen. He can do this. He fucking can do this, and he will. And anyway, he has a paragraph to write, one filled to the brim with praises about his girlfriend’s video game skills. He can fucking do this.

…

Anya gets stuck in one meeting after another today, which is good for her brain, but not so much for her nerves. It’s stressful, to jump from a meeting to a professional lunch to a reunion about their annual budget, to a meeting with parents. Too many things to remembers, to write down, to check. She carries her professional tablet and her huge filofax everywhere she goes, a pen tucked behind her ear, but it doesn’t stop her brain from frying halfway through the day.

Thankfully for her, she gets a full hour break in the middle of the afternoon, just enough for her to hide in her office with a cup of tea. Closed door, switched-off computer, phone on silence. Nothing but boiling tea and some chocolate cookies.

And, apparently, Alexei keeping her company.

“You mind?” he asks, even if he doesn’t wait her answer to enter her office and throw himself on the couch she keeps there for informal meetings. His messenger bag falls to the floor, and Alexei puts his arm above his eyes, ever the dramatic boy. “Library hours are exhausting.”

“Tell me about it,” she replies with a roll of her eyes.

She doesn’t necessary miss university, but after a day as full as hers, the idea of just sitting in a lecture hall and take notes, all the while chatting with her friends… well, it makes her nostalgic, just a little. She doesn’t miss exams, though. Not that Alexei has a lot of those anymore, spending his days between the library and seminars with clueless undergrads.

She sighs a little, before grabbing the cookie box and throwing it to Alexei. It lands on his chest and he huffs, then shoves two of them in his mouth. Gross. Anya makes a face, even more so when he grins at her, before she frowns.

“Did you get into a fight?” she asks.

The bruise is barely there, and she would probably have missed it were it not for the way Alexei stretched his neck to look at her above the armrest. He rolls his eyes, then smirks. “If you can call it a fight.”

It takes Anya two seconds to understand. Then to glower at him. “Are you purposefully not taking your meds to show off hickeys?”

Alexei doesn’t even look sorry, which is what makes her mad. He simply shrugs, like it’s not important, not dangerous. “I’m fine, okay? Find some chill.”

“Find some -- Alexei! What if something happened?”

“Stop being such an Olga about it!”

He sits up, to give a little more power to his glare, but it doesn’t have much of an effect of Anya. Not when she remembers him being thirteen and stupid, showing off in front of his friends by jumping into the ocean from a cliff. His leg had hit a rock at the bottom of the sea, and what would have been a nasty bruise for any teenager turned out to be two weeks at the hospital for him. She still remembers him, pale and sweating and whimpering, before the meds kicked him and knocked him out. She still remember how purple and ugly the bruise on his leg looked. She still remembers it all too well.

“Stop being so reckless with your meds!”

“I’m fine, okay!” And then, because he’s Alexei, his mood switches in about half a second and he smirks at her. “And speaking of hickeys…”

Anya’s hand goes straight to her neck, a blush burning on her cheeks. She put some concealer on this morning, if only to look nice and proper at work, but Alexei never misses anything. Not even the hickeys Dmitry branded into her skin despite her breathless, laughing protests.

Alexei sits cross-legged on the couch and shoves another cookie in his mouth, still smirking, raising his eyebrows at her. Sometimes, Anya wonders why exactly she considers him her best friend, because he’s nothing but insufferable at best. He can play the annoying little brother part too perfectly for his own good, truth be told.

“That’s none of your business,” she says in her ‘drop it now’ voice.

Not that Alexei cares much about that, mind you. “Maria says you two are a thing now? Like, proper couple, not just the bet thing.”

Any can’t help it; she glances at her phone. She refuses to be that clingy girl who’s upset about a boy not texting her back, even more so when there is a logical explanation to it. She’s not stupid, she can draw her own conclusions as to why Dmitry suddenly stopped texting her after nine in the morning. She won’t make it weird. It’s not because she decided to flirt with Russian memes. It’s just, he’s busy. She’s busy. They’re busy. It’s fine, really, she won’t make a mountain out of a molehill.

“Don’t change the subject,” she snaps at Alexei. “Take your meds or I’m telling Olga.”

Alexei crosses his arms on his chest, chin tilted up, like the little brat he is. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“Take your meds or I’m telling Nana.”

He doesn’t move, at first, but hesitation flashes through his eyes. Anya doesn’t look away from him, defiant, waiting a few more seconds before she stretches her hand as if to grab her phone. She doesn’t need to go that far, though, because Alexei reaches for his own phone first.

