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babymetaldoll · 3 years

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DIWK - Chapter one: "Yes, I'm a genius"

Word count: 10,5 K

Warnings: Cursing, but it's mostly a fluffy nerdy start to our story. Mentions of the L.D.S.K episode (Season 1, E06) and A real Rain (Season 1, E17).

Summary: Spencer meets the BAU new member, a young S.S.A. who happens to be just as nerdy as he is. (Y/N) is excited to join her dream job finally, but she is decided to create an imaginary barrier between her personal life and her job 'cos she doesn't want to make the same mistakes her father had done.

A/N: It's happening!!! I'm so excited!! I'm sorry it's gonna be long, so I hope you enjoy the ride 💕. Let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

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Spencer's point of view

I remember everything that happened the day (Y/N) first arrived at the BAU. It was Monday, November 7th, 2005. Morgan had teased me for a whole week already, as soon as Hotch told us a new member of the team had been selected.

I first saw her when she had her last interview with Aaron and Gideon. My eyes were glued to her from the moment she stepped into the bullpen, and of course, Derek saw me.

- "What caught your eye, kid?"- he asked, walking to my desk. He sat on it and cut me one of his smirks, telling me he knew something was going on. I cleared my throat, trying to turn to my pile of paperwork, going through the papers, and narrowing my eyes, pretending to read.

- "What?"- I know I couldn't fool him, but at least I tried.

- "Do you know her?"

- "Who?"- Morgan looked at me in silence. He knew I knew what he was talking about- "The... no, Hotch is talking with someone..."

I was completely flustered.

- "That I can see, do you know her?"

- "No..."- I whispered and looked over again, this time staring at the scene inside the office, trying to figure out what they were talking about.

I could see (Y/N) smiling at Hotch, and he... smiled back, which still surprises me. Our Unit Chief never smiles in the office, and somehow, (Y/N) always manages to make him grin and express tenderness. I guess that's one of the things about her I love, the way she always manages- somehow, I still don't know how- to make everybody around her happy. Especially me. I had never been as happy as I've been since I met her.

- "Hey, Hotch!"- Morgan waited until she was into the elevator to call Aaron and start asking questions- Who is she?

- "That's Supervisory Special Agent (Y/F/N) (Y/S/N) (Y/L/N), and she is going to be part of the team, starting next week."

My heart stopped. (Y/N) was gonna work with me. I was never going to have another intelligible thought or idea if she was going to be around. Of that, I was sure.

Derek turned to me with a grimace of taunt as I tried my best to look away and hide my red blushed cheeks. Damn it. I hate it when he makes me feel like a kid. He did that then, and he still manages to do it now, even when I'm already thirty years old.

- "Did you hear that, pretty boy?"- I was so glad it was just him and Hotch. I didn't want anyone else to listen to that conversation- "You are going to get many chances to talk with that pretty girl."

- "We are going to have to go through the fraternization policy then."- Hotch joked. Yes, he joked and smiled as he walked away.

I could barely talk or even look at her during her whole first day. I was so embarrassed that week 'cos I had just failed my firearm qualification, and I knew everybody was judging me. At least that's how I felt. It didn't work that Morgan welcomed me that morning with a freaking whistle. I felt like the mockery of a Supervisory Special Agent of the FBI, and of all days, (Y/N) had to arrive that morning.

We had a long briefing that day, JJ catching (Y/N) up with a few cases we were reviewing, and Hotch gave her the proper induction to the team. Penelope loved her. It was friendship at first sight.

- "I'm so happy you are here to stay! There aren't enough girls here at the BAU!"- she nearly squeaked as soon as we left the meeting room- "I want to know everything about you! We are going to be best friends. I can feel it!"- (Y/N) smiled at Garcia and nodded.

- "If you are a cat lover and a sucker for nerdy things, then I guess we are already family."

Her answer made Penelope shriek in excitement as I walked back to my desk quickly. I knew Derek wasn't going to waste the chance to embarrass me in front of her, and I needed to avoid it no matter what.

- "Considering it's your first day, and so far we haven't got a case, I say we should all have lunch together. There's a small place nearby"- Morgan smiled sweetly at (Y/N), and she nodded.

- "I'd love to."

- "Spencer here was just telling me how he wanted to know how you got to the BAU so young; he is excited not to be the team's baby anymore"- I turned to Morgan slowly. I swear he could feel the daggers from my eyes.

- "How old are you?"- she asked, and her smile left me speechless. I tried to answer, but I couldn't make any sound but an awkward stutter.

- "He's twenty-four"- Elle had to answer for me, 'cos I had literally lost all my verbal abilities- "His birthday was a few weeks ago."

- "Congratulations! I'm twenty-four too! I'm so happy I'm not the youngest! My brother teased me about it for the last couple of days and got me all freaked out."

She looked so happy to be there. When you spend day after day surrounded by the worst of humankind, you seem to enjoy and appreciate the little gentle things in life. Her excitement was one of those. It was refreshing.

- "That's..."- it was so hard to pronounce any word at that moment. I was flustered and mortified 'cos I was making a fool out of myself.

- "That's great."

That was all I managed to say. Then, I looked down at the papers on my desk, doing my best to avoid any conversation. JJ and Elle talked to her for a few more minutes before returning to their duties, and Derek tapped my back as he walked to his desk.

- "Way to go, Romeo."

- "Shut up."

We never made it for lunch that day, 'cos we were called for a case in Illinois, and I was embarrassed in front of (Y/N) for the very first time. The first of many.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I could never forget the day I met Spencer. We were just kids. We were both twenty-four, and that was the first thing that caught everybody's attention on my first day at the BAU. We were the youngest, though he was a genius. I was an average kid who graduated high school at sixteen, got good grades at college, and got into the academy at twenty. Somehow I managed to kick ass until I got the position of my dreams in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I felt too young and inexperienced to be there, but seeing Reid's face made me feel a little better.

Hotch introduced me to everybody: Morgan, JJ, Elle, Penelope, Gideon -the legend- and Doctor Spencer Reid. He didn't shake my hand, explaining he has a "germs thing." I waved and said I understood him because I've always had a "hug thing," so we are both on the same page.

- "I don't like people touching me if we are not close friends or family."- I explained, and he smiled right away. That smile. It lit up my days for years to come.

- "Me neither, so don't worry, I'm not gonna try to touch you"- I bit my lips as I nodded, and his cheeks turned blood red with embarrassment immediately

- "Sorry, I mean, I'm not going to do anything that might bother you, like hugging you or..."

- "Don't worry, Dr. Reid, I understood what you were trying to say"- he kept nodding and excusing himself, and I tried not to laugh. He seemed to be so nervous it was endearing.

- "You... you can call me Spencer, or Reid"- he added- "You don't need to call me doctor."

- "You can call me (Y/N)"- and he nodded again, looking like a ten years old kid.

I remember clearly that second, right away, I thought he could be my new best friend. There was something about him that made me want to get closer to him.

- "Great! Now we've got two weird kids."- Morgan quickly said, chuckling, and I frowned at his words. I wanted to give him the snarkiest answer, but I remembered it was my first day, and I was still trying to give a good impression to my new coworkers, so I just stared.

- "You know, treating them like kids won't make you look wiser."- Elle whispered, though I heard her perfectly, as Hotch called to the briefing room.

- "I'm just joking with them! Don't you get a joke?"

I thought it was rude to joke around with someone you had just met, but soon after that, I realized Derek Morgan meant no harm. He was like that. And soon, he became the older brother I never thought I was going to need at work. After all, it was my first official job, and it was a very stressful one.

My first case was nerve-wracking. Gideon snapped in front of me, and I felt I wasn't helping at all catching the sniper. We are not supposed to use that word, but fuck it. Besides, Spencer and Hotch were kept hostage by the unsub. And Aaron had to beat the shit out of Reid to save all the hostages. Reid was so embarrassed, and I was so scared.

Scared of looking weak in front of my team. Afraid of not deserve being at the BAU.

I remember Elle brought me a coffee on the jet on our way back and said the words that resonated in my head when she left.

- "No one expects you to be perfect at what you do. We just need someone who gives the best every day."

I looked into her eyes and nodded. That was one of the few intimate conversations we had. Elle wasn't the one to open her heart and share her feelings. But she was always someone who could tell you the truth and support you when you needed it.

- "Hey! Reid!"- I waved at him from my car as I stopped next to him outside the BAU. It was already two in the morning, and he was outside the main building waiting for a cab.

- "Hey (Y/N)."- he whispered as I rolled up the window and looked at him.

- "Do you need a ride?"

- "No... no, thank you"- he hesitated and waved- "I already called a cab."

- "Are you sure? it's gonna start raining any minute now."

And just as I predicted, a few seconds later, Spencer's glasses were covered with tiny drops of water. He smiled and took a step closer to the car, opened the door, and got in.

- "Th... thank you"- he whispered as I smiled

- "It's ok, I couldn't let you there, on your own, waiting for a cab, not after coming back from a case."

- "I'm ok..."- maybe he thought I was implying the beating he got from Aaron earlier that day, so I did my best to tell him otherwise.

- "I bet you are, but it's fucking freezing, and we are all tired. There's no way you are waiting for a cab if I can drive you over... what about your car, by the way?"

- "I'm not a fan of driving; I take the subway to work every day."

- "Really? Why not?"- I was surprised by his answer, but I was way more surprised we were talking, finally.

- "I don't know, I don't feel comfortable driving... the guys say I'm weird."

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He looked so nervous it made me feel bad. Maybe I had done something that had bothered him and never noticed it.

- "That's not weird"- my voice was soft, trying to calm him down. Spencer looked like a scared kitten sitting on my car's passenger seat.

- "If you don't like driving, that's ok... I don't like talking on the phone with people. It makes me anxious for no reason."- I confessed, keeping my eyes on the road. But I know he turned to me and nodded.

- "That's completely normal. It's called "telephone phobia" or "phone phobia," which refers to the irrational fear or discomfort with speaking over the phone. Psychologists believe that this condition is related to social anxiety, which causes a person to avoid situations where they will need to act. Making a call is essentially a performance, and some people dread making a mistake, freezing up, being ridiculed, or not being able to perform in front of an audience."

- "Really?"- he just nodded and kept his eyes on the road- "I didn't know it had a name! My insurance should cover it."

And he finally laughed, which made me feel he was maybe a little more relaxed around me.

- "This is me."- he announced, and I parked outside his building. It was a nice place, and conveniently, it was very close to my house.

- "Great! I live just a few blocks away. I can give you a ride to work whenever you want"- I might have sounded a little more excited than I should have, but I wanted to be friends with him. He was the closest in age with me at work, and he looked so shy and friendly. He was a magnet. Spencer Reid was calling for my friendship. I could feel it.

- "Th.. thanks"- he stuttered and nodded as he opened the door and step out of the car- "Thank you, again."

- "You are very welcome!"- I answered with a big smile. He stared at me for another second and waved before turning around, basically running into the building.

I wish I could go back in time to those days. Everything was more uncomplicated, we were getting to know each other, and everything was brand new: Reid's rambling, my bad jokes. I miss that. I miss us.

It wasn't easy to get close to Spencer. It wasn't easy to get close to the team, probably 'cos I was overthinking every single thing I did. In my first couple of weeks, I was as friendly as I have ever been and made my best to be the (Y/N) I had to be as an FBI Agent. I was making a tremendous effort to fit it. I was nervous and walking on eggshells the whole time. Every time Hotch talked to me, I was sure he would tell me I was fired. When Gideon looked at me, I was sure he thought I was the dumbest agent he had ever met. And every time I spoke at the morning briefings, I just could feel Spencer thinking I was stupid.

- "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! I was looking for you!"- Penelope ran into me outside the lady's room and jumped on my face, making me scream- "Sorry!"

- "It's ok, you just almost killed me of a heart attack, but that's ok... I'll survive."- I joked as I kept feeling my heart jumping in my chest.

- "Sorry, I'm just excited 'cos everybody is in for a little gathering tonight at my house. I need to give you a proper welcome! You've already been here for nearly a month, and we still don't get to know much of you."

Hanging out with my coworkers outside the office was strange. Not that I didn't want to get to meet them, it's just that... they were FBI agents. Sure, so was I, but it was my first official Supervisory Special Agent job, and I was only twenty-four. There were so many of my teenage days I still wasn't ready to let go. And so much of it, I didn't want them to know.

- "Sure!"- I replied and smiled at her face lighting up. You could tell Penelope was excited to host a party at her house.

- "Great! Tonight! my place! I'll text you the address! you have to be there!"

- "I will, I swear!"

Spencer's point of view

Oh, man! The first time I actually talked to (Y/N) was on a get-together Penelope organized at her apartment a few weeks after (Y/N) joined the team. Garcia made an effort to make her feel welcome, she even invited Elle, and we all knew those two weren't incredibly close.

Derek drove Elle and me to Penelope's, and I was mortified every minute I spent in that car. He wouldn't stop teasing me, and Elle asked over and over if I had a crush on (Y/N).

- "No! I don't have a crush on her! can you knock it off?!"- I finally snapped as I got off the car outside Garcia's building.

- "Just because she is my age doesn't mean I have or should have a crush on her! she is our new colleague! so please! Stop!"

I slammed the door and walked inside. Did I make an unnecessary scene? Yes, but I couldn't handle anything better at that moment. They were driving me crazy.

- "Welcome! Welcome!"- Penelope opened the door and invited us in. (Y/N), and JJ were already there, holding a beer and laughing. I stared at the two of them and knew I wasn't going to say a word the whole evening.

Back then, I still had a small crush on JJ. We had a terrible date after Gideon gave me tickets for a football game with her favorite team. That was his way to encourage me to ask her out, which I did... but apparently, I sucked at it, 'cos she never got it was a date and invited Penelope to come along. Worst date of my life. But still, I got flustered around her, and my mind kept coming back to her from time to time.

- "So, pretty girl, why did you want to be part of the FBI?"- Morgan asked her after a while of small talk. She was sitting on Garcia's coach, next to our host and JJ. I turned to look at her from my chair, and I swear I felt Elle's eyes on me for a few seconds.

- "Do you usually call girls names?"- (Y/N) answered the questions with another question and frowned at Morgan. He just wide opened his eyes and smiled, surprised.

- "He calls everybody names."- JJ replied, chuckling

- "Hey! he calls me sweet names! Just me!"- Penelope got all jealous and possessive right away.

- "Did you know according to some studies, the reason people in relationships use pet names for their partners is that they're harking back to their own childhood experience and their first love, which usually relates to their mother"- facts came out of my mouth faster than I noticed. I didn't have a chance to stop myself.

Derek frowned right away and (Y/N) bit her lips, trying not to laugh. Elle lost that fight and let out a burst of loud laughter along with JJ.

- "Are you trying to tell me I've got mommy issues, Reid?"

- "No, no, of course not!"- my voice was agitated as I shook my head and hands frenetically. If there's one thing I never want to do is get Morgan mad. He is scary when he is crossed, and back then, we weren't as close as we are now. Let's say I was a little afraid I might say the wrong thing. I always said the wrong thing... I don't know when to stop.

- "I call people pet-names too, once I get to know them, so don't worry"- (Y/N) smiled at turned to Derek with a smile- "And to answer your question, why did I join the FBI? I guess I tried to follow dad's steps. He is chief of police here at Quantico... and my older brother is a detective at NYPD, so... I guess I never really thought about it. I knew where I wanted to be."

- "I bet they are proud"- JJ smiled at her, and I held my breath for a second. I don't know why I did it; I just remember feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. Not because of JJ, but because I wanted to learn more about (Y/N). I wanted to know everything, but I had no idea how to ask her anything.

- "Well, my brother is very jealous since I joined the BAU"- she chuckled with a playful smile- "Now I'm dad's favorite."

She told us about her academy experience, and we all told her a little bit about ourselves. Morgan was nice enough to tell her everything about my degrees and IQ because, well, my IQ dropped to twenty when it was my turn to talk to her.

I found out she has a MA in Linguistics and was considering doing the DA, which she did. That's when I managed to speak, and we talked about our college experiences for a while.

- "Oh, no! I wasn't popular at all. When your dad is a cop, kids usually don't wanna talk to you or invite you to parties."- she explained as we stood at one side of the room. Talking to her on our own was a little bit easier than doing it with everybody else watching. I don't know why. So I took my opportunity when Derek was out getting more beer with Elle, and JJ and Garcia were in the kitchen.

- "Being fourteen and riding my bike to college didn't make me very popular either."- I confessed, and she chuckled

- "Sorry."

- "Don't be"- I smiled and looked down at my shoes- "I guess at a certain point in our lives, we have to start laughing about some of the bad things that happened to us"- her cellphone rang that second, and she looked at the screen with a small smile.

- "Sorry, I have to answer this, it's my boyfriend."

Boyfriend. I should have seen it coming.

I walked to the kitchen, defeated, and sighed. I left my empty can of Coke and looked at my friends.

- "I think I'm gonna go home."

- "What? No! It's too early, Spence!!"- JJ argued right away- "You never want to hang out with us outside work!"

- "Yeah!! Don't you want to have fun with us?"- Garcia begged and pouted. I wasn't sure I wanted to be there. I was very uncomfortable 'cos social gatherings weren't my thing (they are still not my thing anyway) until I heard her voice.

- "So, what are you guys doing?"- (Y/N) walked over and stood next to me

- "Who were you talking to?"- Penelope asked right away with a wink.

- "My boyfriend"- she was joyful, I could feel the happiness in her voice- "He just wanted to know if I was ok."

- "Boyfriend?"- JJ smiled, and I could feel her eyes glance over me.

- "I need to know everything!"- and Penelope hyperventilated right away- "How long have you been dating? Are you getting married soon? Is he the love of your life?"

- "Who's getting married?"- Morgan walked in and wide opened his eyes as he questioned the room.

- "(Y/N) is getting married!!"- Penelope nearly shrieked as (Y/N) shook her head laughing.

- "I'm not getting married! Paul and I started dating just a month ago; it's nothing serious."

I took a sip of the beer Elle gave me and sighed, staring at the bottle. I made my best not to look at Derek for the rest of the night. I didn't want him to give me any sorry glance or anything that might make anyone believe something that wasn't real.

It was a fun night, after all. After my beer, we talked; I felt a little looser and managed to ask (Y/N) about herself and told her I had overheard her telling Garcia she was a sucker for all nerd things.

- "Yeah, I'm a huge nerd"- her cheeks blushed with her confession.

- "I bet you can't beat baby genius here"- Morgan chuckled and tapped in my back, making everybody laugh... at me.

- "I've got the feeling I can top him... you have no idea the kind of geek I am"- she looked straight at me- "How many Star Wars conventions have you been to this year?"

- "Just one, you?"- I raised an eyebrow and watched her chuckle.

- "Five... last two I was in make-up and custom"- I wide opened my eyes as she bit her lips nervously.

- "And Doctor Who conventions?"- I asked her, way more intrigued than I had been about her before.

- "Only two this year, the academy and school got in the way of most of my fun..."

- "Do you have a favorite doctor?"- I had to ask

- "From the new series, ten, the classic Doctor who I have to say four."

- "Tom Baker is by far my favorite doctor of the whole series."

- "But you can't overlook the fantastic job David Tennant has done! He is the one who managed to charm a whole new generation with the show!"

- "Yeah, he is excellent! but he ain't no Baker"- I loved that conversation

- "Baker's popularity is 80% because he had Sara Jane, who is by far one of the best companions the doctor has ever had. She made him human and relatable"- she had a point, but I needed to argue with her. I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn't because Morgan's voice was louder than my thoughts.

- "Ok, geeks, you can ramble about your tv shows and nerd things some other time, now let's make a toast. To our newest member, we hope you feel welcome working with us, 'cos you are gonna see us way more than you see your boyfriend"- she chuckled at those words and nodded.

- "Thank you, guys. You have been so nice to me these couple of weeks. I've got the feeling we are gonna get along."

- "Do you need a ride?"- (Y/N) turned to me as I grabbed my satchel, and she put on her coat.

- "Thanks, but Morgan is gonna take me home."- I whispered, scared to be alone with her again.

- "Actually, kid, I was planning to hit the club right now, it's still early, and we don't get many free nights, so..."- he looked at us and shrugged.

- "You don't mind?"- I asked her, and she gave me the warmest smile.

- "I just offered to do it, of course, I don't mind at all."

- "Thank you."

I didn't know if I wanted to kill Morgan or thank him. Either way, (Y/N) waved goodbye to everybody and walked out of Garcia's with me, after thanking everybody for the hundredth time for everything.

- "Are you tired?"- she asked me as we both sat in her car. She started it, and the music that came from the radio was so loud, I nearly covered my ears- "Sorry! Sorry! I was rocking my favorite album on my way over."

She quickly turned off the radio and gave me a guilty smile

- "It happens when you drive alone a lot."

- "Did you know listening to loud music helps you liberate stress?"- I started rambling- "There is a direct connection between your inner ear and the pleasure centers in the brain. Shortly explained, when you listen to loud music, endorphins are released, that act on the opiate receptors in our brains, they reduce pain and boost pleasure, resulting in a feeling of well-being."

If I was going to work with her, I had to find a way to talk to her. Even if that way was to ramble facts over and over again. Anything was better than silences, I guess.

- "Yeah! and it also works like a stimulant, which I needed after the week we just had..."- I chuckled, and she looked at me for a second- "By the way, I noticed you have a problem with coffee and sugar"

- "I don't have a problem with coffee!"- I felt nearly judged by her statement.

- "And sugar!"- she added and snickered

- "You know you shouldn't profile other profilers"- I made my best to make a joke, and I guess I nailed it, 'cos she chuckled.

- "That's hardly profiling, Reid! that's just watching you prepare your coffee every morning"

- "Have you been spying on me?"- I could help but to chuckle at that conversation. I was having fun.

- "No way on earth! I just happen to like to drink coffee too, which leads us to the question I wanted to ask, it's still early; Morgan was right, do you want to have a coffee or something... I'm in the mood for something sweet."

- "And you were judging me for my coffee with extra sugar!"

- "I'm not judging you! I'm just pointing out that I noticed what you are doing and wondering how many cavities you already have."

I laughed. An honest, real, pure laughter. She has always made me laugh as I've never had. Like there are no problems, no worries, no traumas. Nothing bad.

- "I have no cavities, thank you very much!"

- "Fine! and are you in the mood for a late coffee and cupcake with me?"- I stayed quiet and looked at her- Don't feel pushed to do it just because I'm giving you a drive

- "No, no, it's not that. I just don't wanna bother you"

- "If I am inviting you, Reid, it's because I want to do it, not because I'm feeling forced to do it"- she kept her eyes on the road, but her voice was so reassuring I couldn't doubt a word.

- "Wouldn't your boyfriend get mad or something?"- I whispered the question 'cos I was scared of the answer.

- "Why should he?"- she looked shocked by the questions- "If he gets jealous, then he is not the guy for me."

I cut her a short smile and nodded. Her personality was so different from mine. It was exciting to have her around.

- "I could eat a donut"- and she clapped at my answer, thrilled with the plan.

- "That's the spirit! I know just the place!"

We talked until four in the morning that night. I don't know how I managed to do it, not because I was tired, but because I was very nervous. Well, I was at the beginning, but talking with (Y/N) has always come easy to me, somehow. To the guy who was never able to speak in public or with any girl, spending three hours in a cafeteria talking, eating donuts, and drinking coffee in the middle of the night was the most significant achievement.

(Y/N)'s point of view

- "How do you know a place open at this hour?"- Spencer asked me the very first time we were out together for coffee. It was already close to four in the morning, and I had started yawning, 'cos even with all the sugar and caffeine I had consumed that night, I was weary.

- "Sorry to break the news, doctor, but are not the only one with a sugar problem"- I licked a little frosting from my finger and grinned- "Sometimes after classes, or when I was too stressed studying, I would come here, get a coffee, a cupcake and just... do nothing for a while, just to let my brain rest I guess"

- "That makes total sense. The brain needs free time to process new information and turn it into something more permanent. Though the amount of time a mind needs to construct a durable memory probably varies from one person to the next, it also depends on the complexity of what that person is trying to learn"

- "Well, believe me, it felt like I needed two weeks to process all the information, but I only had half an hour if I was lucky"

- "Then you are already trained for this work. We don't have much time to do anything when we are on a case"

- "That's what I've seen so far... but at least you all get along. It would suck to be stuck in a team that fight egos and divisions."