He goes through it for a few seconds, before putting it to his ear. Anya listens intently as he makes an appointment with the nurse for his injection in two hours’ time. Good boy. It doesn’t really make his glare go away, not that Anya expected it too. He can be mad all he wants, but at least he will be safe. That’s all she wants for him.

Anya relaxes back in her chair and takes a sip of her tea. With a smile of her own, she says, “I only have twenty minutes left before my meeting, so choose quickly. You can sulk or I can tell you about my date last night.”

She glances at her phone to play it cool -- no text from Dmitry -- while Alexei’s frown turns into a grin. Too easy.

…

Dmitry can follow the rules, but he knows how to find a damn loophole when he needs one. He’s going his brains about him, after all, and so he dutifully waits until midnight. Day three, right? No more of that silence treatment bullshit.

#dimya #dimya fanfiction #anastasia romanov #dmitry sudayev #anastasia the musical #fanfic #ff: anastasia #ff: people can surprise you (or not)

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lordofsunshadowandsailor · 7 years

Text

replies to replies and sexually charged replies

simblu replied to your post “story (and sexuality) replies”

To be clear.. for other seeing my replies.. I have no problem with what happened because of their same sex (I have male couples in my story) ..it was the lack of love and the presence of shame and disgust that saddened me.

I understood it perfectly from your comments...

It is Tobio that is disgusted with feeling attracted to men, while Alvar is certainly troubled by it, since it is considered both a crime and an illness. The applicable punishments could destroy both of their lives, or even the treatments considered at the time, such as actual castration, chemical castration, replacement of testicles and... no good prospects in whatever direction they look, is there?

Love would have been very bold at the time, me thinks, shame and disgust and doubt and guilt and fear a lot more common, and representative of the times!

I’m also aware, like you have posted about your own story, of having introduced only male characters so far -- and all of them gay, too, in my own story. Women have been mentioned, like a sister on Alvar’s side, and Ms. Rigidhirta and all the women in Tobio’s household (in fact, he is the only man in it), but visually they will appear only much later.

willky12 replied to your post “story (and sexuality) replies”

I will say that it is hard to comment on these scenes for me because I don't want people misinterpreting my feelings or thoughts. Also I feel like I am almost 'intruding' on the writing. It's very raw and deep and personal. I understand where you are writing from and I understand why. I also don't like to see flippant replies like "nice rug" or "he's gorgeous" or similar, so would prefer you to know that my like is in support and when I feel I can express myself I will.

Thank you for your feedback! And also for understanding -- and seeing the writer behind the text. But you would not be intruding. Others views on the story and characters are so precious to me, like what you said about the recurring dream! The thing about flippant replies made me laugh, because I thought the rug in the scene was actually nice and I hope the guys are gorgeous :) -- but totally understand what you mean! Thank you for your truthful support, sincere interest and all the quality comments!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: With a rather vague recollection of the...”

Like, erm WOW! I had to scroll down your page to get to where I last saw, and i got a glimpse of the story and the shots and I was like "0___0" CAN'T WAIT TO READ! So then I gets to this post and thought, oh is this really where I last read, not about the dream and the angels? So I click Previous and it takes me to the dessert and yes it was right, but then I have to scroll back through your posts because I didn't think to click NEXT so now I get teased twice!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: With a rather vague recollection of the...”

Also, I decided to click on @lordofsunshadowandsailor blog to read from there but #83 post is not on that blog that I can find? Or I am going crazy. But anyway, enough from me. On with this VISUAL EUPHORIA!

Tumblr is a very weird media for stories, in my opinion. But this is where I’m in society with great storytellers, and I appreciate the company of all so much! And each of us find a different way of organizing their stories, so that it is very varied among blogs... Post #83 for Chapter Two is exactly where the sequence after the desert dream starts, I’m glad you found it! Clicking on previous/next opens the post in its own window, and I guess it is easier to read chronologically than scrolling up or down.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: While the aristocrat boy did not refuse the...”

Intense :O I am gripped! (Now I've walked the dog, done my reply post and can RELAX with your FANTASIC STORY!!) Also I always thought Tobio was a Top. The wording here about the role he is to take on - beautifully put!

Thank you so much for your enthusiasm with LoSSS!