- "Yeah, you are right, we are lucky to have very nice people working with us... everybody brings something different to the team"- I nodded at his words and looked down at my fingers as I tried to wipe the leftover sticky glazed with a napkin.

I had been working there for four weeks already, and I still felt like I didn't belong. Honestly, it was such hard work being there, not because they weren't a great team, but because it was more challenging than I ever imagined. Profiling and traveling all over the nation catching serial killers was... stressing, to say the least.

- "You bring a completely different point of view in every case"- he continued speaking and looked down at his cup- "And your knowledge in Linguistics adds more information to the profiles, which helps working faster and better."

I held my breath at his words. I knew he was just polite, just trying to make me feel better about my job performance these weeks.

- "I can assure you, you have been an incredible addition to the team"- he stayed quiet for a second, still just staring at his cup.

- "Thank you."

- "It's true; I'm not telling you this 'cos I think you need to hear it. I wanted you to know 'cos that's how we all feel."

I know I was blushing. I don't know how to take a compliment. Not that I get many, but it's always weird to hear someone telling you so nice things about your work.

- "Thank you, Spencer"- he finally looked at me and nodded. We stayed in silence for a few minutes. I didn't know what else to say, and he seemed to be embarrassed.

- "Thank you, actually"- he finally whispered.

- "Why? I didn't do anything"- I was confused, but he was earnest about his words.

- "Thank you, 'cos you have been very nice to me, even though I am a barely tolerable person."

- "What? Barely tolerable? What the hell are you saying?"

- "I mean, I know I drive people crazy 'cos I am always rambling and giving unnecessary facts all the time"- I narrowed my eyebrows, not getting why he was saying those things.

- "You do not do that."

- "Maybe you haven't been here long enough to realize I am always giving facts, and..."- he was honest. He actually believed people were annoyed by him. It hurt me to know that's what he thought of himself.

- "I realized that within the first three hours into the job, but I think that's amazing."

- "People would always say it's annoying."

- "Why would they say that?"

- "Because... I know they do."

- "Well, whoever says or thinks that are assholes, I like your rambling."

Reid snorted, and I hit his arm with my knuckles softly. I really felt bad he was so insecure, and most of all, he thought everybody hated him.

- "I mean it, Spencer, I wish I knew half the things you know, and if being with you means having to listen to your rambling, I think it's incredible, 'cos it gives me the chance to soak some of that knowledge."

The way he smiled, it was like his whole face lit up. He blushed, obviously embarrassed, and it also blushed me, 'cos he was gorgeous when he smiled.

- "So please, don't stop the facts, not with me"- he nodded and sipped what was left of his coffee.

After another few minutes, we left, and I drove him home. We were in a small sugar rush; we were too tired to have a full effect. I knew all I wanted was my bed and sleep the whole weekend.

- "I had a great time tonight"- I parked my car outside his building and smiled- "At Penelope's and with you"

I was so excited we had finally talked and gotten closer. I wanted to be friends with him so badly. Why? I don't know. I just knew I needed him in my life, from that minute on.

- "I had a great time too"- he smiled and held his satchel- "See you Monday"

- "Yeah! See ya!"

- "Drive safe!"

- "I will!"

I got home that night and laid on my bed, fully dressed. I barely took off my shoes and fell asleep right away. I was too tired to think, too tired even to put on my pajamas. But I wasn't too tired to remember Spencer's smile while he ate donuts. His dorky glasses, the way he gesticulated everything he said when he was excited about a subject. I was glad I had finally gotten to talk to him for once. And I couldn't wait to do it again.

Back then, Paul and I had just started dating. I wasn't in love with him, but he was a nice, funny guy I loved spending time with. I met Paul a couple of months ago at a friend's party. He was fun to be with, and we had a lot of things in common. We were both into music. He had a band, I didn't back then, but eventually got mine over time. He was like me, nothing like my friends at the BAU.

I thought that was cool, 'cos he represented a part of me I didn't want to lose working at the FBI. I was terrified I was going to lose myself in my new job. I saw how it affected dad's and my brother's life, how they were consumed by it in almost every single way. It was why my parents got divorced. It was why my brother couldn't keep a girlfriend for longer than a few months. 'Cos work was first, and their job was everything. The crazy hours, having to answer every call, no matter how busy you were. I thought it was sick how work could be your whole life. I was decided not to let it happen.

Yeah. I had no idea what I was getting into.

Soon after I joined the BAU, the nightmares began. I guess nothing prepares you to see so many people die. And nothing prepares you to kill someone, no matter if that someone is a child abuser.

I took the shoot, didn't even hesitate. It went right between his eyes. It was him or me, I know that. He was going to kill me. But still, it was hard.

Derek turned to me as I stayed still, in shock. It took me a few seconds to even breathe. I had just killed a person. It wasn't just some random thing.

- "(Y/N), are you ok?"- he landed a hand on my shoulder, and I quickly nodded.

- "Yeah, I'm ok... that was fast"- it was all I could say and turned to him. He gave me a short warm smile and wrapped an arm around me. I flinched at his touch right away and held my breath again. I don't know if he felt it, but still, he didn't let me go.

Derek has that thing when he doesn't care if you want it or no; he will give you his love and friendship when he feels you deserve it. I guess I'm lucky to call him my friend. And he really pushed that hug thing I still have.

- "Are you ok?- Spencer's voice was a sweet whisper. He sat carefully next to me in the jet and gave me a warm cup of tea- "I made you the one you like"

Of course, he had noticed my favorite brand, 'cos that's what Spencer does, he takes mental notes of everything and never, ever forgets. I wonder if that's a good thing or not. I guess it depends on what you remember.

- "Yeah, just tired"- working at the BAU, you can hide any kind of feeling behind the "I'm so tired" excuse. Mostly because we are indeed tired the whole time.

- "It was an extreme case"- I sipped my cup of tea and nodded at his words- "Do you..."

- "No, I'm ok, I don't wanna talk about it"- he bit his lips as he smiled. We both stayed quiet for a while. He read (somehow, at a relative normal peace), and I drank my tea. I couldn't concentrate on anything, so I just looked outside and tried not to think about the unsub's face and how he looked when I killed him.

- "How was your first time?"- I finally asked him, and I think my question caught him by surprise, 'cos he nearly jumped on his seat- "Not your first time in the sack, the first time you had to..."

- "No, I got it, I got it"- he was already blushing, it was adorable- "My first time was actually the first time you drove me home"

- "Really?"

- "Yeah"- he made a pause and gathered his thoughts, I guess- "I didn't really go out to the field a lot before 'cos I didn't have my firearm qualification"

And suddenly I remembered how embarrassed he was about it on my first day at the BAU. Derek made sure everybody knew about it 'cos he thought it was hilarious. And I thought he was a jerk for making fun of him.

- "And did it affect you?"- it was a stupid question. I knew Spencer was a sensitive person; of course, killing someone was going to affect him in many ways- "I mean, how did it affect you?"

- "I couldn't feel anything at first"

- "Shock?"- he nodded and sighed- "Gideon said that maybe I didn't know what I felt and that's why I thought I didn't feel a thing, but that wasn't it, it was like I was numbed inside... but then when it hits you"- he murmured- "And you can't stop thinking about it"

- "I think it hit me sooner than I thought"- I closed my eyes and sighed, but even then, I could feel those empty dead eyes staring at me.

- "Wanna know what helped me?"- Spencer's voice was velvety and soothing. It felt relaxing talking to him.

- "What?"- I whispered and turned to look at him

- "Remember two things: you did what you had to do"- I sighed at that with a small smile. It didn't sound like something I could believe at that moment.

- "And the second?"

- "A lot of kids are alive and safe because of you"

Now, that made me feel a lot better. Reid was right. I did what I had to do to help people. That guy wasn't going to stop.

- "Thanks"- I managed to give him a slight smile, and he did the same.

- "I'm here to talk if you want to"

It felt like he was really making an effort to say those words. I didn't know why it was still so hard for him to talk to me. Maybe it was still a sensitive subject for him, so I did what I do best: I joked about it.

- "Thank you... I'll try to avoid the issue as much as I can, but when I collapse under the pressure, I promise I'll come to you"- he chuckled at my answer and nodded right away.

- "Great plan."

And a few days later, I couldn't sleep anymore. I kept waking up to those eyes. I kept feeling guilty for killing a child abuser who was trying to kill me. I relived in my mind that moment over and over again.

- "Babe, come back to bed"- Paul found me sitting by the kitchen island staring at a herbal teacup at two am. It was my third insomnia night.

- "Yeah, I'll be right there"- he turned to walk back to the room but hesitated and looked at me again.

- "Do you want to talk about it?"- I shook my head, still not taking my eyes from the cup. He slowly walked to me and held my hand - "Come on, babe, everything looks worse at two am."

And he was right. Everything seemed to be worse when it came to my mind in the middle of the night. But it didn't get any better during the day either. He cuddled with me in my bed and fell asleep soon after. I just stayed there, feeling his chest moving softly with his soft breathing, thinking I had killed someone, and it wasn't going to be the last time I was going to face something like this.

Spencer's point of you

Do you want to know something sad? I was excited we had an unsub in New York 'cos I had never been there. Back then, I didn't know my colleagues were going to tease me about it. I didn't give it too much thought. I honestly wasn't good at leaving my house when we weren't in a case. Most of my traveling had been due to work, and other than La Vegas and Pasadena, I hadn't been to many cities just to sightsee.

Why am I thinking about that right now? 'cos we were in New York the day (Y/N) gave me her first gift.

Everybody had made fun of me during dinner because I didn't know how to eat with chopsticks. JJ tried to teach me, which also caused hours of Morgan's teasing for the rest of the trip. Thankfully, they dropped the jokes when we went back to the police station to take one last look at the profile after we got a call out unsub had killed a cop this time.

But after two hours of thinking, neither of us was honestly able to give any new idea to the case. Hotch insisted we head back to the hotel to have some rest. (Y/N) was one of the last ones to leave, along with Gideon and me.

- "Stop looking at the board"- she said, standing by my side, bag in hand- "Let's go. Your big brain needs to rest."

- "I won't be able to sleep knowing I'm missing something"- I answered, not taking my eyes from the board

- "Come on"- (Y/N) playfully hit my arm- "You need your eight hours of sleep to be a fully functional genius"

- "You should try to get a full night's sleep as well"- I turned to her and watched her eyes widen- "What? Do you think I didn't notice you haven't been sleeping?"

- "No, but I thought you were going to wait until I had a mental breakdown to force me to talk about it; that was the plan, right?"

I tried not to laugh, but it was hard; she is so funny, though I knew that was a sensitive subject, it had been weeks since the incident, and it was clear (Y/N) wasn't processing everything right. If anything, her jokes were a coping mechanism to avoid talking or even thinking about what had happened.

- "We can also talk about it, just... talk"

- "I know what happens with me, Reid"- she whispered and looked around. Gideon was outside, no way near us, but still, she kept her voice low. It made me see she was scared he would hear her, 'cos she didn't want him to think she was weak.

- "I guess I just have to make peace with it. It was gonna happen, and it will happen again, it's my job, it's part of what I do, end of it."

I looked at her and nodded in silence. There was so much I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't shake the thought she was going to laugh at me.

- "Do you want to?"- I made a pause and took a deep breath. Yes, I was very nervous- "Do you want to walk back to the hotel? it's just a few blocks and maybe... fresh air can help you relax?"

I didn't mean to hesitate so much, but it was scary for me to ask her to spend time on our own. I don't know why. It wasn't just with her; it happened with everybody at that point in my life. I was sure no one wanted to spend time with me. Why would they?

- "Can we have a midnight cupcake?"- she asked and smiled. I bit my lips and pretended to give the idea a lot of thinking, though I was craving donuts ever since we didn't have time for dessert at dinner.

- "Just one, and no coffee"

- "What are you? The sleeping police?"- she teased me and led the way. We waved at Gideon and walked outside the police station.

For a rainy night, it was freezing. But I didn't care much. I was too busy looking around, it was technically my first night out in New York, and though I was just leaving work and walking back to the hotel, it was the biggest adventure I have had there so far.

For the first couple of minutes, we walked in silence. (Y/N) looked at her feet, hands stuffed in her pocket as I walked next to her, holding my umbrella for the two of us. I tried to take in everything that was going on around us. It was exciting, being there, alone. I was a twenty-four-year-old Supervisory Special Agent of the FBI, and I was excited to walk with a friend in the New York city streets. No wonder why Morgan called me "kid."

- "Did you know more than 800 languages are spoken in New York City? that makes it the most linguistically diverse city in the world"- I had to start rambling facts after a while because I guess I couldn't help it.

- "Vraiment?"- she answered, and I chuckled. Of course, Master in Linguistics.

- "Oui"- I thought we could have a whole conversation in french; it would have been fun and fascinating, but my French was very rusty, and I didn't know if she was fluent or just learned a few things.

- "When I was a kid, I dreamt about living in New York. I was obsessed with it"- she kept looking down at her feet as she spoke, and I turned to look at her for a second. She looked sad somehow, or that's what I read from her. I've always done my best not to profile profilers. It's harder than you imagine.

- "Why?"- she chuckled at her thoughts and kept her eyes on her shoes.

- "You know how they always make you feel no matter how weird you might be, you are still going to fit in New York?"

- "You are not weird"- I couldn't help but frown and look at her- "You are..."

- "I am weird, we are all weird, that's what makes us great"

I loved that thought. That's why I've never forgotten it. Lie, I can't forget. I remember everything we've said to each other because I want to, not because I have an eidetic memory.

- "But when you are in school, everybody is trying to fit it and be normal, and that wasn't me at all..."

I didn't see that coming, and I have to admit it, I loved it. I often felt I was an outsider at the BAU. Hotch, Gideon, Morgan, Elle, JJ, they all fit in everywhere we'd go. Meanwhile, everybody looked at me, wondering what the hell am I doing there. I could read it on their faces. The fact the team had to introduce me as "Doctor Spencer Reid" is a sign they are making an effort to make me look older and more experienced. Reliable, even.

- "Why would you say you are weird?"- I had to ask- "You look very normal to me, I mean it"- she raised an eyebrow and didn't say a word. She just pulled my jacket and dragged me to a coffee shop.

- "Cupcakes, Reid, you can't expect me to tell you embarrassing facts about my life without a cup of coffee and a mountain of sugar."

JJ always said I ate like a kid, too many pastries and candy, no salad. Meanwhile, (Y/N) kept pushing sugar into my body. I liked that. They were both so different. JJ treated me like I didn't know how to deal with life. (Y/N) treated me like I could help her deal with life. JJ wanted to help me grow up. I could feel (Y/N) wanted to be my friend, and I loved that. I had never felt someone longing for my company. It was always the opposite. I usually felt people were stuck with me.

For months I kept comparing the two of them in my head. JJ had such condescending manners, it sometimes made me think she might actually have feelings for me. Other times, Morgan would call her my mom, which took all the hopes from my mind.

- "What do you do in your free time, Reid?"- (Y/N) sat in front of me in a booth. Right in between us, a table with two coffees, a red velvet cupcake, and a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles.

- "I read, study..."- I didn't give much thought to my answers- "I also write a letter to my mom every day"

- "That's so cute"- I felt how my cheeks turned blood red, and she smiled at me sweetly.

- "Thanks..."- I sipped my hot cappuccino and winced as the coffee burned my tongue, and she chuckled.

- "Slowly, doc, or are you in a hurry?"

- "Definitely not, I have no other plan, I mean, I could sleep, but I know I won't, and, and I know you won't sleep either, so"- the words left my mouth at such a fast pace, not even I got them all. (Y/N) nodded and started taking apart her cupcake, little by little.

- "That's awesome, 'cos I like hanging out with you, and I don't feel like hanging out with Elle tonight. We are sharing rooms."

- "You don't like her?"- now that was breaking news- "I thought you two got along"

- "Don't get me wrong, I like her. I just don't feel like being the version of myself I am when I'm with her"

I looked at her, not sure of where she was going. She took a piece of cake and ate it slowly.

- "You lost me"- (Y/N) sighed and ran a finger around the edge of her cup.

- "Are you really you the whole time when you are at work, Reid?"

- "Well, yes?"- I wasn't sure that was the answer she wanted, but it was the only one I had- "I don't know how to be anybody else"

That was the whole truth. That's still the truth. Maybe that's why I have never been popular. People say I have no empathy, that I can't read any social cues. If I knew how to be someone else, I would probably try to change that and be a Spencer that's entirely sympathetic and social, like everybody else. But I can't force myself to act differently.

She stared at me, and I could feel the frustration piling behind her small smile.

- "Do you want to know something weird?"- her eyes shone as she stared into mines asking the question

- "Always"

- "You are the only person at the BAU I feel I can be myself with"- she whispered and sipped her coffee again.

- "Thanks?"- I was confused- "But... you are not that different with me than you are with the rest of the team"

- "Well, I am... I don't share who I really am at work because I am afraid"

- "Why? What scares you?"- she sighed and laid back on the seat. I kept my eyes fixated on her until she furrowed her brows, staring back at me

- "Are you trying to profile me, Spencer? 'cos we are not supposed to profile each other. I'm pretty sure it was in the contract I signed"- I smiled, busted, and nodded.

- "If it makes you feel any better, you are hard to read"

- "I'm a good liar, don't tell anyone"

She was proud of her answer, and I guess she should have been. You have to be an excellent liar to catch unsubs, get in their head, play with them when you have to make them talk. I guess she was ahead of me in that area.

- "Well, If it makes you feel better, I feel more comfortable around you than most of the team"

I closed my eyes as I spoke, and I knew my voice had been so low and soft, it hadn't been surprising if she hadn't been able to hear me, but she did.

- "Is it because I don't like touching people either?"- she joked, and a small smile stretched across my lips

- "It is because you"- I stopped and rearranged my thoughts. You could tell she was eager to hear the rest of my answer, and I was making sure not to make a fool out of myself.

- "It's because it feels you don't judge me for being me"

- "That's exactly how I feel, Spencer"- her smile was so big it made mine grow bigger as well.

- "But, why can't you be you with everybody?"- (Y/N) took a big bite of her cupcake, feeling more confident about our conversation and nodding.

- "Mmm, this is so damn good, you should try it, Reid"

- "Answer the question, (Y/N)"- I ignored her random comment and asked again- "Why can't you just be you?"

- "There are two answers to that question, and both of them are real"- she finally confessed and bit her lips, playing again with a little piece of cake on the dish.

- "I'm waiting"

- "You know, for someone who said has all the night off, you are indeed in a hurry now!"- she snickered and stuck out her tongue at me.

- "Fine, here's the truth: I don't want to share my whole real me at work because I am scared people will judge me and think I'm weird and too immature for the job, but at the same time, and this is the second reason, I don't wanna show my whole me at work 'cos I am afraid I'll lose it along the way, I am worried the FBI will take that weird part of me and will turn me into an SSA."

- "You are an S.S.A., (Y/N)"

- "I know, but I'm afraid I might end up being an ASS, Reid"

Her joke made me laugh so hard, tears fell down my cheeks. And she looked pleased to see me laughing.

- "See? That's me, the girl telling weird jokes the whole time 'cos can't stand a serious "grown-up" conversation. Can you imagine this (Y/N) talking with Hotch? Seriously, Reid, can you imagine?"

- "No, I can't"- I shook my head, still chuckling, and took a bit of my donut- "But I would definitely love to."

- "Do you want to know what I do in my free time?"- my mouth was still full, so I just nodded, feeling a little guilty I hadn't asked about her when she had asked about my hobbies.

- "I ride my longboard and play bass, do you think an SAA should be doing that? Do you think Elle does it? JJ? they are the perfect fit for the role. I am that kid at the back of the class who got a stroke of luck and managed to hang out with the cool kids"

- "Am I one of the cool kids?"- I had to ask

- "Yes, Reid, why?"

- "I've never been one of the cool kids before"- she gave me a severe look and sipped her coffee.

- "Here I am, pouring my heart and soul out for you, and all you care about is being one of the popular kids. That's being a lousy friend, Reid."

She was joking, and we both chuckled, but my chest tightened at her words, and the smile on my lips grew wider. She called me her friend for the first time that night.

- "I think you are overthinking this whole thing, (Y/N)"- she sighed at my words and finished her coffee- "We are all weird, you said it yourself"

- "Some on us more than other"

- "Yes, but that's what makes us great and unique. I told you, your vision brings a whole new point of view to the profiles, and I know what it's like to feel insecure people will judge you for being too young"

- "I know, that's why I'm glad you are here"

I am sure I was blushing, and I am absolutely certain she noticed because I heard her giggle as I looked down at my empty dish and fidgeted with my cup.

- "And... are"- I stuttered and narrowed my eyes. I knew I had to stop being so nervous around her; she was my friend, she had said it herself- "Are you ready to talk about your nightmares?"

- "Are you profiling I have nightmares?"- she raised an eyebrow and questioned my question

- "I am staring at the back rings under your eyes. It's clear you haven't been sleeping and considering we both know you went through a traumatic incident, to call it that way, you are clearly going through night terrors or nightmares"

- "Did you go through the same?"

- "Yes, I did"

- "And how did you overcome it?"

- "I haven't. I just made my peace with it"- you could read the deception on her face. That wasn't the answer she was waiting for.

- "They will be more sporadically, I promise, (Y/N)"

- "That's what's scares me too"

- "What?"

- "That one day I won't have the nightmares 'cos I'll be used to seeing the darkness and horror around me."

When we left the cafeteria, it was two in the morning, and the night was freezing. It was no longer raining, and the cold wind could freeze your skin in a second. (Y/N) looked at me as I shivered and opened her bag.

- "Here, put this on"- it was a purple scarf.

- "Thank you"- I was so cold I didn't hesitate. The wool was warm, soft, and it smelled like her- "It's pretty"- I felt I had to compliment it, 'cos she was too nice with me.

- "I made it myself"- you could tell she was proud. I tightened it around my neck and continued our way back to the hotel.

I hadn't felt I could count on someone at the FBI as I did with her. She wouldn't think I'm a kid; she wouldn't be forced to hang out with me. It felt pretty good to have a friend again. Ethan had been the last one I had lost. I always lose the people I love.

- "Thank you"- we were standing outside (Y/N)'s room back at the hotel. I took off the scarf and tried to give it back to her, but she didn't let me.

- "Keep, it's a present for being my first and best BAU friend"- I felt profoundly flattered, and I'm pretty sure I giggled, blushing- "Besides, purple looks good on you"

- "It's my favorite color"- I confessed- "And I'm not saying it just to make you feel good"

- "Then you have to keep it. It was made for you even when I didn't know it"- she smiled one more time and opened the door- "Good night, Reid."

- "Good night, (Y/N)."

----------

Series Masterlist

Chapter two

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bookofmirth · 3 years

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Hello! This is a bit different from your usual gwynriel/elucien asks, so I hope you don’t mind, but it’s something that’s been bothering me lately and I wonder if anyone else has noticed.

I’m not sure if it’s because if the upsurge in popularity of acotar on tiktok/twitter with a younger audience reading it, or if I’ve just been lucky and not noticed it before, but I’ve seen so many Tamlin stans coming out of the woodwork and it honestly bothers me.

I definitely do agree that Tamlin is a complex character and of course, it’s fine that people are interested in him (I really don’t care about him, but to each their own)! But lately there have been so many people in the fandom arguing that he’s a victim of PTSD who deserves better, often villainizing Feyre/Lucien because of this.

I‘ve seen takes that Feyre was gaslighting Tamlin when she told him she was happy with Rhys because Rhys still had the whole night court persona going on?? And that Lucien and Feyre were a horrible support system because they wouldn’t stand up to him (completely ignoring that when they did Tamlin … ya know … physically hurt both of them)? And that somehow Feyre spying in the Spring Court in ACOWAR was also abusive and manipulative towards Tamlin?

I just genuinely don’t understand where all of this is coming from. I try to be critical of SJM’s writing because I understand that it can be flawed, especially since I have problems with how Feysand was written after ACOWAR, Azriel’s issues with women, the IC’s treatment of Nesta, etc. But I just can’t seem to get behind these interpretations and I’m not sure if I’m just missing something (or ‘biased’ by Feyre’s POV as some claim).

Wooooooo boy, so I didn't know that this was a thing happening but lemme break down how wrong these people are with some of these arguments! This is going to get long.

(I definitely don't mind, I appreciate any ask that's not just about ship wars!)

So I'm going to lay out the claims people are making and talk about them one at a time.

Tamlin has PTSD:

Probably yes. In the beginning of acomaf, Feyre mentions that he has trouble sleeping, just like she does, and I believe he gets up at night, and this is when their relationship really deteriorates. I can't say for sure what he was experiencing, but it seems like he had a lot of anxiety and fears left over from Amarantha and watching Feyre die. The things he was experiencing emotionally are 1000% understandable and valid, even if it wasn't diagnosable PTSD.

But you know who else likely has PTSD? Lucien and Feyre.

Say it with me everyone: emotions do not always justify behaviors.

Feyre is gaslighting Tamlin:

Hell fucking no.

People need to learn what gaslighting is. Gaslighting is not just "lying". Gaslighting is not "disagreeing". Gaslighting is a very specific tactic used to make someone question their memory, their reality, to twist the truth.

Rhys definitely had a persona. That was a calculated decision. But when Feyre tells Tamlin that she is happy, she is not lying at all. Her telling Tamlin that she is happy has nothing to do with whatever lies or manipulations that Rhys did in the past. Why? Because even if Rhys was a super asshole dark dude, Feyre saying she is happy with him is still the truth. Feyre isn't lying, let alone gaslighting Tamlin, that idea is completely laughable.

The only way that people could say that Feyre is gaslighting Tamlin is to say that she is responsible for Rhysand's Dark persona, that she is the one who created it with the intention of making people question what they thought was true. Which she isn't. That isn't even the reason that Rhys created the persona. He created it to obscure the truth in the first place.

And even his persona isn't gaslighting? He isn't trying to make people question their reality. He isn't trying to make people question themselves. He is trying to make himself look scary. And so when he drops that persona, he is telling the truth. He isn't gaslighting people, he is saying "hey I wasn't being honest before but now I am".

And i think that's a big, big difference that people are failing to understand. Gaslighting is about trying to change other people's reality. Rhys's persona was about him. Feyre saying she was happy was about her. Neither of those things were about trying to make people feel like they were crazy.

So there has to be this reality. Let's say Rhys was spotted being menacing. Person A is like "hey, you look scary!" And he's like "noice, my evil plan is working." Then later on Rhys is like "hey you know what, I wasn't being honest before, I'm actually a Super Cool Dude." Person A might be confused for a minute because what they thought was true wasn't true, but they'll get there.

If it were gaslighting, on the other hand, it would go more like: Rhys: *is nice*. Person A: "hey, I thought you were scary though?" Rhys: "nah, that was my good twin, Rhysnaldo. I've never been nice a day in my life. You must be confused." Person A: *questioning everything they thought they just witnessed".

So yeah anyway, people gotta stop using that term if they don't know what it means.

Feyre manipulating Tamlin:

Personally, I agree with the argument that she manipulated Tamlin in the beginning of acowar. I don't think that's even a matter of interpretation, she went to Spring with the intention of burning shit down.

Feyre was not abusive towards Tamlin. She knew his weaknesses and exploited them. I don't care that she did that to him, I think that she deserved a bit of vengeance. However, personally I cannot stand the fact that in doing so she caused a lot of collateral damage and did not gaf. Deal with your abusive ex however you need to, Feyre. Don't knowingly, intentionally bring harm to other people in doing so.

Feyre and Lucien failing as a support system:

NO.

Feyre literally saved Tamlin's life by killing and dying for him. Lucien was also tortured by Amarantha because of Tamlin. Neither of them broke and betrayed him. They were incredibly loyal to him throughout acotar. Even now, when Lucien is being emotionally and physically abused by Tamlin, Lucien is still trying to work with him, make sure he is fed, make sure he doesn't completely lose his humanity fae-ness. Lucien is the only reason that the Spring Court hasn't completely collapsed while Tamlin wallows in his beasty feelings.

Any time that either Feyre or Lucien try to stand up to Tamlin, he gets manipulative and abusive. He emotionally manipulates Feyre into feeling guilty for wanting to be able to defend herself. He emotionally abuses Feyre by making her afraid of his anger and afraid of how he will react to anything that she says or does. He glares or shouts down anything the Lucien says.

Also, Tamlin is a High Lord! They can only do so much when it comes to standing up to him.

For real, Feyre and Lucien did literally everything that they possibly could in order to try to support Tamlin, and much of that was to their own detriment. In trying to support Tamlin, they got emotional and physical abuse in return. So no, fuck that. Being supportive does not mean we have to put up with abuse.

Being biased in Feyre's favor:

We are not biased by Feyre's POV in the sense that she is trying to mislead the reader, but we are limited by her POV because she doesn't know everything. She tells us the truth as she knows it. That is very different from a narrator who is intentionally trying to hide things or lie or mislead.

But even if we were biased by Feyre's POV, so fucking what??? Is it so wrong to take the side of a victim of abuse? Why do we need to try so hard to understand Tamlin's side? People can do that, of course, I have myself, especially later on in the story. In acofas I started to feel sorry for him. I've been mad at how Rhys treated him in acofas. But the idea of being biased in Feyre's favor means that we would have to question her, in some way, when she recounts the story of her abuse. That's disgusting, to me. What reason do we have to think she isn't telling her story truthfully?

We might naturally have more empathy towards Feyre because we heard the story from her POV, but again - why is that a bad thing? To hear a story from the victim of abuse and feel empathy for them??? Call me crazy but that's not a problem. I'm going to empathize with Feyre, and I'm going to believe Mor (and Rhys, and Lucien). The end.

A final word

Just something you said in the last paragraph struck me, in regards to Azriel's view of women and how the IC treats Nesta: those are not thing to criticize in sjm's writing, I think. Just because Tamlin is abusive doesn't mean that sjm shouldn't have written him that way, ya know? If there are inconsistencies in characterization or a lack of understanding of abusive dynamics or alcohol abuse or something like that, those are things we can criticize in her writing. But characters do uncomfy things, that's supposed to happen.

What I'm trying to say is that there is a difference between criticizing a character's actions, and criticizing the way they have been written. Pretty much everything above falls under the realm of "analyzing a character or story", not criticizing the author.

#acotar #acosf #feyre #tamlin #lucien #ask #anon

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dadzawa-adopt-dabi · 3 years

Text

Secret Baby Ch23

Dabi wakes up one day to Giran calling to ask him if he can take on an emergency mission. He needed Dabi to go spend a night or two at the League with Jin. Dabi says no at first, citing the agreement he made when he took Dabi on as an employee. Giran simply sends the exact same message back and Dabi knows he’s not truly asking. He doesn't have an option in whether or not he accepts doing Giran a favor. He’s been kind so far, routinely pays Dabi on time and always gives him his full amount of pay. He Can’t afford to lose his job, especially when the price for betraying Giran is higher than he can pay. “Come to the cafe right away, you will be shown straight to the back this time.”

Dabi swipes to mark it as read as texts Kikiyo’s babysitter, a feeling of dread and anxiety building. That’s normal for him though, he chalks it up to growing up the way he did and being on the wrong side of the law.

'You're going to have to find somebody else ‘Dabi.’ I know that’s not your actual name but whatever, Kikyo is obviously a mutant child. I'm not certified for Mutants. She wouldn’t stop screaming last time, I'm sick of the little feathers tripping me up as I try to take care of the other kids.”

Dabi tried to call her, to work something out just for the day as he drummed his fingers anxiously on the counter. Maybe get a recommendation if she wouldn't babysit Kikiyo, someone who was actually certified instead of going through this again. She must have blocked his number after sending the text because the number comes across as out of service. A quick internet search recommends a daycare several miles away from the nearest bus stop. It’s almost twice what he had been paying her. He swears and bites his lip as he rubs at his tired eyes, pacing in the kitchen. Kikiyo cries, scenting her fathers rising distressed scent filling the air. The black haired omega closes his eyes, biting his lip until it bleeds as he calls his mothers number. There’s a chance she won’t sell him out to Hawks or her husband. Slim as that chance is, Dabi isn’t left with any other choices with the trouble he’s gotten himself into and how much he owes Giran.

He can’t tell Giran that he can’t go through with this job. He can't take Kikiyo with him. This mission is coming at an inconvenient time and he doesn't have anyone else he can call to watch her. It’s been long enough, he misses his siblings if not his mother. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to do this. The phone rings and rings, Giran sends another message asking if he is on his way and Dabi sends back a simple no. Dealing with a disappointed or upset giran is somehow worse than calling his mother and he thinks about hanging up the phone and explaining to Giran for a moment that he has a kid and no babysitter. He doesn't know what other explanation he could give Giran that he couldn't disprove in minutes. He’s never been late before, the bus on his routes are suspiciously never late or full. He’s taken note of it before and had just been grateful. Only now does he consider that it may have been the work of his boss.

Maybe he was seeing how far he would go for him. At what point he would choose Kikiyo over his job. He had a job for kikyo, because of kikiyo. Dabi doesn't know the last time he had a moment or thought or action for himself that it wasn't stolen. Kikiyo’s cries turn to screeches as the call gets declined and Dabi’s stomach plummets. He feels sick as he leans against the counter, squeezing his eyes shut against a migraine hard. Redialing Rei’s number, just in case she had been away from the phone and missed the call. “This is Rei todoroki. May I ask who is calling this number?” she doesn't sound like she’s short of breath or in pain. Maybe it’s a good week. She can come and watch kikiyo and they can talk afterwards. Even if she never wanted Dabi, she can want and love her grandchild. Dabi can make peace with whatever he has to for her safety.

“Hey, it’s uh. It’s Touya.” saying his old name feels clumsy. Like an ill fitting coat, it reminds him of a different kind of stress. When he was struggling to be happy for just a few minutes before everything changed and he made plans to never be seen again. Married off to whoever gave enji the most benefits. Nothing but a tool and an object like his mother was treated. Kikiyo had very well saved him from that fate, Dabi isn’t sure how long he would have been able to bear it.

“I, I don’t know if you guys thought I was dead or um. I don't know what exactly you had thought happened to me but I, I had her, your granddaughter. I’m sorry I lied about geting a abortion. I’ve, I’ve been barely making it mom-” He hates doing this. Rei can’t offer him any help and even if she can she won’t. Dabi doesn't want to give up this thing he’s started with Giran. He can just, He needs his mom to watch kikiyo for a few hours. He can make it on his own with just this help from her.

“I can’t give you any money Touya.” she says and Dabi feels a tear dip down his cheek as he realizes her tone never shifted at the realization she was talking to him. Maybe enij reported him as a runaway but they couldn’t arrest him. they couldn't bring him home again because he was over 18.

“No, i. That's not why i’m calling. I need a babysitter.” He feels more tears leak out his eyes and he pokes Kikiyo’s cheek to make the screeching stop.

He places a few crackers in front of her and she’s instantly distracted with the food. Peeping at him every few bites and holding a cracker out for him that he smiles at as he pretends to eat it. Nibbling at her little fingers and forcing himself to smile at her to give his daughter the impression that everything is just fine. Daddy’s just weird sometimes and smells scared when there’s no need for her to worry.

“I have my own job. I just-” He hates begging her for things, she always lets him down and he’s tired of being out of options. “I’m not going to whatever rodent infested place you've landed yourself in to watch your child. Not when you shouldn’t be off partying with some random alpha who I’ve never even met or who never asked us to court you.” Despite the harsh words her tone is dreamy and far off. Dabi knows she’s staring off into space as she speaks on the phone, no clue where he is. Uncaring and someone else will have to dress the kids and feed them tonight, help with homework since he’s not there. She might come back to herself tonight, it's hard to judge over the phone.

“No mom. I’m by myself. The father isn’t in the picture. I told him the same thing I told you.” he panics slightly. She can't process what he’s saying right now, never has been able to. He needs her though. He’s gotten himself so far down in trouble that he can’t get out and he’s comfortable with that until now. “You can come meet your grand baby. She’s wonderfully behaved, I promise. She can just smell me right now and im. I’m scared and alone and i'm in some trouble if i don’t go on this job.” he admits as his eyes widen in panic and when Kikiyo wont eat her crackers and starts crying again he nearly cries with her. Instead he picks her up and bounces her in the air as he holds the phone between his ear and his shoulder. “I said no Touya. I can’t, He would find out. Just like he found out about your clubbing when that young blond man came knocking on the door. Looking for you. Everyone else had to pay for your mistakes because you weren’t here Touya. I refuse to clean up after a child I never wanted. I don’t have a grandbaby or an oldest omega son.” There’s a click as Kikiyo chirps shirlley and Dabi let himself slide down to sit against his counter.

Dabi’s head snapped up as there was a knock on the door. Grabbing Kikiyo and shuffling back away from the door. He glanced towards the balcony door as he held her tightly. They were on the 5th floor, no way he could make it down with her and still manage to run. The missed Call and message from Giran glowed on the screen and he pressed Kikiyo’s face tightly to his chest as he back away down the hallway. Not that it would do either of them any good to hide in the closet, still he pushed the clothes to the side and as he sank to the back shushing Kikiyo he spread them back forward to hide them. He hadn’t even taken his pills recently so he couldn’t hide them, throwing off distressed omega and baby pheromones.

His heart stopped beating as he buried his nose in Kikiyo's hair, clenching his eyes shut and clutching her to his chest as the door rattled and opened, of course Girain had sent someone who could pick locks.

He froze as his bedroom door rattled and a familiar scent met his nose. Kikiyo’s too seeing as how she managed to pull back enough to let out a cry to be picked up. It didn’t matter that Giran had come himself to harm them, that Dabi was terrified out of his mind and uselessly trying to shush her.

“I, I’m sorry Dabi. I didn’t think about how this must look to you.” Giran spoke outside the door. Dabi didn’t dare breath as he heard the rustle of clothes and Giran sat down outside the closet door. Scent deeply sad and like he was trying to comfort Dabi. Old books cigars and coffee the most comforting thing he’d smelled in a long time and the closest thing he’d ever had had to a comforting parental scent.

“Dabi, would. Would you mind coming out here? I can hold her if you wish or you can leave her in there but i think it’s time we talked. About what exactly you plan to do when your a single disowned omega with an infant getting involved in organized crime.” he sighed. Waiting another moment before he stood up and pulled back the door. Pushing Dabi’s clothes out of the way as Kikiyo cried loudly to be transferred to him and Dabi kept his head down, gritting his teeth against literally baring his fangs at Giran and shuffled them back deeper.

Giran let out a heavy long breath before stepping into the closet and sitting down across from them. Wrinkling his suit even further and closing the door behind him. Dabi marginally relaxed as he peered across the dark space at him. He took off his suit coat and placed it behind himself as he held his arms out for kikiyo. Dabi crumbled as he passed her into his arms as she coo’d at him. Patting him on the nose as tears dripped down Dabi’s face, head kept turned to the side as he avoided looking at Giran. Giran held her close and put her near his shoulder like he would burp her. Gently talking to her about how happy he was to meet her and how hard her dad was working to keep her safe. The words ‘I’m so proud of your father’ came out of his mouth and Dabi let out a sob before he managed to shove a mouth over his hand, fliniching back. “Dabi. Come here.” Giran held out his other arm as he comforted Kikiyo and Dabi dove for it. Getting easily pulled into his arms as he sobbed.

He doesn't know how long the 3 of them sat like that, sitting in Dabi’s closet as he sobbed and Kikiyo giggled and Giran held them both.

#thedarkonewrites #bnha #mha #Dabi #Hawks #Dabihawks #omega verse #secretbabyfic #OmegaDabi #AlphaKeigo #DabiHawks

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kneamet · 3 years

Text

Angel of cards (7/16)

Trigger Warning: yandere, obsession, obsessive thoughts.

Summary: Joker, Mr. J, anarchist psychopath, Tom Hiddleston. He had many nicknames. Joker was Gotham’s most dangerous and insightful man, with sharp makeup and horribly memorable scars on his face in the form of a smile. He was absolutely crazy and deadly. No one knows his real identity and everyone is afraid of his cruel jokes. But what happens when he becomes obsessed with an ordinary girl?

She belongs to him. No one can take her away from him. Even The Batman.

Chapter seven: unexpected guests

Harvey just couldn't think rationally the last day. Blake. His beloved niece, whom he had so fiercely protected and so passionately cherished. She was his favorite relative, the only person who supported him in what he was doing now.

And now, he was standing in an elevator with an equally beloved man, a beloved woman, Rachel Dawes, who was the most beautiful person in his life. The love of his life. Rachel had always been sympathetic and untruthful to him, and there was nothing he could do to repay her. Except to propose to her.

Harvey, as well as his Rachel, were now at a" party " with Bruce Wayne, with whom his beloved had known since childhood. And that's fine, even when Bruce, with his pretentiousness, infuriated him. But that was just a small thing, given that he'd called him this afternoon to let him know that he'd do everything he could to find Blake.

Dent looked at Rachel, who was biting her lip in her usual way and looking a little worried. He knew that his beloved, as well as he himself, did not particularly like all these social events, and they liked an ordinary evening with delicious wine and an old movie more.

Suddenly, the elevator stopped and opened its doors, giving Harvey and Rachel a view of the rich people standing around each other drinking champagne.

"Harvey Dent, scourge of the underworld... Rachel suddenly began, beginning to circle slightly around Dent and look at him with what Harvey, and probably Bruce, thought were beautiful eyes. "...scared to death of the powerful, " she said ironically, but she still understood that Harvey was having a hard time, which he basically appreciated. Suddenly her eyes caught on something, and she smiled and looked back at Harvey. "I'll be back soon."

"Rachel," Dent said softly as she left, and suddenly a familiar voice came from the left side.

"Would you like some courage, Mr. Dent?" said a man who looked very familiar, but Harvey had some doubts that this was the man Rachel had told him about.

"Thank you. Alfred, right?" Harvey decided to make sure as he accepted the glass.

"That's right, sir," the older man replied with a polite smile.

"Rachel talks about you all the time. You've known her all her life," Dent knew that Alfred was one of the only people who cared about Rachel. She always praised him.

"Oh, not really, sir," Alfred corrected quickly, shifting the tray to his other hand.

"Should we be wary of her crazy exes?" Harvey looked away and looked into the crowd, looking for Rachel.

"Oh, you have no idea how much," Alfred advised and disappeared into the crowd, disappearing unnoticed and smiling cunningly. Harvey looked up at him in surprise, his mouth slightly open.

But no, I need to find Rachel now.

***

The social gathering, as the rich people called it, or the simple party, as Rachel, Bruce, and Harvey would have called it, was going well. People were drinking champagne and wine, and the music played in the background in a quiet background, only adding to the charm.

Everything was fine. Bruce Wayne, surrounded by a crowd of Russian ballerinas, arrived in a private helicopter, saying that he was a little late. He even thanked Harvey for his contribution.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," a loud and drawling baritone voice suddenly rang out, drawing the attention of people who turned their drunken eyes toward those who had arrived, until they noticed his makeup and heard the sound of a cracked lamp somewhere above.

Shouts were heard from the sides. The Joker grinned. That was exactly what he wanted. It was so nice to see their frightened faces. He took a step forward, stepping out of the elevator and passing on, looking for the people who were now looking at him in pitiful fright.

He felt like a God now. A God who can control people's feelings and make them do what he wants. Oh, how he wanted his angel to listen to him. His lovely, frightened little angel, probably begging hard for help right now. She was glad to be with him, though.

"Now we'll entertain you," he said again, grinning at the people around him. "I have one question:" he drawled, walking slowly towards the people and even slightly dancing and jumping up and down. His usual manner, no wonder. "Where's Harvey Dent?" he shouted loudly to the entire room, taking a glass of champagne and spilling most of it as he stared at the man. "Do you know where Harvey is? Do you know him?"" he turned to the other man, placing a glass of unpleasant alcohol, which he did not particularly like, on the snack table.

The Joker slowly surveyed the people. He saw in them the whole spectrum of negative emotions, ranging from anger to contempt with horror. How ugly they all are. And no, not physically, like the Joker, but morally.

"You know, me and his family will be fine," the Joker said to no one else, making his usual smacking lips.

"We can't be intimidated by bandits," the voice said. It seems that someone was very brave, Joker thought, and turned to the owner of the old voice.

That's right, there was an elderly man standing next to him, raising his head up and up. It seems that someone wanted to show their superiority.

"Listen..." the Joker muttered, pulling a small pull-out knife from his nearest pocket and sliding it up unnoticed, his other hand shaking as he straightened his hair. "...you look like my father, " the man said with disdain in his voice, literally running into the older man with quick movements and putting a knife to the corners of his mouth. "I hated my father," he said with hatred, only pressing harder and feeling the indignant and frightened feeling in the man.

"Okay, wait," came a sudden voice from the left side. Voice. Female. Slightly squeaky, but quite pretty. Such voices do not wish you well. They will surely only be able to do harm.

The Joker turned his head and lowered his hands to look in the direction of the voice. A woman was looking at him, hands on her hips. A pretty woman. Brown hair, softly tied up in a bun, and blue eyes. She was really beautiful.

But the Joker had always known that beautiful girls were equal to loss and suffering. So no, especially since she reminded him too much of the woman he hated so vividly and despised so fiercely. His mother.

And even more so, this woman was no more beautiful than his angel. No, his angel was perfect. She was simply incomparable and he must protect his angel. Definitely should.

"Hello, beautiful," the Joker said gently, as some might think, and very mockingly, smoothing his hair with the hand that held the knife. "You must be Harvey's chick," he said gruffly, pointing at the woman with the knife as people backed up around her. But no, although he allowed himself to communicate with other women in this way, he would not allow himself to communicate with his angel in this way.

Joker could see the contempt on the face of the Harvey woman, who was looking at him with defiance and a little fear. Really brave.

Finally, the Joker moved even closer to the woman who came up to his chin. How low. He looked down at her and lifted his hand, smacking his lips lightly. "You're so nervous. Is it because of the scars? Tell me where they're from?" he asked her, asking impossibly stupid questions. She turned away and looked away as the Joker quickly cupped her face in his hands, pointing the knife at her mouth. "Hey," he said, treating her very roughly. "Look at me," he advised, leaning closer to her father and creating a dangerous effect. "I had a wife. Beautiful as my angel, " he saw her surprised and frightened look, felt her gears turning with her brain. "She told me I was too sad..." he put the knife in his mouth."...that I need to smile more often. “She was a gambler, and she owed the sharks a lot. Hey, " seeing her not looking at him, the Joker took offense and only pressed harder on the knife. "They cut her face once," he continued, only squeezing the woman's face harder, which only made her wince. "We had no money for the operation. It was killing her, " he whispered softly. "I just wanted her to smile again. I wanted her to know that I didn't care about the scars. 'So...' He only paused, as if amplifying the effects of the silence. "...I put the blade in my mouth and did it... he explained, tucking a curl behind his ear with his free finger. On the one hand, it might seem that he was just flirting with her, but no. He is faithful, and will always be faithful only to his angel. "...by myself. And you know what? She couldn't see me," the Joker said in mock bitterness, raising his eyebrows and continuing to press with shaking hands. "She's gone. Now I see the irony. I'm always smiling now, " he drawled, when suddenly Rachel felt a kick in the balls.

Oh, he covered it with his hands, but also quickly removed them. The Joker looked at the woman and shook the knife slightly.

"You like to fight. I like it, " he remarked, and was about to move closer to her when a painfully familiar and filtered voice came from behind.

"Then you'll like it."

Batman. The Joker smiled, not even turning to look at him. It's time for a great game.

***

"What have I done," a small boyish voice whispered. The guy opened his eyes in amazement and fell to his knees in surprise, continued to look at his hands full of blood. The red blood that had oozed from his mother earlier.

He looked at his mother's corpse, still not believing what was happening. What's happening?

"You did the right thing," the voice said. Such a familiar voice in my mind. The joker. He mentally patted the main person on the shoulder and roughly kissed his forehead, which was lowered down. "You've done well, but I'll take your place now, my dear boy Tom."