For many guys, being a top is a cop out, as it is presented as less gay, or not gay at all, since the top does what he does to whatever hole he is getting into, be it a woman’s or a man’s. In this same logic, bottoming is the quintessential gay role-- and therefore I could not phantom one as insecure as Tobio taking such a role, that involves a whole lot of courage and being at ease with oneself, even to take any amount of violence in the physical act, that usually comes from the top.

All the time I’m trying to indicate things more than properly showing them, choosing the words according to that principle, too.

As for the role Tobio is about to take -- he owes it to Alvar, who quite bravely immediately puts them in their respective places, sensing what is most comfortable for both of them.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Tobio could have blamed the exiguous space...”

OMG THE SLY DOG!!! Alvar! Who'd have thought? I hope poor Tobio can handle him. Also this was so erotic to read. It got me twinging!!! :O

Alvar would be in absolute shock to be called ‘sly dog’! Of course this perspective will change in a later post, when the concept of erastes and eromenos in paiderasteia is introduced, and we understand he is just conforming to an ideal form of love, as he sees it.

I should admit this was erotic to imagine and to write, but also challenging, since I did not want it to sound like an erotic fantasy or a script to porn... I wrote and rewrote this so many times, and am not sure I’d ever print this on paper!

But that the words have had an effect on you... Isn’t it reading some wonderfully magical trick?!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Afraid he would finish before they began,...”

Yeah that is a real fear for him, Penicillin eh? I hope Alvar is clean, but I doubt it tbh now I look at him lol (Judgemental much?)

Imagine a medicine student, and how much he saw this in his studies, or even was discretely approached by guys from the sports teams for help... All the time he fears being caught, losing his reputation -- and though Tobio would be able to treat himself if he caught any venereal disease, he knows how hard it would be to hide it from his colleagues. I wanted to show yet another fear keeping Tobio from having sex.

But all too soon Tobio finds himself planted inside Alvar, who has devoured him, and he finds no forces to retreat...

As for Alvar, he looks a little dusty in those clothes, doesn’t he? And though not taking daily baths, like everyone else back then, I’d say he is clean, though I cannot attest it -- whatever is most interesting to the plot should happen. Please judge as much as you feel like, but please share it with me!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Long overdue, urgent satisfaction...”

Subjugating Terror! Wow, amazing wording to capture the mood :O I LOVE THIS!!!

This is the heat of the moment. Tobio has passed an epic threshold in his life -- sex has to be that powerful a happening for him as to momentarily win over his religiosity. Thank you for your appreciation!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: The front door cracked open, letting in the...”

JESUS F CHRIST! How brazen are these two!! That was a close call!! Whew! I had to lean forward to look at this in detail. Amazing picture of naughtiness!!! :D :D :D

Like other scenes for this sequence, I fear it has turned out too dark, and one might not notice the two men kneeling behind the bench... But it had to be so, if I wanted to be coherent with them being sheltered by the darkness of the niche.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: “It’s complicated for them, we all know it....”

I am glad I am reading this now when I know there are more fabulous posts ahead, and don't have to wait for more :D :D :D

I’m rushing to finish this scene and this chapter, since I’m going on holidays soon, so whenever I have at least 7 posts ready, I’ll release them!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: The scandal. And subsequent expulsion. ...”

This is erotica writing at its finest. I can't believe the thoughts this is giving me! Also, perhaps Tobio will be ok with Alvar being so tight and small a bottom - unused and virginal but just as keen as eager to get filled for the first time as Tobio was to fill it. I love these guys. They seem some privacy. Or do they? I sort of am turned on by the public woohoo going on here :D

I think by this point it’s been hinted that Alvar is not unused nor virginal at all -- though he is not promiscuous, either. Sex back then had completely different standards, from what I’ve researched.

I wonder if this scene would ever happen in the privacy of a bedroom... I’m inclined to say Tobio fears intimacy, and he would not have assaulted Alvar (assaulted not being a synonym for rape here, since Alvar clearly wants it too, though maybe not with the same intensity as Tobio) if they were on a bed... It being public, and inadequate, and furtive, and clumsy, in the dark, very adequately suits Tobio’s fears. A romantic situation would have scared him to death. He wants it as forbidden as it can be, so that the act can fit within his stream of past and future suffering.

Still, both men are also very turned on by the public woohoo going on here, as we shall discover in the next posts.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: His own trembling legs feeling weak, and...”

Jees! Tobio nearly strangled the poor boy! I bet Alvar LOVED THAT!!! :D

Maybe he did, didn’t he? And this could send us back to the first scenes of LoSSS, where a grown up Alvar strangles Eddie the Lost Boy, and the tension between them becomes sexual in this post... Maybe he learned it from this occasion with Tobio?