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emerald-echeveria-plant · 3 years

Text

[[Part 4 of ???]]

Stuck with you

//Baozhai and Islay walked through the jungle. Islay cutting down leaves in their way with her sword.//

Baozhai, looking at the map: You think we'll find any skeletons through here??

Islay: How should I know? I Never heard of this place before.

Baozhai: Oh well, then allow me to tell you about this place!

Islay: please don't-

Baozhai: The Paititi was a civilization that were known for having tons of gold and practically living in it everday! Everything they had was made out of gold. Bowls, statues, and even clothing! Isn't that amazing to know??? Then one day the the civilization just disappeared! As well as the gold items and riches they had. Once outsiders arrived, all they found were statues and the abandoned villages. The weirdest thing they found was murals, depicting where they supposedly hid their treasure...

Islay:

Islay: How do you know all that? I thought you were supposed to be stupid or something.

Baozhai: Oh Ironbeard told me- HEY! I'm not dumb! I have the intelligence of a highschooler thank you very much! >:(((

Islay: Yeah, yeah whatever you say.

Baozhai, still angry: I could literally wire your mouth shut if you said that in front of a crowd of people..!

Islay, stop walking and turns to Baozhai: Baozhai, let me get one thing straight with you. I don't care for your threats and I'm not afraid of you. Everyone else on the ship might cower in fear when you brutalize someone but I've seen other pirates with less anger issues do worse. You're just a temperamental brat who gets offended at the slightest comment that criticizes you. Now all I want to do is get this treasure, leave, and ignore the fact that you still exist... You think you can manage shutting your mouth for once?

Baozhai:

Baozhai, pouts: fine I'll be quiet but I won't be happy about it >:(

Islay, rolls her eyes: Just make sure you don't loose the map.

//Islay took a few steps forward. She pushed some giant leaves out of the way. In front of them was a stone path with strange runes drawn on them. Baozhai looked at the map. She took a step forward and put her pressed her foot down on the path. Immediately, arrows came flying out from the walls. Baozhai quickly backed away before one of the arrows could pierce her.//

Islay: The classic arrows coming out of walls and trying to figure out the correct pattern on the floor... How cliche.

Baozhai: Good thing this map shows you how to cross.

//Just as the two were about to cross, a gunshot fired near their feet. The two women jumped back. A few feet from the left of them, stood Flint and Billy. Flint had the gun pointed towards the women.//

Flint: Not so fast ya' harlots.. give us that their map and we'll let ye both walk free..

Islay: Fuck off mate! This is our map and we're getting to that treasure!

Bones: Islay, we all know where this is going. Ye really want to risk a limb over that map?

Islay, holding her sword towards them: I'd rather die for it then let ye rats have it!

//She rushes towards the two. Unfortunately, she was taken down by Billy with a swift kick to the stomach. Billy put himself on top of her, putting her arms behind her back. Preventing her to do anything else harmful.//

Islay, struggling underneath Billy: Doesn't matter! My accomplice will tear you both apart!!

Flint: Well then I guess we'll have have pry it from their cold dead han-

Baozhai, hands him the map: Here you go :)

//Flint, Bones, and Islay all stand there completely stunned for a few seconds. Islay stared at Baozhai with her mouth gaping. Flint snatches the map out of Baozhai's hand.//

Flint: Seems like yer accomplice is more accommodating than ye..

Baozhai, hugs Flint tightly: you're so handsome..

//Flint stared, unamusedly at the small woman. He tried gentle pushing her off of him. But alas, Baozhai stuck to him like glue. Flint attempted to shove her off but still she stuck onto him. With all his strength, he tried to shove her off.//

Flint: LET GO OF ME!

Baozhai: 💕

//Flint grabbed Baozhai by her shoulders. He put his foot up against her, trying to pry her off of him. Fortunately, he managed to get her off of him.//

Baozhai: sorry... Couldn't help myself from wrapping my arms around your big, beefy, frame~

Flint, obviously disgusted: ...

Flint: tie em' both up Billy..

//Billy nods as he takes out some rope. A few minutes later the two women are tied, back to back to each other. Flint and Billy leave them behind as they successfully cross the booby trap.//

Islay, eye twitching angry: I cannot ... BELIEVE YOU HANDED OVER THE FUCKING MAP! WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO IT YOU FUCKING IDIOT. YOU COULDN'T DO THAT BRUTAL SHIT YOU LIKE TO DO TOWARDS THEM?? DID YOUR TWO FUNCTIONING BRAINCELLS GIVE UP ON YOU???

Baozhai: I'm sorry! I couldn't help myself.. he was just so dreamy💕 I feel like we had a real connection there!

Islay: HE PUSHED YOU OFF OF HIM! HOW WAS THAT A "REAL CONNECTION"????

Baozhai: it didn't seem like through his actions but I could feel it.. emotionally 🥺

Islay: OH I'M GOING TO SHOW YOU A REAL CONNECTION YOU STUPID SON OF A BI-

//Cut back to Billy and Flint walking through the jungle. Flint was holding the map.//

Bones: you think those two ladies will be fine..?

Flint: I'm sure they will. If they don't, too bad.

Bones: I mean, I feel a little bad.. I knew Islay for a few years and seeing her again was pretty nice... Until she tried killing me. That other girl seemed to like you a lot too..

Flint, sighs: They're the enemy, Billy. Don't think you should feel bad for em'. If the captain was here, he'd smack you on the side of the head.

Bones:

Bones: but he isn't here..

Flint: I can clearly see that-

//Suddenly, Flint fell through the ground. Flint was clinging to the edge of the ground. Below him was molten lava... Seemed as though it was another one of the booby traps. Unfortunately they had overlooked it. Billy, quickly began to pull Flint up. As he began to pull him up, the map slowly slipped out of hands. Flint, just now realizing this, tried grabbing the map. Unfortunately, the map fluttered down into the lava.//

Flint: No, no, no!

//Map: disintegrates.//

Flint: GODDAMNIT!

//Billy successful pulls Flint out of the hole.//

Bones: You okay??

Flint: No! Damnit I lost the FUCKING map!

Bones: It's okay maybe we can-

Flint: No, it is not okay! I lost the fucking map because I chose to talk instead of looking where I was walking! GODDAMNIT, GODDAMNIT, GODDAMNIT!

//Cut back to Islay and Baozhai. Baozhai was trying to figure out a way to untie them.//

Baozhai: maybe if we... No that wouldn't work.. how about! No, no, that wouldn't work either.. HUH! I've got it!

Islay, dying on the inside: what is it...?

Baozhai, slowly tries to use her knees to get up: we'll... Stand up.. and walk to the treasure tied together!

Islay: Sounds stupid.. but by this point what choice do I even have..?

//Islay uses her knees to also get up. Struggling but successful the two were able to get off the ground.//

Baozhai: Okay! Now we just run across the trap!

Islay: If I die doing this... Tell the crew... I hate you more than that warden that almost killed me..

Baozhai: I'll keep that noted!

//Together the two began to run towards the trap. Immediately tons of arrows flew out of the walls. They screamed in terror as the arrows came close to piercing their skin. With luck on their side, they managed to get across without any arrows sticking to them.//

Baozhai, breathing heavily: see.. that.. wasn't.. so bad..

Islay, white as a ghost: I think I may have wet myself there.

Baozhai: ... Gross...

Islay: I SAID I MAY HAVE!

//Cut back to Flint and Billy. After Flint got over his breakdown of losing the map, him and Billy began to walk around the jungle.//

Bones: uhh, let's take this direction..? *Points to a path*

Flint: we already walked through there...

Bones: Oh, um, then how about through here-

Flint, facepalms: we already walked through there too... ten minutes ago.. WE'VE BEEN WALKING IN CIRCLES FOR FUCK SAKE!

Bones: um... how about we try to walk back and retrace out steps?

Flint, let's out a long sigh: ... Fine.

//The two walk back in order to retrace their steps. Behind a bush they saw, Islay and Baozhai. Who were still tied up together.//

Baozhai: I'm telling you, if I was captain I'd be great at it!

Islay: if you were captain, the ship would immediately blow up from your incompetence.

Baozhai: Hey at least I'm the one who memorized the map! That has to count for something when it comes to leadership or captainship..

Islay: Since when do you have photographic memory???

Baozhai: Ever since I could remember ever little detail of me getting "treated" at the mental asylum I was forcefully put in. Like how they'd lock me in a padded room for hours on end in complete darkness and isolation or how they stuck a needle into my eye and into my brain to get the bad spirits out of me.. god it was painful.. haha! Those were the worst times of my life..! :D

Islay:

Islay: Let's just try to get to the treasure in one piece.. and maybe figure out a way out of these ropes.

//Behind the bush, the two clearly heard what they were just talking about. Billy nudged Flint.//

Bones: I've got an idea..

Flint: Let me hear it..

//Baozhai and Islay continued to walk together. It looked like the sun was starting to set. Islay took notice of this.//

Islay: Damnit, night's gonna arrive soon. As if we need any more problems..

Flint, comes out from behind the bushes with Billy: Stop right there!

Islay: Speak of the devil.

Baozhai, gasps: You came back for me! :D

Flint: I'm not here for you, you stupid cow!

Baozhai: yes you are~! I knew you couldn't resist me..

Flint, groans: I swear I'm going to punch you again.

Baozhai: Ooo, sounds hot..

Flint:

Bones:

Islay:

Flint: you know what nevermind... Tell us how to get to the treasure or we'll cut out your tongues!

Baozhai: Oh okay! Make a-

//Islay hits her head with Baozhai's head.//

Baozhai: Hey! Ow...

Islay: Don't tell him anything you idiot! The last time you did that you got us into this mess! Who knows if they'll do it or not!

Baozhai: okay fine

Flint, holds a knife against Baozhai's neck and growls: Talk..

Baozhai: I'd love to but I'm caught between wanting to tell you or possibly being strangled to death by my crewmate..

Flint: I'm going to count to three and if you don't tell me I'm going to kill you and her..

Baozhai:

Flint: One...

Bones: don't you think we should torture it out of them at least?

Flint: two.. *puts the knife and his head closer to her*

Islay: Whatever you do, don't tell him anything Baozhai!

//Baozhai with precious seconds passing by did the only reasonable thing imaginable. She gave Flint a kiss.//

Flint, cutting him off from saying three: *proceeds to gag and quickly step away from her* WHAT THE HELL??

Baozhai: I'm sorry you were getting close to my face and I couldn't help myself~ It was worth it~! Albeit your teeth did kinda cut my lips..

Flint: FUCK THIS *pulls out his flintlock pistol and presses the end against Baozhai's forehead* I'm gonna put a bullet in this cunt's head!

Bones: What about getting to the treasure???

Flint, growls: ... We can figure that out later..

Islay: Hold on now! How about we all get there together..

Flint: What are you talking about?

Islay: I'm saying how about we NOT kill each other until we arrive to the treasure..? You help us get out of these ropes and we lead you guys to the treasure.. then when we get there we can go back to hating each other as normal... That sound like a deal..?

Flint: Why would I trust you.. you could betray us or strand us at any moment when we let you go..

Islay, looks at Baozhai: even if I wanted to, I couldn't because of the simp next to me..

//Flint stared menacingly at Islay. He took out his knife again and held it against Islay's neck. Islay tried moving her head away her from the knife. Instead of slicing her neck open, he swiftly cut the ropes.//

Flint, puts away his gun and his knife: let's get a move on then. The sun is getting low and I'm not planning on carrying the either of you.

Baozhai: ha, I knew you would do that. You care about me too much to ever do such a thing..

Flint: talk one more time and I'm throwing you down a lava pit.

Baozhai:

Baozhai: my lips are sealed..

//The four walk off straight ahead with Baozhai taking lead.//

To be continued...

#sorry if this didn't include your ocs chaosmith2 :((#in the next one I'll make sure to do so!#oc insert #treasure planet #treasure planet au

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crashdevlin · 4 years

Text

Satisfied- Ch. 15

Author’s Note: Happily Ever Eventually Masterlist, Satisfied Masterlist

Summary: Dr. McCaullife tells Y/n to get closure, which leads to confrontations across the board.

Pairing: none

Word Count: 3106

Chapter Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of mental breakdown, mentions of self-harm, mentions of noncon touching, bit of PTSD (it's a syndrome not a disorder😂🤣...in joke from another series),

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My house is fairly small. I don’t need a lot of room. I spent more on the security system than anything, really. It’s a good one...a bajillion cameras running to a computer in my office closet, a doorbell cam going to my phone, a sensor on every door and window. I would love to say that I didn’t have Tom in mind when I bought it, but I was thinking of him more than I was thinking of paps and creepy fans.

He had to stay in Texas due to the probation agreement, so he bought a house, too. A converted barn on the outskirts of Henly...an hour away from my home. Too close. Too close for any sort of comfort...but the ADA assured me that he was going to adhere to the protection order. So, I spent a lot of money on a security system.

When my doorbell went off and I looked at my phone to see Danneel standing on my porch, my stomach twisted. I just got rid of Jay, sent him home from New Orleans to be with his wife and then she shows up on my porch? How’d she even know where I live? *Guess this is my opportunity to get done with her, too.*

I opened the door and bit my lip as I looked at her. She had her hair down and scrunched up in sexy waves. She really is incredibly beautiful. I will never think anything else. “Hey, sweetie,” she greeted, smiling softly. “Can I come in?” I nodded and stepped back, closing the door as she set her purse on my loveseat and turned to me. “This is a cute place. You chose well.”

“Figure I don’t need a lot of space. Just enough for me and the kids on the occasion I get to see them.” I took a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest. “What can I do for you, Danneel?”

“Jay told me about your fight at the con and-”

“That wasn’t a fight,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “That wasn’t even a disagreement.”

“Sweetie,” she started, but I sighed and caught her eyes.

“No. Please, listen.” I took another breath and looked away from her. “I’m not mad. I haven’t wanted to fight. That’s why I didn’t reach out to you after I saw the video. That’s why I shut down...and shutting down wasn’t the best way to deal with it, but still, I never wanted to fight.”

“But isn’t Jay worth fighting for, Y/n?”

That sentence sent rage zipping through my chest, but I took another breath. Calm myself, move forward. “No one is worth that much fighting. Especially if they’re not willing to fight for me. He wanted you back, Dee. I was always the consolation prize.”

“He loves you.”

“I wish that were enough...but it wasn’t enough to keep him from cheating on me.” Her face fell and I could see she wanted to argue the word ‘cheating’ so I kept talking. “You both knew I didn’t want you touching each other while I was gone...and tell me that you honestly didn’t see that I had a lot of regrets after we fucked. Tell me you didn’t know that it was probably never going to happen again...and that’s why you took the opportunity while I was gone.”

She looked down, avoiding my gaze. “Jensen and I-”

“Danneel, it’s okay.” I smiled and swallowed down my residual sadness. “Seriously. You don’t have to feel guilty here, hon. You and Jensen never stopped loving each other. That’s a fact. I just got in the way of what never should have ended in the first place. I’m moving on. I’ll find someone eventually, but for now...you and Jensen should be together. You always should have been.”

“Y/n, you deserve-”

“I deserve to move on,” I snapped, before licking my lips and stepping closer. “You and Jensen need to be together...and I need to be alone for a while. So...don’t feel bad. Don’t apologize. Don’t try to get me to fight...because I’m done fighting.”

She started crying as I hugged her, but I just felt relief. It was done. Finally, there was closure. She’d leave my house and go back to Jensen and everything would be done. A short time later she did just that...and I sat on my couch and wiped my eyes and...did some affirmations and moved forward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Closure on two fronts. That’s good,” Dr. McCauliffe said at my appointment the Monday after.

“Yeah. Now I just need closure with Nate and Tom and maybe I’ll be well-adjusted some day,” I said sarcastically.

“You should,” she encouraged, leaning forward.

“Wait...what?”

“You should have a sit-down with Tom and with Nate. You have grievances. You should air them.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “A sit-down with Tom is almost impossible. There are protections in place to keep that from happening and besides, you...you don’t want me interacting with Tom.”

“Not through text messages from unknown numbers when you’re feeling numb and broken. That was unhealthy. With you like this? Making breakthroughs and getting closure? That can only help.” She tapped her pen against her clipboard and smiled. “I’m sure there’s a way for you to meet with Tom, with protections, and clear the air a bit.”

“Clear the air. What would I even say to him? What would I even...How could I even talk to him without letting my brain go back to…” I rolled my shoulders back and ran my hand across my mouth.

“You talked to Jensen without an issue. You stood your ground twice, under stressful circumstances, and you came out the other side. I feel like you could handle this with grace. And I will be right here to help with any fallout that might occur. Okay?"

It took a lot of cajoling from Dr. McCauliffe, and some from Misha and Kim, but eventually I decided that it might not be the worst idea for my mental health if I got some closure with Nate. If that worked, I might go for closure with Tom...with a bodyguard and some lawyers and a knife in my pocket, just in case.

I flew to Florida and took an Uber to Nate’s house. I had the driver wait, offered a $100 tip, and went up to the door. Jenny answered. I fought down a wave of anger at the sight of her. She used to be a friend. She was Nate’s friend first, a girl he told me was ‘one of the guys’ and not to worry about. I made friends to prove I wasn’t worried. I should have always been worried about Nate.

“It’s not your weekend,” she snapped.

“I’m not here for Nova. I’m here to talk to Nate.”

She scoffed and turned around to look at her husband, who was walking up from the living room. “It’s okay, Jen. I got this,” Nate said, stepping outside and shutting the door. “Sorry, she’s been kinda worried that you might decide you wanna come steal me back ever since she found out you and Jensen broke up.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a homewrecker. That’s her job.”

“Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Don’t talk about my wife like-”

"Your wife cheated on her husband with my husband, ruined two families, and displaced three children all while smiling across the table at me during game nights and pretending she had never sucked your cock. She is as much a liar and a slut as you."

Nate's eyes went huge as I spoke. I really wasn't expecting to explode like that, but years of bubbling anger, I guess.

"What the hell, Y/n? You flew in from Texas to call me and Jenny names?"

"No, I flew in from Texas for closure. My shrink thinks it's a good idea to get the shit I've been holding back off my chest so I came to talk to you. Honestly? Probably never woulda said a word against Jenny if she hadn't answered the door, but she did." I shrugged. "Too late now."

"What could you possibly have left to get off your chest?"

"Do you even realize how poorly you treated me? No, I'm sure you can't be that delusional. Do you even care?" I took a deep breath and looked up into his eyes. Blue just like Tom. *Gotta get a brown-eyed boy next time. Haven't been fucked over by a brown-eyed guy yet. No. No guys. No dating. Just me.* "I loved you with everything in me, Nate. You were everything to me, and you used that, used me to make yourself feel better, to make your friends laugh at the stupid fat girl who didn't realize you were fucking around. I know Jenny wasn't the first. And I bet she wasn't the last, either. Bet you got a few skeletons hiding from her too. Because you don't change. You're the same exact piece of shit you were when we were in high school...and Jenny knows that or she wouldn't be so scared that you would run away with your ex-wife. Not that I'd ever take you."

He scoffed in anger and I laughed. "I've had literal models in my bed, Nate. How delusionally narcissistic do you have to be to think that I would take a pencil-dicked, scruffy-faced, beatnik-looking motherfucker like you back?" Well, that was almost Tara-levels of confidence. When did that happen? "Look, I know you never loved me. I'm not delusional anymore, but I keep hoping that you'll love Nova...she's part of you, that should play right into your narcissism, but the way you use her like a tool, like a weapon against me...I don't think you love her any more than you loved me. And if you damage her, I will bury you."

He scoffed again. "You couldn't even win custody cause you're so unstable. What do you think you could do?"

"I didn't say I'd bury you in court." My voice was calm, with an edge of threatening. "You damage my daughter and I will do whatever I feel appropriate to pay you back." I was walking away when a final burn hit my mind. “It must be heartbreaking to you that the only thing you have the least in common with Jensen is that neither of you could keep it in your fucking pants.”

Dr. McCauliffe was right. Getting everything off my chest was freeing. I hadn’t even gotten on the plane back to Texas before I was on the phone with my lawyer. “What do you mean, you want a meeting with him? The man tried to rape you! There’s a restraining order on him and a-”

“I have to talk to him. That’s all. Lawyers present, a bodyguard or a cop in the room. I have things I need to say...Things I need to tell him so that I can get on with my life. Please, make it happen.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it’s my bad idea, so...make it happen.”

And he did. He got me in a meeting with Tom at my lawyer’s office, a security guard and both lawyers present.

I wore jeans, a baggy long-sleeved blouse, and I had my hair back and out of my face. I wasn’t there to look pretty. I was there for that closure.

My heart started pounding when I walked into that room and saw him. Obviously I wasn’t even close to over what he did...which is why I needed to talk to him about it. I sat across from him at a table in a conference room and my mind couldn’t help but replay being pressed into a long wooden table in the courthouse conference room, with a silk tie shoved in my mouth and my ass stinging. I took a deep breath and sighed it out as I sat down.

“I’d like to point out that I told my client that this was a bad idea,” Tom’s lawyer said.

“I told my client the same. She insisted,” my lawyer responded.

Tom smiled and my breath hitched. I was suddenly struck with the thought that I wasn’t ready for this. Maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe I should just walk out...but I’d already come so far. I averted my eyes from his, looked at the table instead. “My psychiatrist thought this would be a good thing for me. That I deserved closure.”

“Closure? You mean to say you’re completely done with me and want nothing to do with me in the future?” Tom’s voice made me shiver. “I have heard that one before...and you always text back eventually...Dear.”

“Closure means asking you ‘why’ and telling you all the ways you’ve hurt me, getting everything off of my chest so that I don’t have any regrets of things I should have said...and don’t call me that.”

“Why? Why what?” Tom asked and I looked up. Did he really not know?

“Why...our relationship, Tom. Our whole relationship and the way you treated me afterward. Why? Why did you treat me like that? Why did you try to own me? Why did you manipulate and hurt me? Why did you tell the world that Maverick was your son when you knew that you couldn’t be his father? Why did you make it seem like I was a cheating whore when you knew I wouldn’t cheat after what Nate did to me? Why did you try to rape me? Why?”

Tom sighed and looked to his lawyer, then back to me. “I’ve never met a woman like you, Y/n. You create these feelings in me that...I tamp them down with other women. You make me want to possess you. I knew the moment I saw you that I had to have you...completely. You’re the only woman I’ve ever possessed that way...and you did like it for a while, I know you did. I remember the way your body reacted-”

“That was in bed! You tried to take over my whole life and when I left you, you tried to ruin my life.”

“I wasn’t trying to ruin your life, I was trying to get you to interact with me. I was certain that you’d remember how you loved me if I got you away from Jensen. And look what happened. He left you, you started talking to me again.”

“He didn’t leave me. He cheated and I didn’t let him talk to me after,” I argued. I licked my lips and looked away, shaking my head. “I started talking to you because I was in a horrible place and I didn’t think I had anyone in my corner. I hated who I was and I thought it was a good idea to talk to someone who saw who I could be. It was a bad decision, just like the decision to date you in the first place.”

“But you were willing to talk to me when you were without Jensen’s influence. That’s all I was trying to do with the lawsuit. Of course I knew Maxwell isn’t my son but-”

“His name’s Maverick,” I snapped. “You never called Nova by her middle name, why do you insist on calling Mav by his?”

He shrugged. “I know that Jensen named that child. He’s an attractive young boy, deserves an appropriate name.”

“What about the rape?” I asked. “If all you wanted was to get me away from Jensen, why would you-”

“I saw you enter that room, there were several twitter accounts posting pics from inside the courthouse and...you were alone. For the first time in months, you were alone, so I went in to talk to you without Jensen or Jared running interference. I just wanted to talk, but...you got so defensive as soon as I walked in...and you called me a psycho.” He looked down and took a deep breath. “I just wanted you to remember that you loved me. That I could give you the things that you needed. Jensen never dominated you, never made you submit. I just wanted you to remember how you liked that...how you liked me. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted you back."

I shook my head. "That wasn't the way to go about it, Tom. None of this was the way to go about it. I understand going a bit crazy over someone, but you...you went too far. Way too far. I wanted to love you, but you wanted to own me, and that's not the same." I stood and gave him a tight smile. "I'm glad you agreed to meet with me so that we could talk. Because I'm gonna say, with absolutely no doubt or question, I am done, Tom, and it's not because I'm with Jensen because I'm not. It's because you don't love me and you need to move on...because I don't love you. Okay?"

I started to walk out but I stopped at the door when something in the security guard's hand caught my attention. "You should get help, too, Tom. Therapy has done wonders for me. Have a good life."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You should have recorded it!" Misha exclaimed when I told him about the meeting. "You should have recorded the whole thing! Then you could have released it to the media! Everyone would have seen him for the monster he is!"

"And then I would get in trouble for recording him without his consent and it would have blown back on me." I shook my head and chuckled, taking a drink of my Old Fashioned. "That security guard is gonna buy a brand new car when he sells the video he took, though."

Blue eyes popped wide on my laptop screen as he grinned in surprise. The blue eyes I can trust. "The security guard was videoing?"

"Yeah. I noticed on my way out, so I added a little flare at the end. I high-roaded and told him to get help. Therapy has done wonders for me."

"So video is gonna hit of him admitting to all the horrible things he did?"

"Yup. I don't know...kinda feels like it's finally over, ya know? I finally feel like I can move on."

"I'm glad. I'm happy that you can finally move forward and be happy too."

I hummed and nodded. “Happy sounds like a good goal. For now, we’ll call it ‘content’ or...Satisfied.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stay tuned for Another Second Chance, coming soon!

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you Hunter Tags - @atc74 @sandlee44 @spnbaby-67 @kalesrebellion @tumbler-tidbits @hoboal87 @stoneyggirl @kbl1313 @cookiechipdough @mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld @pretty-fortune @screechingartisancashbailiff @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits @imperiusimpala

Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm @deanmonandnegansbitch @jadesupernatural @stoneyggirl @4fareader @squirrelnotsam @lyarr24 @akshi8278 @pretty-fortune @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits

Happily Ever Eventually Tags- @deanmonandnegansbitch @jamielea81

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #reader-insert #spn rpf #Jensen x You #mention of attempted noncon

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Text

How Luscious Lies

Fandom: Dickinson Rating: T Word Count: 1331

Summary: Lavinia interrupts Emily's introspection for a late-night chat. Contemplating infidelity? #relatable

“Emily,” a voice hissed.

Emily’s head swirled with the smoke and fumes that were the toxic effluence of her creative efforts. The spirits sought her; her talent reached for her from an intangible plane, smothering and harassing her higher senses while resuscitating her passion. The words moved within her with the very abandon of a lover. Her prostration continued.

“Let the voices come,” she murmured, eyes roving the ceiling. “I am so, so close to becoming truly lost.”

Lost in the way Mr. Olmsted had meant. Lost within the process, not separated from it as though blocked by taxus baccata. The poisonous hedges of her mind had been razed—paths cleared, branches stripped—and though the clouds were thick and heady, the ground was fertile. Her poems were ready to be sown and ripe to be plucked in the same instant. Clearly, this was why her fantasy of Mr. Bowles had been so real, such a convincing fever directed her brain.

“Emily.”

“I’m ready,” she swore. “I have paper here in my hand.”

Her heart raced.

“Hey, Emily.”

Emily deflated. With her head hanging over the edge of the bed, she watched her sister enter the room upside-down.

“You still awake? I saw the light of your candle under the door,” Lavinia explained.

“Yes,” Emily grunted. “Why are you still up? I thought you would’ve gone to bed hours ago, since you couldn’t go to Sue’s salon.”

“Oh, um, yeah, I did go to bed…”

“Midnight snack?” Emily guessed.

“You know it,” Lavinia enthused, then sobered, stepping into the bedroom and shutting the door behind her. “I mean, no, I just wanted to hear about the party.”

Emily clambered upright to sit on the bed with her legs tucked to the side. About to answer, she paused and narrowed her eyes at her sister.

“You don’t normally sleep with your hair covered.”

Lavinia whisked the lace from the top of her head and hid it behind her back, clutched in both hands.

“Whoops, no, I still don’t,” she said. “But hey, does it make you think of a Spanish mantilla at all? Like, maybe if I got some black lace instead?”

“A mantilla?”

“Yeah, they’re totally having a moment right now. I think Jane has something to do with it. Rich widows with their dead husbands and all the black lace they want. Lucky,” Lavinia grumbled, plopping down on the edge of the bed next to Emily and smoothing her own white lace in her lap. She shrugged. “Anyway, how was Sue’s thing?”

“Not… what I was expecting. It’s left me with a lot to think about.” She offered her sister a sheepish smile.

“Like what?” Lavinia dropped her elbows to her knees and cupped her face in her hands, waiting.

Emily sighed, contemplating how much to reveal. How no one takes me seriously as a poet, she considered saying. How, even if I do succeed, many people seem likely to attribute that success to a presumed intimate attachment to Mr. Bowles.

“Infidelity,” she found herself saying. She touched her chest, then slid her hand to her throat, testing the solidity of her recent illusion. The way her phantom editor had removed her necklace hung on her more palpably than the necklace itself had.

“Totally,” her sister gushed. “That was on my mind tonight too.”

Emily smiled at the chance of being understood.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Ship was reading The Scarlet Letter and one thing just led to another and I found myself mounting… um…” Lavinia’s voice choked off and Emily frowned at her, concerned, but her sister resumed with a reassuring flutter of her hand. “I found myself mounting an analysis of the text. You know, to really get into Hester Prynne’s character.”

“That sounds… stimulating,” Emily decided. Maybe she should’ve embraced the Dickinson way and stayed in with her family tonight. True, she may have had regrets about missing her chance to be shown off as a soon-to-be-published poet, but it certainly would have made for a less complicated evening. “For something that takes two people, affairs are so one-sided. The aftermath, I mean.”

“That is so true. They always blame the woman and it’s like, nobody even mentions if she had a good time. It’s just about scorning her and shaming her and treating her like a freak just because she wanted something.”

“Exactly! Aren’t women allowed to want anything?!” Emily exclaimed.

“Not in books written by men.”

“Men don’t want to accept that love can make women interesting. It inspires us. Sometimes it’s all we have,” she finished softly, thinking of all the poems she’d had Maggie carry over to the Evergreens, all addressed to Sue, some blatantly about Sue, if they found their way into the hands of an attentive reader.

“Or the not being in love,” Lavinia muttered, drawing Emily’s attention from memories full of the sound of paper squares shuffling together in a basket.

“What was that?”

“Not being in love,” her sister said. She raised her chin defiantly. “A woman might not even want to fall in love. Can’t she just have fun and see where things go? Maybe I don’t wanna novels-and-chill like an old married lady. Maybe I just wanna make out a lot and not wake up with a guy in my bed taking up the space that’s reserved for my cat.”

“…Right.”

“And if the guy says he feels used, I think that’s just the misdiagnosis of a woman finally getting something out of the relationship.”

Emily nodded emphatically, boarding her sister’s train of thought at this station. She badly wanted the world to read her words and know that she was the one who had written them. She also wanted to respect Mary Bowles. And yet, with this evening’s fantasizing, Emily had realized how comfortable she was with a fictional alternative. If everyone assumed she was getting into Mr. Bowles’s paper because he had gotten into her bed, what was the harm in indulging? In her mind only, of course, though her heart still beat faster remembering her editor was spending the night at her brother’s house next door.

This might be the only way, ever. To always be someone who loved or lusted and was not taken seriously in return. She had loved Sue before Austin did and would love her all her life. How could that be disloyal? Or her fascination with Mr. Bowles, spurred on by the excitement of seeing her words printed in The Springfield Republican? Surely that demonstrated a fervent devotion to her craft? A desire adjacent to the accomplishment of one of her dreams? Real infidelity, Emily thought, could only be enacted against oneself. Anything else was simply… living.

Lavinia flopped onto her back.

“I don’t know how Ship can say he feels used when he literally wants to marry me so I can be his live-in servant.”

“His wife?”

“That’s what I said.”

Emily sighed for herself and her sister. She turned her head to look down at her.

“Do you wanna hear more about the salon?”

“God yes. What did Sue wear? Did anybody try to suck up to you? Were there any famous people there? Have our horrible cousins dug any massive holes around their property? If you tell me one of the guests fell into a hole and I wasn’t there to see that, I may actually die.”

Breathing deeply, Emily set aside her pages and prepared a different recitation. Slowly, she unfolded the event to her sister in words. While Lavinia listened, she sat up to take down Emily’s hair and unfasten the back of her dress. Emily had looked the part for the salon—many people had said as much—but it was just a role, a disguise, not quite an infidelity, though something that had definitely provoked her innermost uncertainties and made her feel watched in every room, at every moment.

Her sister hmmed and awwed and Emily dictated the evening. She told it almost faithfully.

#my writing #Dickinson #Emily Dickinson #Lavinia Dickinson

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nom-central · 4 years

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what’s your favorite trope in vore? write it ♥︎

Anon bless your soul bc I got to write something very self indulgent that only appeals to me, probably. This might be a blend of more than one favorite trope, but hey! I loved writing this! It’s pretty long, so apologies to you guys for that ; ; I love dialogue!

Inkopolis was a bustling hub of culture and activity, filled to the brim with seafolk of all kinds. Nestled in the corner of the plaza was a cafe known as the Coral Reef, which was notably quieter than the area around it. Inside it seemed as though things were slow, with only one cashier behind the counter and a handful of inklings enjoying their snacks. Artemis, the colossal inkling behind the counter, is staring off into space with a rather dreamy expression on his face. Truth be told he was waiting on a certain someone he adored to come in today, and the gentle chime of the door being opened got his attention. In strolled an ink stained inkling, one he knew very well and it caused him to grin. “Well, if it isn’t the one and only~ You look like you’ve been in a fight or two.” The small bobtail squid strides up to the counter, sighing as she tries to wipe ink off herself. “Ugh, hey Artie...ranked was a struggle today. What’s with the look, did you get a raise or something?” He shook his head and stood up to his full height, reaching under the counter and handing her a towel to dry herself off with. “No no Ace, I was just thinking about some things. Thanks for bringing me back to reality, as you tend to do berry blue~” Ace takes the towel and wipes her face, hiding the small blush Art’s baritone voice brought her. He was always a big flirt, but he always laid it on a bit thicker with her. She figured it was just how he was, but she couldn’t help but get blue in the face when he directed them at her. Setting down the towel, she yawns and stares up at the menu. “So, whatcha got today? I’m starved after all that action!” “Well~” He hummed, gesturing to the display case full of treats. “I just finished setting out some of our house specials and a few fruit cheesecakes! I’ve been working on a little secret that may be on the menu as well, buuuut it could use some taste testing to assure its quality!” Ace’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, interested in the new development. “A secret, huh? Mind telling me, your best customer??” She smiled at him, and one to match it slowly grew on Art’s face.

If he can pull this off...he’ll have her right where he wants her.

“Well...it wouldn’t be a secret if I said it during business hours, but you are my best~” He leaned down to whisper it into the much smaller squid’s ear, taking note that she smells deliciously sweet as always. “Red Velvet Cake~ How’s about you come try it for me? You’ve got good taste!” Literally. Or, so he hoped. Ace visibly perked up, that was her favorite! And Artemis made the best cakes, she almost immediately jumped on the offer but a realization gave her pause. That back room...she’s seen a few inklings go back there with him, but only he ever stepped back out. She was suspicious, but the allure of her favorite dessert was a hard one to resist...going back for just one slice shouldn’t hurt. “Alright, you got me...I’ll just have a slice, I wanna get back to turf!” Artemis can hardly contain his delight, he’s been waiting so long for this day! “Ah, so the blue beauty finally joins me for a tasting session...I must say, I’m honored~” He opens the little door that separates the two of them, beckoning for her to come back with him. “Layin’ it on kinda thick there, Artie.” She grumbles as she follows his lead, trying to ignore the blush on her cheeks. He opens the door to the back for her with a wide smile, the light glinting a bit off of his fangs. Curiously and a bit hesitantly, she peers into the room and is met with the sweet scent of things baking. There’s a tray of muffins cooling on the table, along with a covered pan. Is that it? As if he was reading her mind, the orange-hued inkling stepped forward and pulled the cover off, revealing the red dusted cake to her with a mock bow. “Ta-daaa~ A lovely cake for the lovely little lady.” Ace gasps in delight, moving over to get a closer look. “Oh, Artie...that looks so good! Cut me a slice please!” He’s way ahead of her, slicing through the moist cake as she says this and cutting her a sizable piece. “Your wish is my command, sweetness~ Enjoy!” Ace smiles at him and wastes no time digging into the moist cake, humming in delight at its sweet flavor. It doesn’t take long for her to finish it, and she pushes the plate away with a happy sigh. “That was a perfect pre-game snack, thank you so much! This’ll be a big hit with the customers, I guarantee it!” “Thank you for your input, but is it good enough for seconds?” He nudges another slice onto her plate as he says this, it’s slightly bigger than the last. “Well, I don’t want to get sick fighting...after this I’m going to get going, okay?” The cake was eaten so as not to disappoint her large friend, and when she was finished she stood up and prepared to leave, much to Artemis’ dismay. “You’re leaving so soon? Ace my dear, I haven’t seen you all day...why don’t we talk about how you are over a third slice of cake?” Ace stared at him a bit suspiciously, why did he want her to eat so much of it? “Third…? That’s a lot of cake and I’m just one squid, I want to stay in fighting shape!”“Oh darling, every shape of yours is flattering and ready for a fight~ I baked this with love knowing you’d see me today...won’t you eat my gift to you?” She blushed, her tentacles curling up a bit as he mixes a few flirts into his words. “It’s a lot, can’t I just take it home?” Artemis’ stomach growls impatiently, he better move fast...charming her is fun and all, but his cravings are growing stronger by the moment. “I would much rather see those cute cheeks puffed out as you finish it off...come on, it’s taking you on! The great Ace could finish off a cake just as easily as she can wipe a team!” Ace nervously eyes the cake, it was smaller than what he’d normally bake as it was for tasting purposes, but it was still a lot for her. However, it’s at his insistence, and she didn’t want to waste something he made specifically for her… “Alright, fine. You owe me if I can finish this off!” “Oh not to worry, you’ll definitely be rewarded~” He smiles, trying to keep his exterior calm as he watches his plan work beautifully. Ace drills through the cake despite her previous remarks, leaving her with a visibly stuffed stomach that Artemis eyes hungrily. He didn’t want to abuse her competitive spirit but it was worth it, it’s about time for him to eat.... The sound of a chair scraping against the floor pulled the colossal squid from his hungry thoughts, and he watches in surprise as Ace stands up to leave. “Ugh, definitely overate...I think I’m just going to head home, sorry Art.” No, she can’t leave now! He can’t, he won’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers now that he’s so close! As she makes her way to the door he quickly cuts her off, leaning against it and smiling nervously. “W-wait Ace, you can’t go quite yet…" She stares up at him, his immense size over her starting to intimidate her alongside his weird behavior. "A-art, why can't I leave…?" The look in his eyes is ravenous, and as he leans down closer to her she can hear the loud and impatient growls of his stomach. "Ace...I've wanted this for the longest time now, I'm sorry…" He opens his mouth wide, his orange, slimy tongue dragging itself up the side of her face, making it clear exactly where she'll be going. Rattled, Ace digs her hands into his large, soft belly, hoping to get him away from her. “A-ARTEMIS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He’s undeterred, making a shaky and pleased hum as she’s sweeter than he could have possibly imagined. “I’m sorry, I just can’t hold myself back any longer...you’ll be fine, I can promise you that much.” No longer listening to her protests he clamps his mouth down over her head, sealing her in humid darkness and continuing his tasting. Though now he’s mostly driven by hunger he gently strokes her back, trying to relax her so he doesn’t accidentally hurt her. She squirms and struggles as much as she can, tapping into her battle strength even, but it’s moot as Art pulls her further into his mouth and begins swallowing. Her small size relative to him makes eating her simple, with a powerful gulp already pulling her head and chest into his throat and her belly into his maw. He takes his time here, licking all over it and savoring her flavor and its fullness, before standing up and tilting his head back to let gravity do the work for him. Ace’s struggles gave out at this point, and she let peristalsis and the occasional light glurp from the colossal inkling pull her ever deeper to the loud groaning that was his stomach. When she was finally entirely sealed in his throat he sighed, sitting down in a chair and gently rubbing his stomach as she slipped inside it. She curls up without another word, and there’s a beat of silence before Artemis speaks again. “Ace...I’m truly sorry for deceiving you like this, but...I love you. I have for so long, and I wanted you as close to me as possible...you’re safe in there, I would never bring any harm to you. I just...wanted you in my embrace.” She lays still in him, processing his words. All those flirts...he meant them? She wondered if he was telling the truth, and judging by his stomach’s harmless churning and quiet, gentle burbling, he must have meant it. She had always liked him, but didn’t quite know what to say. As if he read her thoughts, he spoke again. “I understand that it’s overwhelming...when I let you out, we can talk more. I just want to hold you for a while, if that’s fine…” She subtly shifts, which is about the best answer she can give. He sighs, settling in to give her a massage. Truth be told, it wasn’t as bad as she thought in here….will he be doing this more if they got together?

She wouldn’t mind the idea of cuddling like this, if so.

#vore fic #soft vore #safe vore #extreme cuddling #halfsize vore #stuffing #splatvore #unwilling vore #kinda but she warms up to it #no this isnt m/f my inksona is nonbinary #i love confessions and stuff through vore like this #and big charming preds #and stuffing in vore #lmk if this needs more tags #sorry vore community i only know how to cater to myself but it WAS a request #Anonymous

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anyu-blue · 3 years

Text

Hey I'm rambling about stuff in my own head again. Trigger warnings apply- specifically those dealing with therapy, dysphoria, self harm, relationships, and stuff like that. :T

I don't really understand it... For quite a while there I was fine. Content even to just let things slide. I think it was because I felt secure where I was (with Lon) and blocked out a lot that doing therapy has brought screaming to the front of my mind... But I could be wrong and I feel confused and conflicted again.

At one point (before Lon) I had settled down when my previous therapist basically gave me permission to call myself androgynous. She told me it was okay- if that's what I felt, then I could use it.... I felt very relieved and much less ruffled. There was still a nag in the back of my head, but it was quiet enough I buried it... For the most part...

Getting with Lon brought quite a few forward and I insisted he understand I am/was not a girl. He also seemed content and sweet and more than accepting... Until he wasn't.. looking back.. Lon said a LOT of weird or off things he either never came through with or downright switched on.. especially near the end. EVERYONE in his family and friend group assumed and pushed the 'girl' thing... And that nag got a little louder..I pushed back (gently) reminding Lon with little things here and there that I wasn't... But still 'she' and overwhelming compliments on my feminity buried me under them. In the end... I know it was driving me crazy (literally) and probably Contributed more to the mess than I understood at the time.

But it also wasn't a push even.. just the assumption.. I believe that because right now my hackles are raised so high every time someone says 'she' to or about me I BRISTLE. I want to yell or (depending on who it is) quietly tell whomever is doing it to stop.. tell them they're wrong... Most aren't doing it maliciously, I know.. it's just what they see. I feel pressured or pushed. It's really weird and extremely uncomfortable. It's confusing too because.. I don't know... I can't see how they don't see me as different than 'girl'... Or heaven forbid 'WOMAN.'

*shudders*

My therapist and I are exploring the feelings around when these things are said to me... And she's proposed doing something about my anger and frustration like squeezing Something or something or just outright accepting it... Basically ANYTHING other than telling people my business... But the problem is, I've told her... I want to BREAK things.. I mean I don't... But I feel the urge to. To hit. To yell. To scream. To cry. To crush. To run. But I don't. In some ways I can't.... Squeezing Something when I'm angry hurts me. My grip is incredibly weak (always has been no matter what I've tried) and everything pops painfully. Or it pinches my skin and hurts... So I've developed a reflex to do the opposite of squeeze or hit things (which certainly hasn't helped the weakness issue lol)... And even if I do try to do those things.... It's never enough. I can't go and go and go like I want to. It just makes me madder. More frustrated. It's never satisfying or as releasing as People tell me it should feel. I just want more. And more and more and more. And in the end I'm usually left a sobbing mess that's completely spent, but still so mad and frustrated... Feeling those feelings even more. Sure I'm tired enough to pass out.. but I wake up.. and everything is still there.. usually coupled with depression because it's STILL THERE... And I couldn't get it out. I don't feel better or lighter or more free.. I feel heavier.. sadder... Worse. I used all that energy and nothing came of it.

And I don't understand!! I really don't. Why I'm never satisfied... Why I've always always been so angry... I was told I was an extremely cruel child.. I remember a little too.. I always wanted to act, but was pushed down.. and even when I did, it never felt good or like it was enough.. I swear I could tear an entire house down by myself with nothing but my own two hands and I STILL would want to do more.

...

And I'm feeling all of these things with gender...

Tevs said to me she thinks I 'want to be a boy because our mother always wanted a boy and [I] always wanted her approval.' ... I can't deny that MAYBE it had an influence on me. MAYBE...

But... I don't WANT that witch's approval anymore. I don't care about her distain either. I don't want her ANYWHERE NEAR my life, it's MINE not hers.. and I'm really pissed off no one can seem to take the damn hint I am 110% DONE with her and anything to do with her. She HAS a son to raise now. And a loving husband who had her adopt him. And good friends and whatever else she has in her life. I am OUT of it. And I want to be out of it forever.

.. it feels demeaning when Tevs says that it's all from that to me.. she's done it more than once, and of course I'm upset by it every time.

... I just want to be me... And every time someone looks at me and tells me I am beautiful.. or pretty.. or a wonderful woman... I just want to cry... To go hide.. I feel so ashamed.

...

Here's the thing.. I AM attractive. I AM beautiful, hot, resilient, kind... Just about everything you'd associate a woman with... I was walking to another area in my workplace just tonight and caught a glimpse of myself as I did so in our big windows... The way I walk. My silhouette. Everything about me... Is envious.

I'm not saying these things because I'm vain.. I'm saying them because if I compare my body and gait and everything to the People alongside me- even the guests I see coming in- I can see it as clearly as everyone else who tells me I'm this pretty thing does... I'm not sickeningly skinny and I'm not fat. I'm not super tall nor short. I'm right in the middle with an ass and legs People tell me they'd kill to have... If I were to wear proper bras, I have a chest they'd love too- not too heavy and not unnoticeably small... But I wear ones that squish my chest so it looks like I have less (and that might be why I have such glaring problems with my ribcage sliding out of place all the time. I'm crushing everything XP).. take a guess as to why I started doing that...

I can't hide my hips... Nor my legs... I've got cute feet too. And hands... So dainty and fine- just enough bone and plump in the right places... It's no wonder I am the envy of my poor (adopted) cousin desperate to be a model and a star.. poor girl. She's beautiful in her own right, but her genes have made it so hard for her to fully dive into her confidence... My dad told me we are rivals and have always been... And my heart breaks for her because I'm not even trying... I want her to succeed!! To be the one in the spotlight!! I want to stay in the background so she can shine... But I always get pulled forward and somehow she's in my shadow (despite being taller than me).. and she can't stand to be near me.. even when I am trying my hardest to let her lead or to say things kindly or in her favor.. I can't seem to win... So I don't really have a relationship with her at all.. Though I really wanted to.

When I don't hide.. when I do 'dress up'... There's so many compliments. If I run into ANYONE from school when I do... *Gags* the compliments, disbelief, and shock... I remember EVERY prom... People not knowing who I was... Or being shocked if they did recognize me straight out. All 4 years... And it made the ostracization worse. My class was AFRAID of me. I was this shy/frumpy (also angry) little thing.. but I still remember being stared at changing after gym whenever there wasn't a stall for me to hide in.. I personally at the time thought it was because I was so ugly/fat they couldn't help themselves... Going through everything in therapy.. I realize it was because I was so skinny under all my baggy clothes.. and really pretty under the acne/hood/ugly glasses. I wasn't bullied just because I was smart/loved to learn... I was a threat and didn't even know it. The envy of my peers. And it's so sad.