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: His own trembling legs feeling weak, and...”

Also, this pic leaves just the right amount of graphic stimulation for the brain to do the rest. Lovely work Az!!!

I had to move them around, and the bench and the sculpture, unaccountable times before making this shot... There are some pretty grotesque things, and other very explicit shots that will remain unpublished, for I too prefer to leave it to the writing and imagination to complete the scene. Thank you for the compliment!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: “What was that?” Tobio heard one of the...”

Right, this is the one. THIS is the picture that has finally whipped my arse into finally going back to post #1 and finding out wtf Tobio's brain is all about. I'm going to stop being LAZY and do it!!! lol. I fucking LOVE this story! Have I already mentioned that? lol

I have already sent you the link to the first post where Tobio appears, at the very start of chapter Two.

Since the sex scene is a flashback, reading about them ten years later might not help and even confuse things about when they were so young... We’ve seen Tobio is a widow, with an orphaned baby at home, his face destroyed by the war... It’s sort of touching, I hope, to see them so young and before real tragedy touches their lives...

Thank you for your enthusiasm with LoSSSS! Have I already mentioned that? :)

declarations-of-drama replied to your photoset “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Panting heavily, his mouth wide open...”

So it's actually snow leaking in and not rain? �� HAHA JK! Wow, Alvar, you little dick pig!! Somebody gonna need to get an antibac wipe :D

Nearly getting caught simply sent Alvar overboard.

Again, being called ‘little dick pig’ would shock him so much, haha. This and other comments made me laugh so hard, thank you!

As for hygiene -- it will be mentioned later, but I’m left wondering if this is the first sex scene this hall has seen in its existence...

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: With a tenderness that evoked the hurt...”

Yeah who are you kidding. Tobio is not going anywhere! Those scholars would need a bucket of water to separate these two right now. And I would KILL THEM for trying - we need to see this out! So how did Tobio finish? I can hardly wait to click on the next post :O

They are acting like dogs, aren’t them? But I guess their shame would separate them quicker than that bucket of water, if the scholars had not taken the steps up the stairs...

You’re right. Tobio is fooling himself that he will so easily give up on finishing what he has just started, especially after having waited for so long, suffering so much... It also shows him quite coldly evaluating risks, and his self control in holding back his own satisfaction -- like Alvar couldn’t -- and still surrendering to desire in deciding to go on with it.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: But except for their own panting, the hall...”

Go for it boy! Gag him and then destroy that peach!

Haha, this made me laugh so hard! I doubt Tobio is thinking in those terms -- still, that is exactly what he is doing!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: But except for their own panting, the hall...”

:D Haha sorry for my crude comments, my natural love for gay men and their activities has been thrown into the light by your story!

I have to confess I would never have imagined this kind of subdued, sublimating writing to have such an effect... And am made to see a different dimension of this scene with your comments. Gay men and their activities certainly appreciate your love for them -- at least, these two here do!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: He tried stuffing Alvar’s mouth with the...”

To be honest I would have offered to make you Alvar's hat as a mouth accessory for this shot. If you need anything like that for this future story, gimme a shout! :D Also, this is exactly how I would have wanted this to go. Pure rampant repression releasing from Tobio's soul. I'm so happy for him :D

Thank you for the offer! Reading is enough for the readers, though those who are only having a peek shall never know of the detail you mentioned... It’s okay not to have everything in the pictures, I guess. I would often have Sims block from this kind of lack, but I’m fighting my own perfectionism to simply keep on with telling the story, no matter the mistakes or shortcomings.

Yes, let’s be happy for Tobio, though he might not be very happy with himself after this is through. For the moment, he is taking revenge on life -- though it’s poor Alvar who is actually taking the beating.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: He tried stuffing Alvar’s mouth with the...”

Also, I don't know if I would have used the word "relieve" - it sounds to me like Tobio's dick is just too big and almost painful. But maybe I have misinterpreted the wording. (That's the only bad thing I can think about this glorious story so far and thought you might appreciate me being honest)

PLEASE be honest all the time! Do quote my writing, question it, criticize it. (Like Alvar here, I need the beating/spanking to progress as a writer, not just the compliments)

I used the word ‘relieve’ not so much as an indication of Tobio’s size, but certainly of how painful this must be for the bottom. How uncomfortable for Alvar it is to be pounded against bare floorboards, his ribs and pelvic bones hurting, how hard it must be to breathe, and the dust that he is breathing not making it any more comfortable, the lack of room, the restraint of their clothes, and the force of Tobio’s trusts... I did not want to bring in all these details, but that’s why I used ‘relieve’. It feels awfully good, but it hurts badly too!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Tobio couldn’t have known – and being it...”

I hope they have a lovely lasting relationship, though I doubt that it would ever be public knowledge, perhaps an unspoken secret, but I do feel bad that they are stuck in this time. Perhaps they could find a time machine? :D

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Tobio couldn’t have known – and being it...”

Also I'm not sure if my comment is in context with the story because I haven't been back to #1 yet. So forgive me if they are some sort of dream-weaving time lords.

We’ve seen as Alvar did not want to take Apollo Jim to any hospital, but still felt confident to knock on Tobio’s door at 6AM in search of help... Their relationship has survived the war, so it holds some quality and strength in it to have lasted that long... We’ll learn more about it, in chapter Three.

It’s sad that their love is considered both an illness and a crime (and a sin, too, for Tobio) -- but at least death penalty no longer applies to it! As for the time machine -- only Alvar has access to it, in his knowledge of history from Ancient Greece, and in his romantic, idealized fantasies that wrap his sexual relations. Tobio, stuck with religion, should better stay where he is than embark in a time machine -- for he could die on a bonfire or impaled with an spear.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Tobio knew nothing about Greek Love, and...”

Ahh! So this does shed a lot of light onto Alvar's experience. Hopefully he's not a boy from the alleys after all!

Do you mean in present time or in previous incarnations? At 19, Alvar is Lord Phallihurst in the making, and we have seen him admit to have never approached prostitute boys before his search for Apollo Jim -- but maybe in another life he might have been himself a boy from the alleys, or a professional in the brothels, or a slave, who knows?

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Knowing only of his pressing satisfaction,...”

This was a perfect encounter for Tobio's first time. How lucky is he to have found such an eager bottom as Alvar.

Yes -- but he doesn’t know it! He has no terms of comparison, and he doesn’t know how Alvar’s training as an eromenos, the submissive lover, has really made it easier for him, being totally inexperienced and hesitant, to carry out his first intercourse with another man.

And as said above, there is no affection in the act, which suits Tobio perfectly, too!

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Whenever his sexual desire sought to...”

The boy has stamina! Unless what he's experiencing is one of those head-fuck moments where time seems like it slows down and a hundred things go through your head, because from the descriptions of Alvar's experience, and grateful need of Tobio's meat I would have guessed that there would be a lot more snow leaking out of somewhere by now!

This post, and the last paragraph in particular, depicts more Tobio’s climax than Alvar’s -- though you’re right to imagine Alvar leaking again from the pounding he has just taken.

In terms of the act, I guess it did not last more than a couple of minutes since Tobio has started trusting -- and it would still be incredibly long, given the exposure of the situation, the risk of being caught still existing, it being his first time, Alvar being not exactly passive... It’s just that I have extended the act along dozens of posts, breaking it with Tobio’s recurring dreams, and the scholars’ arrival, and many personal impressions from both Alvar and Tobio... It doesn’t look so, but as tense and intense as it might have been, it still was a quickie! Which, again, suits Tobio well.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Rather rashly, he was opening an...”

I'm not as good at English as you because I'm only English, but I'm guessing this is the descriptive form of Tobio's ejaculation. I hope his dreams don't haunt him as much now he has crossed this threshold, though I fear his brain is going to make his doubts and self-torment a lot worse :(

Haha, this made me laugh, too!

How many words did I need to use instead of ejaculation, right?! And it’s not even clear when it has happened, is it?

This particular post is the resolution of his recurring dream -- how the desert is invaded by the water from the dam, as the wall that separated them collapses with Tobio having sex and finally surrendering to his desires. And desert or dam no longer exist for him, but a new, boundless sea, that he’ll have to learn to navigate -- for the rest of his life!

We’ll see more of Tobio as we return to his house and office, ten or so years after this sex scene. We know he has married Emily, who died upon giving birth to their daughter... How to bring together the married man who has become a widower and a father, and this gay sex beast from his youth?

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Enlarged, their expanded bodies...”

:( Such a shame. The heat of the moment has now turned into the hate of the moment :(

I just love it how you played with the words containing the same letters!

Shame is the key word here, though in a different sense for the boys than you are making use of it.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “lordofsunshadowandsailor: Though Tobio did not immediately withdraw...”