I did wish to be like them.. so confident. So able to fake it. To do my makeup and wear cute things and to feel right somehow... But I never did. I tried.. but couldn't stand the clothes.. or the comments about my ass... Or all the things they focused on whenever I came close to succeeding. I couldn't seem to get it right. I just wanted to hide whenever I stood out... It never felt right.

It got to the point I was AFRAID to wear dresses and skirts. Terrified. Everything felt wrong with the world when I did. I felt like I was faking Something. Like I was purposefully being awful... Lying..

I wear some now because I was cheered up by the idea of genderqueer people and some men finding comfort in wearing them and in some ways them becoming more acceptable by all genders... Plus they're reeeally comfy sometimes. And it's nice to just be able to throw on a dress with built in pads during the summer heat wave than to worry about all those damn layers XP ... And I recognize that no one is going to question me or think I'm lying when I wear any... They don't see what I have in my head.

I do recognize that some of this stuff has trauma tied to it... And I'm confused because I don't know where the trauma ends and I (my own genuine thoughts) begin... I was not treated kindly at home- even outright being called ugly in a derogatory manner.. granted I now know those comments mostly came from a pedophile disinterested in me and the pedophile's own manipulation of my mother and her family's opinions (gaslighting and twisting to where I really was the horrible child in all ways) AND I know that I am not neurotypical which caused some other unfortunate treatments in and around my home.

I don't know where to go with it... Or why I'm so viscously against being called a girl or a woman. Why it's setting me off so bad right now. I just know that it is... And for some reason every time I'm alone or not really thinking of it... I don't think of myself as one. Not at all. And when I'm reminded.. I'm often startled by it and confused and need to process the information for a second... Despite 'being' one for all of my life... I've continually had the problem I don't expect what I see in the mirror either.. especially since puberty.

If I could show you what I think/feel most of the time... I think this would be the closest I could get- just make the chest straighter/flatter... It bugged me to no end to add that detail in and still does to this day, but I was going off the model (me lol). I don't feel like Anything... But I want to be something.. and that Something is... Not this. Not this...

But where do I go? What do I do?

I'm terrified of surgeries... I don't want massive scars (not that I mind scars- in fact I LOVE them. They're so cool!! But I don't want people to KNOW you know? Not that. Not Something that is such a private matter... I don't want to believe or go after something for it to be wrong too... And I don't feel I can afford any of it anyway 😞 even if I did want to try or actually found the right one... I would be so depressed to never be able to reach my goal.. and I feel I've held myself back due to that fear too...

I know another reason I haven't tried anything or spoken up or anything is because I have this strange desire to pass on my genetic legacy. It is such a powerful urge I am TERRIFIED of losing the ability... People tell me about adoption all the time as a great option, and it IS a great option for the children... Because I would do ANYTHING for my own... But it's this terrible terrible feeling I wouldn't feel I could claim them as my own and it would leave something still empty inside of me and I wouldn't be as loving because of it and that kills me... It sounds terrible too!!

I would do almost anything to have my own child... When it comes to pain tolerance or body changes I know I would have the hardest time than most if I were to get knocked up.. but I have that thought that it would be worth it because they are MINE.

I've thought about egg donation.. because I feel it would make me feel better to know I succeeded in passing on the line to someone better off and worthy of having children... But I feel I have too many genetic issues or would be an undesirable candidate or I'd feel terrible if the child died and then I didn't succeed...

Lol I think of things oddly... And that makes me think I don't deserve to have children or donate too... Never mind the actual process XP boy... Complicated~

So I've never tried... I am also quite poor and know I would struggle to raise a child. Even just one. And if I were to have twins (as I'm the generation that is supposed to)... I have even more worries... And I don't want a child or children to grow up with the struggles I had or worse than I had like they likely would if I just went for it.

...

I knew I felt more sure when I was with Lon because he apparently wanted/wants kids too... And it was in the plan (Maybe. Maybe not. It's possible he was the one messing with my medication alarms and trying, but also possible he just wanted sex... Because he told me before he left that he thought he was infertile for a long time (and there's some pretty strong evidence to suggest he's got weak swimmers lol but I'm not going to divulge what that stuff is) so it may have been a lie all along... But I didn't know and felt assured and safe with that path at the time)...

*sigh*

Idk what to do... I know I'm messed up about it all.. and I know my knee jerks and feelings... But I don't exactly trust myself or my memory or my reasons... I am only human... And I feel so lost.

I know what I envy... Very much.. and what I would choose if I could... But... Life just doesn't work that way... And science is so stunted it likely won't in my lifetime.

*snort*

I feel the worst thing that my dad ever said to me was when I told him and his wife that I wasn't a girl... I don't remember if I told them I was neither or would prefer to be a guy... But I do remember my dad's response... He told me 'go ahead and you do you, but I want you to know that no matter what, you're always going to be my little girl. I just can't think of you any other way, because you are. You're my little girl.'

And I just... It struck me so badly (obviously, I still think about it)... And made my heart so heavy. I... Understand... To the extent I can... And I don't want to... Lose him because I can't accept that... But.. I feel like it's only pushed me to lose myself... To.. just stay. Take the 'easy' route. To 'accept' it (except we can see how well THAT'S going).

*sigh*

I don't know...

The only thing I do know right now is I have this fantasy about... Going away for a while. More or less disappearing for 5 to 10 years... And coming back... How I want to be/see myself... And seeing what everyone would think...

Tevs thinks I only want it because of trauma. Dad thinks I'm always going to be his daughter. Everyone else is so sure I am a woman...

And maybe they're right... (I mean TECHNICALLY lol I can't exactly argue with that 😂)... And I would be trying to let my 'good looks' and all that 'go to waste'...

...

If I could trade someone... 100%... I would. I'm a pretty/beautiful/attractive looking body... (My face is debatable lol but whatever)... I wonder how come am I not happy about it...

#personal #random #ignore me #life in general #trigger warnings apply

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douxie-casperan · 4 years

Text

[Skrael is @ice-demigod-skrael, Douxie is myself and the following is a direct c/p with a smidge more readable format of our DMs as we might have gone on a bit of a tangent. This has been us the past couple of hours. Enjoy!]

[Heart of Glass AU following Douxie finding out the Order, despite him being under their wing since being forced to flee Camelot, has not given up their plan for using the Genesis Seals to create a reset and brutally fix the balance. Needless to say it did not go down well.]

Douxie: “Were you hoping I'd take out Merlin for you? Was that it?"

Skrael: "We only ever wanted to ensure your safety."

Douxie: “By lying to me, you know exactly what he did before I was left with a literal disability for life?”

Skrael: "Your mind needed only to think on healing, Hisirdoux; you did not need to worry about something such as this!"

Douxie: “Case you missed it somehow, I still live here! It's not a balance if you wipe everyone out that's a reset! You two were telling me I was doing good helping out in the small ways I could without anybody realising who it was and I'm just supposed to just say alright jobs done time to get in line and get wiped out with everyone else because in the end the best beings are only as valuable as the worst?“

Skrael: "N-...no. No. You were doing good. You were helping the balance! It was good work- but fixing it entirely is not your job, Hisirdoux- it is mine. Let us do our own work, Hisirdoux. Please. You do not need to concern yourself with it! We were born for this role; we will not push it off on someone we care about! Because we do care about you, Hisirdoux; we never wanted to see you hurt! You were never going to get wiped out, Hisirdoux; you were always safe with us. You were always safe with us. I swear it."

Douxie: “What kind of person is able to easily pick favourites and say this person isn't worth it? You could hate my girlfriend, oh that makes her "bad" now wouldn't it? Every single life out there has potential to do good things and many of them actually do and don't kick everything aside to watch it burn because they have the choice and last time I checked there was one person who deliberately set things out of kilter long after he stole from you, you're practically saying his sins belong to everyone for the virtue of existing since then! I could have easily been one of them, how many people like me are out there that are just going to be snapped out of existence but because they're a number and not real enough to matter?” Douxie: “Plus... She's going to feel them all gone like a light switch, even if you don't give a damn about anyone else does she deserve that too?”

Skrael: "Hisirdoux, please-- if there were another way, we would take it! We can save whomever you want us to save, Hisirdoux; it is not all or nothing. Your girlfriend can be spared. But, you must understand; magic will be lost if the balance tips any further toward humans. We need to cull them before you and all magical creatures suffer something more permanent than imprisonment, or being beaten back into the shadows. There are fates worse than death, Hisirdoux, and I don't think you want to experience them."

Douxie: “They said culls about us too remember? All for the greater good, just a few sacrifices and spare the lot, send them forth and you'll go free.” Douxie: “You sound like he did.”

Skrael, as if he's been slapped: "Wh-...I am nothing like him Hisirdoux- I would never harm you the way he did. Please, see that. He was... cruel, and he used you, Hisirdoux. I kept you safe; I protected you. I didn't force the weight of the world on your shoulders- you were a boy! A young boy! You never should have had so much pressed upon you! I was only ensuring that you wouldn't have to feel that again! You do not deserve what happened to you. Not again. I will not take part in doing that to you, not like he did."

Douxie: “Then what makes anybody else deserving of it? Because you said yourself I didn't and yet it happened anyway getting spared to be thrown under the next and he lied about what was actually going on too. You've had time, just like he did, you said nothing, just like he did.”

Skrael: "It was not your responsibility! You didn't need to know!"

Douxie: “Yeah heard that before too.” Douxie: “So you gonna go full circle and take something else as well? I mean it's such a similar plot line already and broken my trust so why not take away something else I can’t get back, yeah? I'm sure you can think of something.”

Skrael, once again recoiling: "I...I would never, Hisirdoux. I told you this. I would never. You know this... right?" [A hand, outstretched, reaching for Hisirdoux, his boy, his son] "You... You are safe, here. I will never hurt you. I will never take from you."

Douxie: “More than you already have, you mean? For whatever little it's worth, I never have told anyone. Guess I was the better one on keeping promises... It's the least I could do for everything you've done for me but this? I can't pretend it's okay, I can't do what he did.”

Skrael: "Hisirdoux please... Don't do this-"

Douxie: “Do you think I WANT to?! I wasn’t the one who just threw everything back in my face while knowing, knowing what I'd already been through and knew how I felt about it! A well lived lie is still a lie, I just stupidly thought you were better than that.”

Skrael: "...I-... I am. Nothing I ever- my love for you was not a lie, Hisirdoux. It wasn't. You can- I can swear it, on my own life, my own soul, my own arcana, Hisirdoux. You are my son. My love for you has never been, and will never be a lie."

Douxie: “And yet didn't stop you lying to me did it? You can’t pull a greater good on me I've heard it all before. Different century and it's the same garbage.” Douxie: “I'm tired.”

Skrael: "Just... Let me make this right, Hisirdoux. Please. "You can rest, here, Hisirdoux. You can rest, now. And in the morning, we can make it right. I can make it right."

Douxie: “But you won't because if 900 years didn't change your mind why would it now? Like I'm this close to breaking my no swearing rule here if you can't tell.”

Skrael: "Then do it. Swear at me. Do it. Let me feel your hurt; let me have it, Hisirdoux. And when you have said what you wanted to say, I will do anything you tell me to do, anything that will make this better."

Douxie: “Is what would even slightly do at least something not sinking in?” Douxie: “As much as I hate that old man he had the same thing about only my way works, you can chuck anybody aside as long as the intended goal works. You're basically different sides of the same coin happy to damn anybody who doesn't fit what you want and lo and behold in both cases it's me having to call it out for what it is!”

Skrael: "Hisirdoux, I can't- I wish there was another way. You must believe me; how badly I wish something else was available to us, but we have tried everything. Nothing will save magic but the erasure of some, even just some humans. They will be the bad ones, Hisirdoux; we can ensure it. We can ensure that it is those who hurt you, who hurt magic. We can make it so that those who go are the ones who deserve to go. Even you must admit that there are irredeemable humans who walk this earth! You, of all people, must know that!"

Douxie: “Are you seriously trying to play that card on me? That doesn't mean I want to play God with their lives, I don't get to decide who deserves what happens to them, nobody does. The only way you can seriously make things worse if you randomly came out with the fact you had the King squirreled away for a rainy day or something equally ridiculous because that's how bad you sound right now! I don't care if it's the age difference perspective or whatever the heck it is but it doesn’t change the fact it's not right! And I'm tired of being constantly lied to, I genuinely thought here was better but knowing that it mattered but only as long as it didn't interfere with culling like the humans, the magical, everything like nameless cattle.” Douxie: “I... I just, I've had enough. I'm genuinely willing to give you guys a chance to realise that making things worse won't make things better, but I can't stand here and watch with the vain hope you will. I really wanted you to be better but everything feels tainted.”

Skrael, whispering, hoarse: "Please... Please, no. Not you, too. Hisirdoux... Please."

Douxie: “...I don't know where she is, if you're wondering, I really don't. I've tried a few times but I've never had any luck and she never told me her reasoning either but I think I can guess what it was but then, knew about that too, huh? I really don't want to but if I stay here - it's, it's not you two I'm worried about it's me. I did something stupid before and look what my grand prize was? But then it's all anybody sees me as isn't it, just a stupid kid who doesn’t know any better and hey maybe they're right! I don't care, I'm just tired of those claiming they know best and think it's better to treat me like an idiot and expect me to be fine with it because I only matter what I matter otherwise I should be in a corner somewhere with my mouth shut where nobody will notice.” Douxie: “You can do everything right and still lose, that's the saying isn't it? It's all I ever do, at least give me this one decency and try not to stop me even if you're not willing to give me anything else.”

Skrael: "...is there nothing I can do to make you stay...?" Skrael: "No words I could say to make things alright again?" Skrael: "...Is there nothing left for you here? Truly?"

Douxie: “Was I right about Nari? You don't have to answer if you don't want to.”

Skrael: Mercy, even now? "...you are."

Douxie: “Might be something worth thinking about... I'm gonna miss everything but I guess it started with just Archie and me with everything out to get us may as well return to our roots. It won't be happy and it'll be an outright miracle if I don't breakdown in the next few hours but at least he’s never tried pretending to be anything other than what he is and right now that's what I want more than anything. I hope the two of you make the most of the second chance, I've got that really bad habit of trying to do the right thing in the end and I'd think I'd rather be forced to spend a day in a room with him where I wasn’t allowed to do anything than have it come to that.” Douxie: “Take care of yourselves, alright? You might have lied about something as big as this but I never did, I cared too much to try.”

Skrael: "Hisirdoux, ah... One last, if I may- one last thing. I will never forgive myself if you do not hear it one last time. I cannot stop you leaving, but perhaps... Though the circumstances are... Less than ideal... Perhaps you were never meant to remain with us forever. A son is, often, meant to eventually overtake his father. We may not see eye to eye on this topic, but know that no matter what... Nothing will ever shake this fact from truth: "I have always been, and will never not be, so, so proud of you. You are going to do great things, Hisirdoux. Even if I must see them from the other side of history."

Douxie: “....” Some asshole who probably does not deserve it whatsoever is gonna get a damn hug because everything hurts and he doesn't want to break down crying because he was already struggling but after that Douxie: “Guess I did something right, huh?”

Skrael cupped his jawline, staring him in the eyes: "Of course you did. You always have. I never doubted you once."

Douxie snorts: “Doubt it with how much got blown up in the early days, partial ambidexterity doesn't count for much when you're down a hand.”

Skrael has a smile cannot hide pained eyes. But he smiles nonetheless: "Even then, I did not. Believe what you will, Hisirdoux, but this, I would not ever lie to you about. We cared for you from the moment you crossed our threshold, and you will be cared for even as you pass back over it, now. Forgive an old, ancient heart for asking, but, do you have everything you need, as you move on from here? Is there anything-- anything at all-- I can do for you, this one last time."

Douxie: “Are you seriously trying to dad-mode me right now?”

Skrael, smiling: "...old habits."

Douxie: “Just think you won't have to keep explaining about human food cluttering the place, be a novelty after this long. But I think you're forgetting how used to being on the road we are, I'll blitz the apartment and that'll be it. All traces gone.”

Skrael: I'll miss it... He does not say and his smile fades "Yes. I suspect you will be very good at... evading us. If you- if you wish, however... We will not look." It breaks his heart to say it, but he means it. "We will let you live your own life. How could we possibly begrudge you that?"

Douxie: “If you do actually get it into your heads it's a bad idea, you might have better luck, just saying. I'm only good at it because I've had a lot of practice from standing out too much. Customers can have redemption arcs, don't see why nobody can when there's still a chance to do the right thing.”

Skrael looks serious as the grave: "...I cannot promise that, Hisirdoux." Something like regret does color his voice, however.

Douxie: “No, but don't want you assuming I think otherwise, I might get called naive about it but I don't care. My truth is what it is.”

Skrael: "...I know." Another soft, proud smile, though like before, his eyes are untouched by it, reflecting only sadness. "It is one of the many, many, incredible things about you." He floats up, and places a gentle kiss in the boy's hair, holding him close for one moment more. And then he releases, and turns his back, unable to hide now the frost that has stuck to his eyelashes. "Now... Get going. Before you stay forever." It is an attempt at a joke. It does not land, he thinks.

Douxie for just a moment looks reluctant but does nod and goes to leave before a pause: “Tell them the truth, all of it. If anybody figures out what you're planning if you do still want to go through with it, it won't be from me... But the good ones when they do won't even think of second chances. Not everyone has the luck of an ill-deserving old man.”

Skrael turns, showing him his sincerity, and says, "...That much I can swear. Honesty about the plan... To those who guess, or those who ask. I can swear it. On my arcana, I do swear it." He says, and the words are not delivered lightly. There is a flash of blue in his chest, and as it fades, he turns his head away, staring at the floor. The one image he does not want, cannot force himself to see, is that of Hisirdoux properly leaving.

There is the sound of footsteps leaving and regardless of if it's seen or not a salute is still given as is tradition with send offs and him with the added bonus is he's struggling he really is. Douxie: “Thank you for being my second chance, might have been an even weirder family than my first? Second? One but, I don't think I could have had one better and I wouldn't even be able to say this right now if none of you had.”

#Heart of Glass

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years

Text

34. Ivory

Previous Trigger Warnings for mentions of underage/revenge porn, mentions of eating disorder Word Count: 8388

Between Grace making that post of her rapping along to Captain Hook, her saying "aye aye" to Simon in comments, and this photo of Simon's D print in the gray sweatpants, I'm starting to think he's packing a curve 👀

Simon Laurent "liked"

Commenter: He is! Did you never see the old sex tape?

Poster: The WHAT? No… But, wait… I thought that they dated in school. You mean like something that happened after that?

Commenter: They were in school, but it was online for the longest time before she snitched, so I’m sure somebody still has it out there…

Poster: That’s gross. I’m not that desperate to see it that I wanna look at some kids doing it. No thank you.

Simon Laurent “liked”

Commenter is blocked by Simon.

Grace was in the grocery store with her mother and brother, and Zasha, a white samoyed puppy that Mrs. Monroe had purchased from a breeder… to potentially train to be in competitions, and Zasha’s handler. Why did Mrs. Monroe bring Zasha into the store, just to have someone else hold her? For the same reason that the nanny was also there, tending to Montanus. “Because, that is literally what I pay them to do.” But… we’re at the grocery store and didn’t even have to BRING them! Grace didn’t argue.

However, she did wonder if she was suffering from some type of weird mid life crisis, or just a rich, bored woman whose husband was working more and more all of the time, despite supposedly getting closer to retirement. Then, she wondered if they weren’t doing so well. But, she kept those wonders to herself, as it would frighten her to know whatever the truth was if it was anything other than her mother did whatever she wanted because she could afford to.

Plus, she wanted to get out of the house, and apparently that had been reduced to tagging along with Grace at the grocery store, in case she needed help. “You’re almost 6 months, correct? How has it been? Online, one would swear that you’re Diahanne Caroll in her prime. You’ve rarely broken a sweat. Is that for your fans?”

Grace shook her head and read the label of something before putting it into her cart, “I haven’t had any problems, except for eating way more than I used to and getting gas, but those calcium chews usually help with that and I bounce right back. You know, I’ve always taken really great care of myself, think things through and pay top dollar for the finest self care. I guess that the baby is pleased with their temporary temple.” She smiled at her mom and noticed the woman looked leery. “I know… you had a very rough pregnancy with me. Believe me, I remember this fact, but I haven’t been having that experience, personally. In fact… Did you know that I’ve gained THOUSANDS of new followers since they’ve seen that I was pregnant. Pregnant people have been asking me what I use for this and for that and I’ve been plugging my brand, since we’ve got the pregnancy line now. It’s been sensational. I’ve had a blast!”

Grace had been working on a blog about her pregnancy, which she began with a video addressing all of the questions to all of the people who were not her.

“Hey, Those That Are Graced!” She’d cheered into the camera, “Happy New Year! I know that I’ve been unavailable to reach out too, and believe me, I do miss interacting with fans and followers, but I am currently not working on my career, to focus on other things in my life. Just to touch base with everyone, I feel like we’ve had this discussion before and those of you who actually respect me would definitely not need it repeated, but there have been so many new faces of possibly unfamiliar followers that I am revisiting notes that I have in all of my bios…

First, my professional life is one thing, my private life is another. I extend myself professionally, and over the past few months, even though I have not actually been working, I’ve still been spending time providing everyone with content. Please do not send messages, comments, or questions for me to any of my friends, and especially not to my family members, Hazel in particular. She is 12 and shouldn’t have adults bothering her for information that not only isn’t her concern, but isn’t your concern. She wants to be able to enjoy the limited hours of screen time that she’s allowed. That becomes difficult for her when people are asking her hundreds of questions that literally are related to her mother’s sex life.

Second, my professional life is offered at my discretion, as well. Whenever there is product that I think you should try, I will announce it. If I’m not familiar with a product or no arrangements have been made for me to try a product or I’m unaware of a product… my comments is not the place for said product. That is including everything from your all natural care supplies, book recommendations, your demos, your dance videos… Like… I LOVE receiving those things, but whenever I open my comments back up, that is not where those things go.

I have links for email addresses for avenues of business, entertainment, etc on my website, and if nothing else, my website is featured on every form of social media that I have. I am the person who goes through those emails. I am NOT the person who checks my social media messages, so you will never get a response from me through those and run the risk of me not seeing something if you send it there instead.

Third, my spaces have boundaries and moderators to enforce those boundaries. Whenever you’ve been allowed to be a guest in any of my spaces or my child’s spaces, you treat that shit like Afropunk - “No sexism, no racism, no ableism, no homophobia, no fatphobia, no transphobia, no hatefulness.” And then, since I’m not Afropunk and I have even greater needs, and can’t believe I have to say this much else: No pedophilia, no inappropriate interactions with a minor, no incestuous ideation, and no nudity. My moderators are quick, but not perfect. Your fellow guests and neighbors in my spaces should never have to see jokes about my mother and I engaged in sexual acts together, or worse, my UNDERAGE daughter, and no - Hazel and I posting a dance video is not an invitation for someone to make comments that because she might be fluid in her movements that it is sexually suggestive and if ever we find one of those headass posts where you put a photo of my beautiful daughter up, say something obscene or rude or ask, “Thoughts?” Simon finds out your IP address, sometimes more than that and he doxxes your ass. Ask around. If threats of violence or suggestions of harm are given… he might show up at your house and I don’t know what to even tell you about that one, because I’m not at liberty to say, according to the lawyers.”

She smiled, relaxed, unclenched her teeth that she realized had been clenched since she began her greater needs.

“Fourth, leave Hazel alone. She isn’t going to add you, because she is not allowed to add adults that she does not know. If you follow her public figure pages, those are for her poetry, her brand, her rapping, her artwork, her theater program, and whatever announcements she wants to share with her fans about her personal life, which is usually vague and innocent. If Hazel posts that she had a great time at the premiere of some movie, that is not the place to ask her personal questions. The place to ask her personal questions is nowhere! We don’t have a space created for strangers to ask her personal questions. She sometimes will be allowed to grant an interview, in which she will answer a professional about appropriate questions that have been approved.

Fifth, shut up about Simon! Shut up about Simon! I swear to you… In the past few years that Simon and I have been in communication and the ones that we’ve been in close communication, I KNOW that you realize that we are communicating, but that falls under my private life, which I have not created a space in the public for.

Now… you may speak with Simon about whatever things he speaks about in his private life, I can’t control that, but what I can control and do control is what he will or won’t say about me, even in HIS space. Yes. I got it like that, and what will happen, is Simon will be seeing this, and he is very good at remembering details and he will memorize everything that I’ve said here and he will respect that and enforce it, even in HIS space.

Which leads me to my last thing… There’s a lot of Esmoroth fanfolk in my spaces now and you all act a certain way in your little Esmoroth corner of the Internet… but in here, in Grace’s space, you better act like you’ve been tossed to the feet of the Idol Princess when her pheromones are igniting the internal flame of servitude. Because, we stan the Idol Princess in this space, and you’d better act right.”

After the release of the 3rd book and return of the Idol Princess aka the Future Queen, several fans were disappointed and had called Simon out for “pandering.” But, several MORE fans came around. He was competing for top spots with the YA novel greats after the 3rd book. But… that also meant more fans to be in Grace’s business.

Her New Year’s announcement remained pinned at the top of her page and the next post was text, “Oh, yeah. Last but not least, you may have noticed that I’m pregnant. I’ll be featuring some of my favorite findings on my maternity journey here, so please stay tuned if you’re pregnant, expecting, or planning, for what I think and hope will be some helpful tips for your journey!”

Most of the Esmoroth fandom didn’t like her very much, but they also “just couldn’t stay away. Aside from the Grace in Maternity blog, she still didn’t have social media open for commentary, though she did sometimes pass through Simon’s or Hazel’s comments and engaged a little bit with them. She pinned the video to other sites and then just didn’t really visit them again much.

“I could barely walk whenever I was six months pregnant. I had the finest of everything, too,” Mrs. Monroe broke into her thoughts. “Then again, I had what they now call an eating disorder for several years. I… wasn’t completely… well whenever you were announced…” she looked guilty, like she did whenever she faced her own failures as a mother. “We had to get a 24 hour nurse to keep me… healthy. By seven months, I could hardly get out of bed.”

Grace furrowed her eyebrows, “Mom… you’ve never told me that you had an eating disorder. Did you ever get help for it?”

“Help? Oh… like… whenever I had to be rushed to the hospital multiple times? Yes. I got help.”

“MOM… Did you ever heal?”

“Wait, are you asking me if I have disordered eating now? Heaven’s no, Grace. I was trapped with your father by the time you were born. I eventually realized that I had to be more… alive and well than I did flawless. We hired a nutritionist and personal chef.”

“Mom… a lot of people need psychological help for something like that.”

“And I come across to you as ‘a lot of people’? Hmph. It’s pathetic enough that I allowed myself to be so weak. I wasn’t going to beg someone to give me the strength I needed.”

“That’s not what it’s like at all…” Grace cupped her mother’s face and said, “There may be things that people need to help you with, Mom. That doesn’t make you weak or whatever else you’ve convinced yourself of. It didn’t make me weak when I needed to get help. It doesn’t make Hazel weak when she needs help…”

Mrs. Monroe waved Grace’s hands off of her face, “As long as you’re fine, have no other concerns.”

“Mom…”

“Were you done with the shopping?” Grace sighed and continued moving.

Simon was pacing, clenching and unclenching his fists. Several of the message boards, every one of his social media platforms, and even at least one of Hazel’s. He’d taken her devices away, but now she was angry and he certainly couldn’t find the words to explain beyond, “You can’t be online right now.” She was scribbling aggressively in one of her paper journals, and fuming. They both were fuming from different but related reasons.

Grace came in with her little shopping entourage and Hazel rushed to her, furiously.

“Your BOY TOY took my devices DURING screen time and REFUSES to give them back!” Grace’s eyes went wide and she turned to look at Simon, who was pacing and didn’t even seem to hear the accusation, notice that she came in or to see Monty. Something was absolutely wrong here.

“Help get the groceries and I’ll get your devices, okay?” Grace said and cupped her chin. Hazel was still breathing heavily as she stormed out towards the groceries and Mrs. Monroe settled on the couch. Grace took Simon’s hand and he was startled by her sudden touch. But, the moment he realized it was her, he let out a deep breath and wrapped her up in a tight hug. “Hey. Let’s go talk, okay?” She suggested, rubbing his back. He nodded his head, but didn’t move from the spot or lessen his hold on. She squirmed a little bit and said politely, “Oxygen, Gray Eyes..” He let up and rushed out of the room. Grace followed and watched him flop on the bed and cover his face with his fists. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“We’ve been doing SO well…” He said, shaking his head.

“We have.” So, this is something that he did wrong? “And the only way that we continue doing well is to be open and caring with each other.” He slicked back the wild hairs that weren’t pulled into his ponytail. He appeared to be in a lot of pain, but she had to get whatever this was settled. “Should I go online? Will I see what happened, if I do?” She pulled out her phone, mumbling, “I’m guessing that’s why Hazel’s stuff was confiscate-” He snatched the phone from her hands and she let out a yelp, both at the audacity and the fact that she didn’t even see him get up.

“No. I have to tell you. You can’t find out on the Internet. SHE can’t get on. She CAN’T!”

“Why can’t she? Because, she’s pretty pissed and it IS her screen time…”

“Because, the internet is relentless and unkind, and she’s too young to have to deal with how much. Not today. She’ll… I’ll… give her extra time once it's died down.”

“Tell me what’s going on, Simon.”

He frowned, “Someone brought the tape up.” At first, she was confused. Was this something about the movie? Why would he be so upset as to take Hazel’s… “And it’s recirculating again. I’ve been reporting it and fans have been reporting it and it gets taken down, but more and more people have seen it now and it’s just… too much. I don’t want her to run into it…” NOW, she understood. That tape… which… technically… it was done with a webcam, so it was never a tape, it was a recording, but… “I saw it again… not watched it, but you know, saw a portion of it whenever I was reporting it… God…” He sat down on the bed, “You’re a kid, Grace. You had the rounded face and everything…”

“Ummm… You’re a month and a day older than me, Dude.” she said, sitting down, trying to pretend that she was more calm than her heart was allowing. She could barely breathe, thinking about the feelings that just mentioning that used to bring up for her. She wasn’t sure how she might react to seeing it come up somewhere. But, maybe she should try…

She gently took her phone back, despite his struggling. One stern look and he let it go, realizing that she was determined and he was probably already in a lot of trouble, if something had been triggered. She nodded, “Yep, looks like a few people have tagged me, asking me if I saw that somebody posted it…” She went to the video and he clenched the bedspread, moving his legs uncontrollably and looking straight ahead. “You know, a lot of people used to say that you couldn’t see your face in it, that it was out of frame, but it does come into frame a few times…” she said. She paused, “See?” He shook his head. “Simon, you’re not even gonna indulge me a little bit at a time like this?”

His frown deepened and he took another long breath. She was right. SHE was the victim in this. The least he could do was take a look at his disgusting handiwork. He saw himself and he recoiled. “You were a kid, too,” she said. “Sure, at the time, this hurt more than anything my brain can recall. But… I do know, as a grown ass woman, you were wrong and also were a child. Both of those things can be accurate.”

“We’re only a few years older than Hazel, there. If some kid did something like this to her… I would…”

“I would hope that you’d remember that you were their age once and just as bad.”

“Is… is that how you would react?”

“Oh, hell no. I’ve never done anything like this. I’d kill that fucking kid. But, you would have to be the adult that fucking pulls me off of him…” She laughed and scratched at his beard, “But, nothing like this will happen to Hazel. She’s a good judge of character and we know all of her friends.”

“Your parents knew me too, and I think that they’re pretty good judges of character. Your mom at least. She always knew that I was rotten.”

“No she didn’t! She knew that you weren’t rich, and in her head those two things were the same thing. She knew that you were controlling, and she thought that I was going to sacrifice myself for you, but she didn’t think that you were going to straight up try to assassinate my entire character.” He looked away from her, “And NOW, you are very diligent in making sure that you aren’t crossing any lines, with me and with Hazel, my mother, my father, and I think people in general. This wasn’t long enough ago that it’s not hurtful to think about… but it was long enough ago to not beat yourself up over. But… It is a burden that you designed. So, it’s only right that you explain to Hazel exactly why she shouldn’t be online right now.”

Hazel took it so much better than she had taken him taking away her computer and phone. “Are you serious? I’ll just avoid social media. You KNOW I don’t wanna see anything like that, myself, but I already knew that it existed out there somewhere.” She shook her head, “I don’t like the way you look with clothes ON, think I’d run the risk of seeing you without them?”

Grace suggested, “Is there anything else you want to say to him? Maybe about how you broke the news to me when I got home?”

“Oh..” Hazel flared her nostrils and rolled her eyes, “Sorry I called you Mom’s Boy Toy… You kinda are, but I shouldn’t say it…”

Simon laughed, mostly because he was relieved that she wasn’t scarred by him having to talk to her about this video resurfacing. “You kidding? I’m gonna put that on a t-shirt.”

“No cap? Because I have SO many where that came from.”

“We’ve gotta brainstorm.”

“Simpsona T-shirts can be your new thing…” And just like that, Grace watched them be best friends again. Hazel could get mad and stay mad for a long time, but she didn’t like to argue, so even whenever she got mad, she tended to stay to herself until she wasn’t. The two of them left to go sit on the swing set outside of the house they were renting, and Grace sat by her mom on the couch.

“I don’t even want to know what that was about.”

“Cool, because I wasn’t gonna tell you.”

“You don’t have to. One of your “boy toy’s” fans will.” Grace laughed and then threw her head onto her mom’s shoulder. The woman gasped at first, taken aback by the show of affection, but then placed her hand on Grace’s. “You’re a very good mother to both of them. You’ll be a good one to that one too.” she pointed her free hand at Grace’s belly.

“Did you just…?”

“Come on, you’ve been raising yourself a man since you met him and I’ll stand by that forever. Might get it engraved on my headstone.”

Grace cackled, “I absolutely AM NOT raising him!”

“He is literally a life sized puppy that went through a rebellious phase where he kept biting you!”

“Well, I finally realized that I have the power to curve that behavior… and trust me, Mom… It’s not something you’d do with somebody you’re raising.” Grace stuck her tongue out.

“Get off of me you scoundrel!” Her mother joked. Grace just laughed and held on tighter. The woman put her arm around her. “Are you okay, Darling?”

“Whenever I was hurt or scared as a little girl, I was more afraid of admitting it to you and Daddy. I would be more hurt by the thoughts of how little you would think of me if I openly showed imperfection. Not feeling that way took a long time and a lot of work. So, now, if I have a hard day, I’m not too proud to lay on my mommy and say so.” She looked to gauge her mother’s reaction. She was always speechless whenever Grace got emotional.

She’d never learn past those suppressing ways and it amazed Grace that her mother didn’t realize how much her and Simon were alike in that way. Simon had to work really hard at it and her mother was too proud and pampered to put in such effort. But, whenever Grace booped her nose, the woman’s eyes flickered amusement, ever so slightly. Now, she pushed Grace off of herself and opened her arms to receive Montanus. “Take a photograph of me with my children,” She told the nanny. “One with the two human ones, then we’ll add the new fur baby…”

She still hadn’t made any announcements about her status with Simon, nor had she spoken about her pregnancy outside of the maternity blog by the time Valentines’ Day rolled around. But, one thing that she did was allow for Simon to share maternity photos. That was her “gift” to him.

There. Were. Tons.

Simon took photos of everything. He had a copy of every ultrasound. He had an electronic journal of every detail that came up. So, whenever he posted the album “Countdown to Ivory’s Arrival,” he had more photos than most of the fans were probably going to look through. Therefore, he left many of them private, with only close friends able to view, and the ones that were public were his favorites of the candids of Grace being pregnant and gorgeous, some of the ones from photoshoots that she would post, and the professional maternity photos that they had taken so far. They took some each trimester, as a family.

The ones at her three month mark were taken in New York, early November (around their anniversary, whenever he was in town. They had fall colors and all three of them were absolutely stunning. Hazel was impressed with how well that Simon cleaned up, so much that whenever he showed her older photos of himself, she thought he was a different person. She had no idea how right about that she was. Simon being both subservient and also a mega diva himself was absolutely salivating every time Grace did something, but also, it was him who insisted, "We have to have a photoshoot each trimester, each with a different theme.” She agreed on the trimesters, but wasn’t feeling the theme part so much. She told him that they could simply have the season be the theme.

They had three changes of outfits for each set. Grace had a gown made much like the one that she had worn to the fall festival in 9th grade (the one that the Idol Princess’ gown was very heavily based on, the one that Simon had taken photos of her in, getting her first beauty deal underway), one that Simon saw her in and immediately began crying. “You’re… gonna ruin the photos,” Hazel told him.

There were candid ones of him crying. Her favorite was one where he was crying, Grace was trying to comfort him and Hazel dropped in front of them, bombing it with a prison pose and her tongue out. She had on a yellow pantsuit with fall leaves in her hair, her signature look being wearing leaves in her hair. Simon’s yellow suit was similar to hers, but way more expensive and the red accents, instead of the orange ones that Hazel elected.

The orange outfits were Hazel in orange overalls, Grace in a romper and Simon in a jumpsuit that Hazel insisted was “the most expensive prison wear in the world.” The red ones were regal matching dress attire, Grace in a two piece dress to show off her belly, Hazel in the same floor length evening gown, but one piece, and Simon in a red suit, made of the same material. Hazel’s hair was down and flowing. Grace’s was gathered up, with most of her afro pulled forward, cascading out of the jeweled red head dress she wore, and Simon’s usually (these days) flowing hair was pulled into a ponytail, with the undercut showing. He was generally self conscious about it, but Hazel put little red jewels over his scar, so even though he was still anxious about his hair, he was proud of her accessorizing enough that he wanted to confidently show it off.

The six month ones were taken in January, and done in all white, which Hazel said, “Looks fabulous on mom and me, but you look like the abominable snowman,” to Simon, on the day of. They were in California by that time, but took a little trip to the mountains because the Monroes had property there that Simon remembered had beautiful scenery that he wanted to have family photos at.

They did all white shots and winter blues.

Whenever Simon posted them on Valentines’ Day, Hazel joked in the comments, “I still say that we need to crop your face out.”

People loved the maternity photos, noticed that Grace did NOT have any on her page and she didn’t comment or react to any on Simon’s page. (Yes, these people pay entirely too much attention to the lives of celebrities that they didn’t even KNOW), but someone did some investigating and found Grace’s pregnancy blog. So… even though that was mostly a completely different following, others stormed into the space, thinking that FINALLY, some place where Grace has actually been interacting and will interact with us. She literally ignored anybody that wasn’t asking about helpful tips for their own pregnancy or giving her helpful tips and the title changed from, “Grace in Maternity” to “Y’all Can See This is a Mommy Blog, Right?”

A few people were seething, but funny enough, Grace’s faithful mommy following were more along the lines of, “Wait… You’re FAMOUS, Monroe Mommy???” After that, she had a hoard of moms check out her other life. She enjoyed having more of them in her fan base, though she also had a lot of ones who had always known being like, “Y’all seriously didn’t know Grace Monroe?” and her favorite quote ever on that blog, “Hell, her album is the reason I AM pregnant!!!”

Meanwhile, Simon had been less likely to play around with any of the fans ever since the video thing. He’d made that very clear, and then sort of stopped interacting with them. He didn’t even go through to like people’s comments anymore. Some of them would say things like, “Whoever resurfaced that video, if we find you, it's on sight for making Simon hate speaking with us!”

Sometimes a person would “Lol” and contend, “He’s too busy working on the Esmoroth movie. He’s not here because of the movie not some fuzzy sex tape from years ago.”

Those were the only ones that he’d respond to just to say, “No, they’re right,” and nothing else.

He wasn’t as busy on the Esmoroth movie as he intended to be. He was working on more tech and models for the movie than any other movie things. For one thing, the script was being adapted, and casting was hard. The casting director wanted to get a different type for the Idol Princess, but Simon was extremely firm and clear that the Idol Princess HAD to look exactly as described in the book. “There are parts of the story that are directly related to her looking the way that she does.”

“We can adjust those parts,” the director had said, hoping to appease him.

“The Idol Princess looks like my childhood best friend. Her look is non negotiable,” he had told them. They didn’t believe in non negotiable, apparently, because the girls that were being considered were all much too light. Whenever Simon had rejected them all, they informed him of those girls’ filmographies and their agents and other people said agents represented.. “Maybe they have that type of record because people are hiring them for roles that were meant to be for someone else. Just… give me all of the call sheets for girl characters who auditioned.”

He went through and disqualified half on looks alone (not to say that they weren’t pretty children or whatever, but they didn’t look like the Idol Princess). Whenever he had the stack of dark skin girls, he went through, checking their filmographies and auditions.

He asked Hazel for her opinion and she suggested a name that he recognized from his rejected stack. He pulled it back up and looked at the light skinned girl in the photo, "Do you mean this girl, Hazel?" He wondered.

"Yes! She's a really good actress!"

He furrowed his eyebrows and pointed out, "But she doesn't look like the Idol Princess. The Idol Princess has dark brown skin, tightly coiled hair, full nose and lips, and dark brown eyes. This girl has none of those things."

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, "She's really good though."

"Well… maybe some of these other girls are really good and people just don't want to see them in stuff like this."

Hazel frowned and she asked, "Are you accusing me of favoring her because she's got features like mine?"

"No. I'm just saying that she doesn't look the part. You're usually really good about that kind of thing, Haze."

"Well… I don't know anybody in the age range that looks like the description of the Idol Princess." She folded her arms, "But like you said, maybe that's because people take the easy way out and just get the pretty Black girl that they know of to play a part instead of being true to characters. I've definitely read more books with dark skinned girls than I've seen in movies…"

"Here are some of my choices," he said and spread the sheets out before her. "I think this one has the look, but I think this one had a better audition. BUT, she was auditioning for a background character and this one was auditioning for the Wicked Heiress. Maybe she just didn't have that role in her and should audition for the Idol Princess, so we can know for sure.."

"I think that maybe they should all audition for the Idol Princess again. What if they just didn't believe it would be realistic that they'd get offered a job like this, especially if bigger stars are being considered? Sometimes, I have to talk kids into auditioning for our productions because they're worried that the same actors will win out anyway."

He gave her a side smile, "I think you're onto something, Haze."

Hazel sent out the invites for Grace’s baby shower. Unfortunately, all of Grace’s friends lived elsewhere, so it would be an expensive trip. Fortunately, they had money, so the Monroes could foot the bill for everyone who didn’t just have the means to travel across country for an event.

Meta flew in with Damita from New York the previous week, but he made some business plans to collab with a Cali artist that week, so he was working, as well. Meanwhile, Damita and Grace were spending the week reconnecting and chilling. Shana and Iza came in from Atlanta the night before. Gharrisahn was already in LA for work, so she would swing by the day of. Grace’s parents arranged for Mikayla and Tulip to come down. They were in coach on the same flight that Lucy’s and Lindsay’s moms and they were in first class, so they’d all meet the driver upon landing.

Hazel had on a headset, along with Simon’s assistant and Grace’s assistant, because Hazel had arranged the shower and she wanted to make sure that things went how she meant for them to.

Grace was in a custom made gown that was inspired by Book 3 of Esmoroth and Simon had been at her side simply staring at her for the entire time she had it on. It had been a surprise. A very nice one that he apparently loved. She hired the costume designer for the movie to make her several pieces, but this one was like the one that the Idol Princess resurrects in. Grace was now hip to the lore enough, mainly from paying attention to Hazel’s ravings, and her and Simon’s movie chat.

For the most part, Grace didn’t want to have a shower. All of her friends lived elsewhere, the baby was due sort of close to Hazel’s birthday and she still wanted Hazel to be able to have a party - which she doubted would be able to happen if she waited until after they were born, so she wanted to have Hazel’s birthday party, INSTEAD of a shower and Hazel said, “How about you just worry about slaying everybody in your peak perfection pregnancy, and I’ll take care of the shower?”

With the financial backing of GlamMother, her dad’s big brain, and her own penchant for moments and aesthetics, Hazel tended to be very good at making things come together. She even produced some choreography (Doereography, as she called her pieces), for her and her mother to perform, because, yes, Grace was good and swollen by May, but she also could still do mostly everything that she was doing before with that additional bundle. It did throw her balance off a little and she couldn’t lift Hazel at the moment, but she kept up with every step of the Irish step dancing that Hazel put into the choreo, and she absolutely could still nail every Haitian movement. Hazel wanted to make a birthday choreo with ties to her heritage, and Grace was always very supportive of her doing anything that made her feel connected to her identity.

For good measure, Hazel looked up cultures from Grace and Simon’s heritages too. She was most accustomed to American jazz/hip hop and ballet. She started at 6, with Grace and when they were apart, Grace used to make instructional videos and post them just for Hazel. Whenever she was 10, she started to tap, and all of the other things in between, she and Grace perfected, and whenever she really wanted to nail something, they’d call in a world class trainer.

Hazel felt that a world class trainer was needed for the baby shower. Grace very much so disagreed. So, Hazel got her grandmother to get them. “Next time, simply come to me first,” the woman had said.

Hazel opened up with one of her raps. Her mom’s friends (as always) got their entire lives whenever she would flow - which was possibly the reason that she honed her talent, if she thought about it - and even Simon would be into the groove with things. He didn’t have the best rhythm, but he certainly always looked way taken up with her talent. Grace bouncing around with a round belly was everything in the world to Hazel, and when she was done, she waddled over to hug her.

They played games, did some traditional shower things and some new things too, that Hazel consulted with celebrity event planners for. When it was time for gifts, Grace froze, looking at the way that everything flowed. It was like her 16th birthday again and she felt like she might have a panic attack. “Grace… It’s okay,” Simon said. She looked at him on the other side of the tete a tete and he smiled, “I learned my lesson. This is straight up simply tribute.” He kissed her on the forehead and she calmed down to receive gifts and cry about everything, but manage to not look ugly doing so, because no matter how comfortable she had gotten over the years, that was still engrained in her as a huge no-no.

Winding down from the party, she found Hazel and her friends at the photo booth, having switched out their baby shower outfits for their birthday party outfits. “Where’s Simon?”

“Bullying people about their gifts,” Hazel said nonchalantly.

“Oh God…” Grace raced over and smiled, “Hey… what’s uh… what’s going on?”

Mrs. Monroe stood behind Simon with her arms folded and Mr. Laurent was in front of them. Simon answered, “Well, I’m giving people things back that went against the specifications for the list.”

“I don’t remember making specifications for the list.”

“You wouldn’t, because you didn’t, I did. You aren’t particularly great at meticulous things and you don’t pay attention whenever I’m telling you plans like these,” Simon said.

“We’re not gonna send a gift back with the person who gave it to us.”

“What are we gonna do, donate it to charity? Because I am not putting this together for our baby. This company uses…”

“Thank you, Mr. Laurent. Thank you for coming and thank you for this gift.” She gave the man a pat on the hand and smiled at Simon. He was still frowning, along with her mother. “You’re backing him up, now?” She got flashbacks of whenever they used to gang up on her and she was very salty that she had to defend MR. LAURENT of all people against the devastating team and Simon and her mother could be.

“He specifically said nothing from that company ON THE LIST,” her mom said, beginning a tirade against this man, with her and Simon taking turns on letting him know exactly how he’d fucked up.

“Their product is cheap and substandard.”

“They’ve decimated the supply of the people in the area they harness things from TO make cheap product.”

“And they use slave labor!”

“Child slaves.”

“OKAY! Okay… That’s a good company to boycott. But hear me out… Mr. Laurent is a simple man who shops at like three places and definitely doesn’t look up things like that,” Grace said.

To which Simon and Mrs. Monroe both reminded her, (loudly) “It was on the list!”

“I made it clear which companies we weren’t accepting gifts from!”

“It’s already bought.” Simon was going to continue complaining, but Grace took his hands and placed them on her belly and he immediately softened up and stared at it. “This is the most important thing, right?”

He looked up at her and cupped her face, shifting himself to touch foreheads with her. Hazel appeared out of nowhere to bomb the photo that they weren’t even expecting Lucy to take.