Heartbreaking to be honest because Tobio will now torment himself badly over this, and poor Alvar who just wants to be fucked and loved by a manly stud :(

From your words of feedback on both Tobio and Alvar, I believe to have succeeded in depicting sex very differently for each of them. Same place, same moment, both engaged in the same act -- but completely different experiences happening concomitantly, opposite even in outcome, as we’ll see with the closing of the scene.

I’m thankful that you have taken so much interest in Tobio, for he is not my focus -- but I did not want to leave him out of focus either. To me, he is more a mirror in which Alvar, who is the protagonist, can be seen with an specific quality of reflection -- Tobio-nesque, I guess we can call it. At the same time, I don’t want to make Tobio simply that bland mirror.

I’d say Alvar wants to be loved more than he wants to get fucked. He thoroughly enjoys the second, but aiming at the first. His perception is that openly offering himself, obediently surrendering, and actively submitting and engaging to pleasure his partner (though, as a side benefit, finding himself uncontrollable pleasure) only might lead him to love, some love, any love at all.

Thank you @declarations-of-drama so very much for the comments --and @simblu and @willky12 too in this post -- your comments and special perceptions of the story put you all in a position of co-writers, really!

#simblu #willky12 #declarations-of-drama

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wendyimmiller · 4 years

Text

The SEO Garden: A Letter to the Midwest

June 26, 2020

Lovettsville, VA

Dear Scott,

Well, as your letter writing skills are obviously taking second place to your Facebook overshares, I thought I would pick up the baton (as most women must do in this life), and nudge you with its slightly nubby end.

The bananas are beginning to cook.

I enjoyed your latest Rant about things in the gardening world that you love and loathe, but erased my pithy comment about 600 characters in, feeling it was better to start a new, more focused, discussion on the things that also make me crazy as a gardener and garden writer in a new(ish) digital age.

As almost all of them involve a laptop which is not particularly photogenic, I’ll entertain you with pictures of the garden right now instead.

Bird-sown Petasites hybridus (with violet leaf for scale).

There are many things to love about the digital age of course – my word processor for one, my digital SLR for another. Hell, my iPhone camera at this point. But I know, in a little tiny corner of my mind which I often close for comment, that each is working with the passage of time to make me lazier and less clever. Depth of field nuance? Grammatical flourish? Tricky spellings which tax the brain? All casualties to algorithms and sweet sweet convenience if I allow it. And I so often do.

And these are skills we should be loathe to lose. A writer friend wrote the following on syntax, which I have pinned up in my office on a 3×5 card to remind me of the fun of it all – the reason if you will to turn off Microsoft Editor, and Yoast, and the specter of your fourth grade teacher insisting that you will be pitched into the fires of hell if you start a sentence with a conjunction:

It’s no sin to tax the grammar. If you’ve the skill, then you canna.

The Scots would point out, quite rightfully, that the last word negates the gist of the thing, but I like to feel it is penned in the style of Ogden Nash. Perhaps you might prefer CAKE’s more modern approach with the lyrics of John McCrea in Stabbing Shadows:

Adjectives on a typewriter, he moves his words like a prizefighter. The frenzied pace of the mind inside the cell.

That last line’s gotta resonate with the man who just penned 722 words (I counted) on high octane gasoline.

So if we allow these things to ‘help us,’ will they eventually hurt us instead? Which brings me to the issue of the modern ropes, however silken, that tie us in knots and limit the creative [horticultural] mind. I wonder if you’ll agree.

Echinacea ‘Tres Amigos’ with belamcanda fans – now Iris domestica.

Autocorrect

Do you know how long it takes to thumb-type Aechmea fasciata into a phone with muddy hands? Do you know how much I’m forced to drink when I then read ‘Arch fascists’ on a text I’ve just sent to a botanist friend who is probably wondering how much news I’ve been taking in lately – and from which websites?

Wait a minute, of course you do, you’ve got at least a decade on me. At least I can see my screen at this point.

All said, it does tend to limit the amount of times one wants to thumb-type Achmea fasciata into a phone with muddy hands. Easier to type ‘urn plant’ and pray there’s only one.

Well, not an achmea, but an ananas. Pineapples in Virginia. So. Much. Fun.

Google dictation

Which, like its evil brother, Autocorrect, does not understand botanical nomenclature and turns a simple task into ten wasted minutes of your life you will never get back. Here’s a great example from today: Tripsicum dactyloides to the folks at Apple is “trips to come back to the ladies.”

And, if I type it in, and forget to hit that top left “Yes, that’s damn well what I typed” word suggestion, I get something equally incomprehensible courtesy of Autocorrect. Unless of course, I’ve typed it before. Or not. Depends. Meanwhile, the tripsicum has spread four inches.

I imagine Dr. Fauci and his lot are struggling with the same issues: “No! I said remdesivir – the polymerase inhibitor, you idiot machine, not ‘REM death severe.’ Holy hell – like the President needs to think sleep will kill people at this point. Somebody get me a new phone.”

Writing for SEO

I do believe I dislike this most of all. Not simply because of the articles that have been butchered by editors with their hungry marketing eyes fixated (quite understandably) on key words and their synonyms awkwardly repeated 16 times in 900 words. Nor because of one-sentence paragraphs that can no longer hold their heads up proudly and call themselves paragraphs. But because of the nuance that is lost when all this happens – particularly when it comes to clever, teasing titles.

Would you rather read “The Necessity of Underwear” to gently introduce you to the painful subject of staking, or scroll through yet another “The One Crazy Trick Great Gardens Have in Common – Sure to Shock You!”

Mixed shrubs made ever so much better by a touch of Cosmopolitan. (Miscanthus sinensis)

Had this SEO nonsense been the norm eighty years ago, it would have completely obliterated most great garden literature, including the scratchings of His Royal Highness, Monty Don. Loathe as I am to mention great British garden writers in light of your sensitivity on the subject, I feel an example is necessary.

One of Christopher Lloyd’s Country Life articles “Shun the Invisible Worm” (found in In My Garden) is a piece about succession bloom in late summer borders; and somewhere, deep in the meat of it, he comes to the threat of introducing the phlox eelworm into one’s garden. Then, just as quickly, back to love of plants, and of hybrid rhododendrons. The worm was just a blip; but in finding it and moving through the article, the reader-gardener is transported deep within Lloyd’s kingdom.

I simply wouldn’t have fallen in love with that garden (or that wit) without that journey. One feels the garden. One begins to know the garden. His articles are a mix of straight-to-point and linger-a-little. Both are necessary.

The great American garden writer Henry Mitchell wrote similarly, as did many others in the days before newspapers threw out their garden columnists onto hard pavement — forcing them to sell their souls in a world run by Yoast and its little red frowny faces.

New 2020 title for Lloyd’s piece: The Terrifying Pest That Will Destroy Your Garden!

Notes from 2020 editor: Remove rhodos and summer border options. Not relevant. Need some keyphrase headers. Can you make the worm more terrifying?

Notes from Lloyd: [annoyed muttering]

Primo Black Pearl heuchera (a long-lived stunner!) with Sun Power hosta.

Those frowny faces say impertinent things like “Keyphrase has been found less than four times.” “42% of your sentences contain more than 20 words.” “82% of your readers have started scanning their Instagram feed.”

I wonder if those who don’t blog or write content for websites (all fifteen of them) understand how much has been lost in a one-inch-deep marketplace. 20 words folks. That’s what Yoast and Google think of our ability to read at this point.

For the benefit of future employers/editors reading this letter, I feel compelled to add that I am fully versed in SEO and will absolutely sell my soul in a world run by Yoast and its little red frowny faces. The pavement is so very hard. Scott, I’m sure you’ll join me in my abject groveling.

Writers gotta hustle in a COVID world.

Exclamation points

Or rather, the new need for us to use exclamation points in texts, emails, or prose — or risk pissing someone off with our disembodied, obviously snotty, tone!

You probably wouldn’t understand because you’re so “good-natured” and “sometimes humorous,” but some of us don’t have to work that hard to make others believe we’re using a snotty tone, so we’re forced to use more exclamation points!

To friends! To colleagues! To people we’ve never met before! I die a little bit each time I do it! To those who flatly refuse – I deeply respect your stance! But maybe you’re grumpy! I can’t tell! And see paragraph above!

I always think I love the red ones the best, then I see the pure lavender ones.

Can we all just agree to stop using them?!? Can we all just agree that an slightly uplifted tone is implied in all correspondence, no matter how short?!? Please!

Insane misinformation, perfectly SEO’d

Insane. And because I have no idea if it is libelous to quote these people, I won’t. Instead I’ll make up something that I may, or may not have recently read, by someone who may, or may not have 45 thousand followers, of whom 44 thousand may, or may not, be Russian bots.

“Plant green healthy taro! The healthy leaves are awesome in the garden! And good for you! You can eat the green healthy leaves in tons of ways! People say the leaves are medicinal – I’m sure they totally are! They just LOOK healthy! And green! Why not try it? Plant medicine is good medicine right? Right!”

Not for salad fixins’

There’s those exclamation points again.

Yeah buddy. You’re right. Taro leaves do happen to be edible. Boiled. Boiled hard. Just don’t make one of those “tons of ways” chomping on the raw leaves with a steaming cup of ashwagandha before you start your sun salutations, or your throat will swell shut. And then you’ll need something other than plant medicine to realign your chakras.

While I give everyone and anyone a free pass to make mistakes in life and in print as we all do, I cannot get over some of the utter horseshit I see out there. I suppose I should be thankful that it’s mostly Russian bots scanning it.

What was my SEO header keyphrase again?

Speaking of plant medicine, it appears to be time to close up this fabulously clever word processor with all of its little demons and frowny faces, and mix myself a G&T – though I know we disagree on the sticky issue of what to pair with one’s tonic. Your penchant for Vodka is unsettling, but I will assume a Vodka tonic pairs well with a Vodka jello square after a long day keeping the elephants off the phlox. Personally I don’t see why you don’t use Everclear and save a bit of cash.

Can we at least agree on Pimms? Don’t tell me your mixer is soda water.

Yours in the sublime brilliance of tonic at least,

Marianne

P.S. Just rebuilt the carburetor on my edger with the help of a friend. I too loathe this gasoline dance we do, but at Stihl’s exorbitant European-esque fuel prices, I’ll continue to use my additives.

P.P.S. The irony of having to mess with the SEO of this letter to achieve Green-Face Nirvana has sent me to my second G&T.

The SEO Garden: A Letter to the Midwest originally appeared on GardenRant on June 27, 2020.

The post The SEO Garden: A Letter to the Midwest appeared first on GardenRant.

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turfandlawncare · 4 years

Text

The SEO Garden: A Letter to the Midwest

June 26, 2020

Lovettsville, VA

Dear Scott,

The bananas are beginning to cook.

As almost all of them involve a laptop which is not particularly photogenic, I’ll entertain you with pictures of the garden right now instead.

Bird-sown Petasites hybridus (with violet leaf for scale).

It’s no sin to tax the grammar. If you’ve the skill, then you canna.

Adjectives on a typewriter, he moves his words like a prizefighter. The frenzied pace of the mind inside the cell.

That last line’s gotta resonate with the man who just penned 722 words (I counted) on high octane gasoline.

Echinacea ‘Tres Amigos’ with belamcanda fans – now Iris domestica.

Autocorrect

Wait a minute, of course you do, you’ve got at least a decade on me. At least I can see my screen at this point.

All said, it does tend to limit the amount of times one wants to thumb-type Achmea fasciata into a phone with muddy hands. Easier to type ‘urn plant’ and pray there’s only one.

Well, not an achmea, but an ananas. Pineapples in Virginia. So. Much. Fun.

Google dictation

Writing for SEO

Mixed shrubs made ever so much better by a touch of Cosmopolitan. (Miscanthus sinensis)

New 2020 title for Lloyd’s piece: The Terrifying Pest That Will Destroy Your Garden!

Notes from 2020 editor: Remove rhodos and summer border options. Not relevant. Need some keyphrase headers. Can you make the worm more terrifying?

Notes from Lloyd: [annoyed muttering]

Primo Black Pearl heuchera (a long-lived stunner!) with Sun Power hosta.

Writers gotta hustle in a COVID world.

Exclamation points

Or rather, the new need for us to use exclamation points in texts, emails, or prose — or risk pissing someone off with our disembodied, obviously snotty, tone!

I always think I love the red ones the best, then I see the pure lavender ones.

Can we all just agree to stop using them?!? Can we all just agree that an slightly uplifted tone is implied in all correspondence, no matter how short?!? Please!

Insane misinformation, perfectly SEO’d

Not for salad fixins’

There’s those exclamation points again.

What was my SEO header keyphrase again?

Can we at least agree on Pimms? Don’t tell me your mixer is soda water.

Yours in the sublime brilliance of tonic at least,

Marianne

P.P.S. The irony of having to mess with the SEO of this letter to achieve Green-Face Nirvana has sent me to my second G&T.

The SEO Garden: A Letter to the Midwest originally appeared on GardenRant on June 27, 2020.

The post The SEO Garden: A Letter to the Midwest appeared first on GardenRant.

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