“Wait, that was it?” Grace wondered. Let’s be clear… she did go through a lot of pain and it was a tough time in the birthing house, even with Simon right beside her and Hazel, her mother and her best friend nearby. But… it felt like there should be something else happening or that something was missing, that she had neglected something, or like something didn’t happen that was supposed to.

She supposed that she had simply set her expectations so deeply into the thought of pain, struggle, blood, sweat and tears, that when it came… her imagination had actually run wild. Simon had kept telling her she was doing well and how he was proud of her and other affirmations. He was holding the baby now while she was being cleaned up.

“Did everything happen?” Grace asked.

Hazel went over the checklist with her. Yes. Everything happened. “Did I pass out?” No. She was awake. She was there for every grueling minute. It just was a different experience for her than what her mother described, than what she read and interpreted.

The professionals explained to her how her birthing went relatively well, what to do next, etc. Charlotte, from the center, even talked to her about how it’s not only different for everyone, but how all four of her own pregnancies and births were different from the last. Grace was expecting something terrible to happen within the first few days, just because it didn’t seem like everything had happened! The paranoia died down on day 3 and she simply was back to cuddling with her new baby.

They looked like her, so far. Hazel made them a stuffie of a potato in a diaper… the baby just looked like a potato. She didn’t know how else to express that. Simon worshipped them. He was constantly holding them whenever Grace wasn’t. He was close by whenever she fed them. He took so many photos on his phone that within days, he surpassed all of the ones he had of Monty from the past several months.

NONE of those were going online any time soon. Grace had only posted a few days after giving birth her experience with having done so. She bounced back so quickly and looked so effortlessly beautiful that some people were claiming that she had been trolling and was never actually pregnant. She found that funny, but it also was her cue to duck away from the Internet for a while again.

The first month of Ivory’s life, they were for the most part a quiet baby. Simon frequently worried that something was wrong, checking, rechecking, then coming back and checking again that they were breathing, awake, happy, etc. Grace was more like, “You’re so gross. Look at you! Drooling all over everything. Little slobbery monster!” She spoke in a high pitched voice that made Ivory smile and kick their little legs around.

“GRACE! Don’t say that!” Simon insisted. “You’re gonna make them feel bad.”

“No way! Ivory’s a tough little cookie, like their Mama. I gonna bite you, Cookie! Mama gonna bite you!” Then she playfully nibbled at their feet and hands.

Simon studied the baby for a while and determined, “They seem to be enjoying it.” He would then relax a little.

Hazel was the only person allowed to post photos of Ivory, and comments were always closed. The first one was on Hazel’s birthday. She was in a sundress, tanned a little more than usual and Ivory and she had on matching rompers and sunhats. “Ivory came 13 days before my 13th year. They really said, “I’ma be 13 too, Sis.” Look at them. Tiny. Tiny Potato. Sis has your back for life. #taurustribe #jk #idcboutthat #MonroeSibs #Doetography #HouseLaurent

And there it was. All that anyone needed to see. You honestly couldn’t tell what the baby looked like, but how could anybody doubt Hazel’s hashtag “House Laurent?”

Simon sort of liked having a private family. He wasn’t sure why he had been so eager to have people acknowledge things before. Even one year ago, he needed for somebody, anybody to know that he slept in the same bed with Grace Monroe. He needed for her to say “I love you.” He needed to hear Hazel call him “dad.” He still loved those things, but he had everything he could have ever wanted… it just looked different than he thought it would.

Why did he want to “take care of” Grace for so long? She was caoable of taking care of herself, probably better than he was of himself. She had talents (was ALREADY back to working on new dances with Hazel and new music), qualities… God… that smile made him weak… She had several other things too, but if he sat there making a list, he’d be there for a while, and he COULDN’T be there for a while, because Ivory was six weeks old and Grace told him that he could take them with him to work.

He began strapping the baby into the stroller… “Are you… where are you trying to take my baby?” Grace asked.

“My calendar says that they’re six weeks old. I can take them to work with me.”

Grace put her hands on her hips and Simon frowned. “You said it. I have a recording of you saying it.”

“Well, I said that we shouldn’t take them anywhere before six weeks…”

“And I set my calendar,” Simon completed the thought and pulled the diaper bag onto his shoulder. “Abigail is bringing Monty, so they’ll have a play date.”

“Oh, she is?” Grace asked, toweling herself down. “Hold on. I’m coming.”

“Grace, I’m gonna be late!”

“I’m not letting you go be a Daddy sized snack with TWO cute babies on you with a cute, perfect bodied nanny with no friends!”

“I don’t think she’s all that cute and I have no idea what her body looks like!”

“It doesn’t look like she pushed a baby out of it six weeks ago!”

“NEITHER DOES YOURS!”

She came into the room, changed up and smiling, “Awww. That’s so sweet.”

“How did you?” She looked perfect. She looked perfect and she couldn’t have taken any longer than five minutes. And she thought she had anything to worry about? But, he wasn’t complaining. If he had Grace and the baby around, that was just better, all around.

“I’m staying here,” Hazel told them and continued dancing in the mirror.

Grace was standing on the scooter, with Simon behind her, sporadically kissing her on the neck every now and then, making her smile and gush. Whenever they pulled into the studio Simon took the baby out, which Grace noticed was wearing an oversized heather gray, “Proof he got lucky with Grace Monroe” onesie. “Simon! What did you…?” She gasped and saw that he had a shirt, the same color that read, “I got lucky with Grace Monroe.”

“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to be here today!” Simon told her.

“How many shirts and onesie sets did you buy?”

“Not a lot. I bought WAY MORE t-shirts than I did onesies.” She fell behind a little and the back of that man’s shirt said “Grace’s Babydaddy.”

“Simon…”

“In my defense… You were right there whenever I walked out of the house wearing it.” She laughed. “It’s just in the studio. I’m working on some mechanics. There’s not gonna be cameras on me or anything.” She was still pouting. “I know that you’re super secretive, but I’m sure that most of the people who give a damn about what we do already know that this is indeed my baby…”

“It’s not that.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Ugh. I wanted to do this whole reveal thing for you on Sunday! I was gonna make this long, sweet post and open my comments and EVERYTHING. Now, I feel like it won’t have the same effect…” His eyes were already all watery, just from her THINKING about doing so.

“Sunday is Father’s Day…”

“Yeah. I can keep my own secrets. Not tell people about my pregnancy or who I bone or how I share time with my daughter or whatever, but I didn’t plan on making you stay in the shadows of my spotlight for the rest of our lives, especially when it comes to this. You’ve been an immense pain in the ass, but you’re a wonderful father and I figured it’d be a good… coming out of sorts for me to acknowledge that on that day.”

He cradled Ivory closely, “You can still do that.”

“Well, you’ve announced it all over your clothes and also… I just told you the entire plan!”

“I love knowing plans!” Simon said. “Here.” He took off the shirt and threw on his hoodie, which it was too hot for and then they changed the baby’s onesie too. “I sort of want to eat it up whenever people actually find out from you that I am indeed, who you bone.” She laughed. “This is the best spoiled surprise that I’ve ever had!”

“Well… I didn’t tell you ALL my plans, so there’s still stuff to look forward to.”

“Yeah?” He asked, casually as they walked inside.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Can I have a hint?”

“Something that starts with the letter P.” Simon turned red and she smiled brightly.

“Uh. Didn’t put THAT on your calendar, did you?”

His lip dropped, “I DIDN'T!” He frowned, “In my defense… we don’t really do that enough for it to have been something I was counting down to.” He smirked, “But every time we do…” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her. She bit her lip and shook her head, “Nope. Sunday. You aren’t gonna beard break me, Mr. Laurent.”

#If They Didn't Get on the Train #AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics

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queenlokibeth · 4 years

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Let's talk about mobilty issues! As someone with a condition/rare illness/"thing" that can be considered an invisible disability, i tend to look fully abled. I have good days, meh days, bad days, horrible days. Sometimes it's longer than a day, like when i've gotten injured (however many times you think that has happened, triple it, at least) and i get stuck in a cast, crutches, wheelchair, whatever.

I get to see both worlds, so when i'm acting in a "functional" way, when it's a good day, and i mention the lack of a ramp somewhere, or "hey i dont think that this is very accesible" i get stares from abled people, not all bad, the majority probably don't mean any harm, but their confusion is in "why did you notice that", "how would you know", "oh i've never thought about that".

And that's the issue. It shouldn't have to take a person to go through the ordeal of not being able to navigate your every-day space for them to be a BIT more aware. When you are disabled, have an injury, have any sort of mobility issue, i'd say that 90% of the pain, annoyance and tediousness that you might experience has to do with how others treat you and how welcoming or unwelcoming places physically are to you, not the condition itself.

Why am i writing this? Because yesterday i was coming back into my building and through the glass i saw a guy fumbling with his crutches trying to pull the door open. There is one of those buttons thst you press to get the door open for wheelchairs on the inside... but it's broken. When i saw him i immediately pressed the button on the outside so that the door would open. I didn't open it myself on one hand so that I wouldn't be an obstacle as he walked out, but also because those doors are so heavy that they fuck up my shoulders whenever i try to open them manually. I stood to the side to give him space to move and practically rushed out and went "thankyouthankyouthankyou im so sorry" and i was like hey don't apologise take your time, don't worry.

He was thankful, embarrassed, and apologetic. Whenever i'm physically able to, i always go out of my way to help people struggling with their mobility devices and stuff (you know, in a respectful way, asking, and not grabbing their shit without permision). The reaction is always the same, and one that i have also had. People rush you, let doors slam in your face, make invasive comments, leave you behind if you're in a group, and if they try to "help", more often than not it's to satisfy their own curiosity.

When i help someone they probably think that i'm just some random abled person who knew what to do, and i don't mind that. When i have been in those situations i have NEVER received help from an abled person who wasn't my dad or a medical professional.

What i'm telling you all is that, if you are a physically abled person, please try to be actively mindful about these things. You don't have to do anything big, it quite literally is the just the little things. Don't be overbearing or condescending treating people with disabilities as if we were useless or weird (i WILL deck you) but that doesn't mean that you should basically pretend that we're on the same playing field.

If you see someone with crutches, offer to open the door. If you see someone in a wheelchair in a crowded place, try to clear up the path ahead by asking people to move aside for a bit. If you see someone with some sort of splint or brace on their hands trying grab or open something without success, politely offer to help. AND, that's for people you don't know. For your friends, be even more considerate. Don't make plans to go play footie or go on a rollercoaster when you know you friend can't do that.

Just, please be aware.

#eds3 #edsiii #mine #gpoy

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kattegat-kittycat · 4 years

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Fates Entwined, part VI: Safe In A Dream

After your former clan was brutally murdered, you agree to an arranged marriage with Ivar to keep your social status. You may not always see eye to eye and sometimes even find yourself on different sides of one war or the other, but somehow you can never escape each other no matter how much you try to forget, deny and run. Somehow you always end up in each other’s faces. Sometimes quite literally.

A/N: As the fact checking goes, there actually was the possibility of mills and flour during the Viking age. I doubt that the mills in Ribe/Ripa actually date back that far, but well...

Don’t get me into the physical locations of all the Viking towns and stuff. It is incorrect in Vikings, so I don’t try to fix it now. Took me around seven hours from the German border to Ribe by bike, so I guess it would be about a day’s worth of travelling by horse. Anyhow.

There is a little teeny tiny bit of smut in the end, slightly dubcon, little fingering, little oral, nothing in the grand scheme of things, seeing that in Vikings there are people having sex and being raped all the time. I am not that comfortable with that, so, well, it is pretty vanilla.

As I will have to go back and rewatch a few episode to make sure I get the story woven into the series’ context at least a little sensibly, it might take a couple days (read: might be weeks) for me to update again. Just a heads up. I had this planned out a little differently first, but now I will probably have to wait for the series to end, so I know how to end this story.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

On the edge of life.

After all these days are gone. The endless haze will rise. I close my eyes. I'm safe from all harm. I'm safe in a dream.I want you to stay. I want you to be there for me. 'Cause I need your love. I need your touch. I long for your embrace.

Entwined - Safe In A Dream

The people of Ripa had gladly accepted me back in their town and as head of the earldom. Many of them had stories to tell of my uncle ruling them with a hand harder than necessary. I was happy to be back in my hometown at the bank of the river leading through the marshes to the sea. It was beautiful and so much calmer than the hustle and bustle in Kattegat. It was softer than the fjord-environment; there were endless marshes and fields to be farmed and the sunrises were the most beautiful I had ever seen, I was sure of that. I also loved hearing the watermills at Neder-, Mellem- and Overdammen in the inner city, producing all the flour we could wish for.

My family’s estate had been ransacked, but with the support of a few helpful hands, we were able to rebuild it pretty quickly. I knew I would have to return to Kattegat in time to be back when Ivar came home, but I also had to think of my earldom now. Ripa was the oldest town in the north, and I was proud to be its earl.

I talked with my old teacher, Ole, about setting up a council to decide over all important matters in my absence and I trusted Ole to be its head. I was more than happy when he agreed to my suggestion. He had been my teacher when I was younger, so I knew I could place the fate of my home and my people in his hands. After a couple of weeks in Ripa, when I was sure peace could and would be held up even if I went away, I gathered the shield maidens Lagertha had sent with me and we made our way back to Hedeby.

But there were no signs of Lagertha or most of the inhabitants here. The town was uncharacteristically quiet considering the amount of warriors and shield maidens that usually roamed the streets and went about their daily businesses. As we drew closer, we realised that except for a few men guarding the town and the traders, villagers and farmers, the city was empty. We rode up to the Ting house, where I expected to find Lagertha or at least someone who could tell us, what had happened. As I had thought, all we found was her secondary, a woman called Ragnheiđur. She came toward us as we neared the house and greeted us calmly.

She was an imposing woman, broad shoulders and long blond hair, even for a viking warrior she was really muscular. She was as strong as most men and you could see the silent confidence in her every move. She had grown up in Hedeby and had been taken under Lagertha’s wing when Lagertha came here. As I trusted Ole with Ripa, Lagertha trusted Ragnheiđur with Hedeby, because she knew that she wanted the best for her hometown. Astrid was the person Lagertha trusted most, but Ragnheiđur was a close second. I also had to admit that it was a compliment to Lagertha’s tactical thinking that she had left some of her best fighters in Hedeby. Firstly, they could keep foreign forces at bay and second of all, it led people to underestimate Lagertha’s real military power. I made a mental note and then frowned. It only left one question:

“Where is Lagertha?” I asked Ragnheiđur, as soon as I was within earshot.

“Well, hello to you, too. I hear you had a successful journey to your hometown, Earl of Ripa.” Even though she had just shoved my nose into my own impoliteness, she was easy to laugh and did just that.

“I am sorry, there was a lot on my mind. Hello and greetings to you, Ragnheiđur. How come you are here to greet me and not Lagertha? I wanted to thank her personally for her help.”

Ragnheiđur shook her head, but smiled. She was young, but pretty unimpressed by my impatience. She herself was not the most patient person, so she knew how to take my blunt question.

“Haven’t you heard? Lagertha is now the reigning Queen of Kattegat. She overthrew Queen Aslaug who renounced her claim on the throne.”

I was about to just turn my horse around, but Ragnheiđur stopped me.

“It is about to get dark and you probably haven’t eaten. Please come in and sit with me before you leave for Kattegat. You won’t be able to change anything anymore. What has been done, is done.”

I gave her a stern look. “What has she done?”

Ragnheiđur’s face turned sad. “You know what happened. You know why she took the opportunity while you were away. You might not have been Aslaug’s greatest fan, but Lagertha knew you would try to stop her, when she wanted to kill the Queen.” She grabbed my horse’s reigns and petted its nose. “Come in and eat. You won’t change the past by endangering yourself. Don’t forget, you are important now.” She grinned at me as she spoke those words. She was so open and easy to listen to, I didn’t think twice and followed her advice.

I got off my horse and she gave its reigns to her servant girl, who brought it into the direction of the stables. I followed her into the Ting house and the shield maidens who had followed me to Ripa entered just behind us. It would probably be the last quiet evening for a while. The last evening I would not have to talk and act politics, because Ragnheiđur already started asking me about my hometown and if it still looked like I remembered it. As dinner was served, she suddenly turned a little quieter.

“Would you mind taking the princes with you to Kattegat when you are leaving?” she then asked.

“The princes?” I asked, a little confused.

“Yes, trust me, it is a long story.” And with that she started to recount the happenings of the last weeks, clearly marking her distaste in some of the events, but who was she to question her earl? I could see how I would have to treat around Lagertha in the future, because I, too, had sworn her allegiance, just like Ragnheiđur had. When I asked her if it caused her any problems, she smiled again.

“Of course we are not always of the same opinion, but in the end, I find it easier to follow Lagertha than any other earl or queen. I know who she is, I know what she wants, she doesn’t play unnecessary games. She is a just ruler. I am also in a unique position to learn a lot from her, about leadership, about life, about making hard decisions.”

I considered her words and felt relief wash through me. Maybe I had made the right decision, even if it hurt.

Ragnheiđur came to wake me up the next morning. “Y/N, you want to wake up. Margarete just freed the princes and they are getting ready to leave.”

I sat up in an instant, looking straight into her dark brown eyes, as I opened mine. “Gods, Ragnheiđur, you scared me.”

She just chuckled and grinned. “Haha, sleepy head, get dressed and get yourself ready, I’ll tell the princes to wait.” She gave me another look, then she left the house.

When I got out into the broad daylight, Ubbe and Sigurd stood beside their horses, obviously frustrated by the delayed departure, but waiting for me. Or at least Ubbe was, Sigurd was flirting with Ragnheiđur as best he could. She smiled at his jokes, but I could see that she wasn’t impressed. When Ubbe saw me, his face turned darker than before.

“Oh, nice, the traitor makes her entry.”

Ragnheiđur suddenly turned to him and gave him a shove. “Hey, you don’t get to talk about her that way! She is worth more than the two of you.”

I smiled ruefully. “Thank you Ragnheiđur, but he is kind of right. I did betray my promise to his brother.”

Ubbe threw me a dark look. “You know as well as I do, that I am talking about you turning your back on my mother and leaving her defenseless.”

I snorted. “You mean like you did when you came here? Don’t try blaming that on me.”

We stared each other down for a moment, until Ragnheiđur had enough. “You wanted to leave, Ubbe, now you are free to go. Don’t make a scene, just go.”

I expressed my gratitude to Ragnheiđur and then got on my horse, waiting for the princes to do the same. When I heard the sound of their horses following me, I could feel myself relax a little. We rode in silence for the first part of the journey, until Ubbe rode up next to me. Sigurd was still behind us and he didn’t make any attempts at riding up either. He seemed to be content where he was. Ubbe on the other hand had something to say.

“So, you made a pact with Lagertha to gain her support in your attempt at overthrowing your uncle. How did that go for you?” he asked way too sweetly. I wanted to slap him.

“Fairly well for the second part. Turns out, she didn’t really want my help though, but rather to get me out of the way.”

Ubbe’s eyes fixated on me. “So, you were not a part in the battle for Kattegat?”

“No, I got injured claiming Ripa and I only came back yesterday. And that was what Lagertha had hoped for. She knew I had no trouble leaving Kattegat to her, but I would not have let her kill your mother.”

“Why would she…”

“We are pretty similar. She did not only want her home back. She wanted revenge on the woman who took it from her.”

Ubbe objected: “Our mother has not stolen anything…”

Sigurd gave a humorless laugh from behind us. “My dear brother, you of all should know that our mother is far from perfect, she is manipulative and used to getting what she wants, whatever she needs to do for it. I mean, she came back to Kattegat, pregnant with you, driving Lagertha out of her own home. She used the trouble of a girl without a family to get her crippled son married. I am more confused that Y/N would have defended her than by the fact that Lagertha would want to kill her.”

It was the first time, I actually appreciated something Sigurd had said and I looked at him with surprise. “I was indebted to her. And while it might seem unlikely, I did like her. Not very much, but more than a little.” He threw me a sceptical look.

“You do realise she only used you, do you?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I cannot claim that I have been at a disadvantage because of that. I did not like the way she went about it, but I do think that she believed herself to be kind in helping me, even if it served her own ends.”

Sigurd snorted. “You really do like our brother. How very odd.”

We rode in silence again, until Ubbe said:

“So, I hear you’re an earl now.”

I snorted. “I guess I am. But don’t tell Ivar that I am more important than him.”

Ubbe burst into laughter. And Sigurd shook his head in amusement.

“So, I guess congratulations are in order?” Sigurd said from behind us.

I shrugged. “I only claimed my rightful title. And I got my revenge.”

“Like Lagertha?” Sigurd asked again.

“No. I killed all his heirs and loyal followers as well. You don’t want to keep around people who hold a grudge against you. Look where it brought my uncle. Or your mother.”

“That is cold blooded.” Ubbe remarked and I shrugged.

“It is war. There is no place for feelings in a war.”

Sigurd frowned. “Why do I still keep on being surprised by how similarly you and Ivar are thinking?”

“Thank you.” I smirked at Sigurd.

His frown went deeper. “That was not a compliment.”

Ubbe and Sigurd turned uncharacteristically quiet. Until Sigurd piped up:

“Should I feel guilty for not really feeling grief about the loss of my mother?”

Ubbe’s face turned dark. “We do not know that Lagertha killed her! Maybe she is still alive. All we have are speculations.”

I gave a nod. “I cannot see your mother any more. But then again, I could only see her future when I touched her.”

“So, what can you see, if you cannot see what is going on in Kattegat or with our mother?” Ubbe asked.

“Your brother. I can see your brother.” I answered solemnly.

“He is sitting in a dark room somewhere in England. Your father is still with him, but Ivar is sure that they are going to kill him. He is ready to die with your father. He cannot really understand their language, so he doesn’t know what is going on and Ragnar won’t tell him much. He is afraid of losing him, now that he spent some time with him.”

Sigurd rolled his eyes. “Precious little Ivar was probably a big help for father.”

“He was. Ragnar had to carry him through the woods, yes, but Ivar helped him kill the traitors in their midst who were ready to sell them out to the English.”

“How do we know you don’t just make that up?” Ubbe asked. It was not a vicious question, just a curious one.

“You don’t. I don’t even know how I know this. But I can tell you one thing, your brother will not come back the same person after this. I am a little afraid of what the news of your mother’s death might do to him. He will need his brothers after that.”

Sigurd’s voice turned bitter. “We don’t even know if Ivar comes back and if our mother is dead. But I am quite sure that our little momma’s boy could use some harsh reality to wake up and realise the world does not revolve around him.”

“That, Sigurd, is the problem.” My voice had turned sharp. “He is aware of that and that is why he will want to create a world that revolves around him.”

“Should you be speaking about your husband in that manner?” Ubbe asked more amused than actually affronted.

I cocked an eyebrow. “Ubbe, I will do anything to prevent my husband from going on an insane quest to prove his worth to the Gods. But to keep him safe, I have to face the harsh reality of who he is and who he could turn into.”

Ubbe’s piercing blue eyes met mine. “Is he your husband or your quest?”

I shrugged. “A little bit of both. But before all else, he is my life.”

“Well, good luck with that.” I heard Sigurd whisper.

When we arrived back in Kattegat, I found my fears proven right. Lagertha had crowned herself queen and killed Aslaug. But there was nothing, I could do or could have done. Even if I had been in Kattegat, there would have been no chance for me or the princes to help. The people of Kattegat remembered their former leader and Ragnar’s first wife and they supported her. Nobody had liked the etheral and distant Aslaug much, whereas most people still remembered how Lagertha had helped built the foundations for Kattegat to become what it was now. I looked at Ubbe and Sigurd and I could see in their faces that they understood as well. I wondered about Margarete, but Sigurd quickly explained to me that she would be coming back to Kattegat the next morning, at least that was what Ragnheiđur had told them.

I entered the longhouse behind the two princes and watched on as they witnessed what we already had suspected; there was no way to fight Lagertha. Ubbe tried to avenge the death of his mother in a fit of rage when he saw my visions had turned reality and became even angrier when he heard that they had been quick to burn her body as well.

I had held myself in the background, because I had no reason to fight Lagertha, but after the commotion had settled and Ubbe and Sigurd had left the longhouse, Lagertha stood up and came over to me. It was no leisurely stroll, it was a prowl, she was ready to pounce and rip my throat out, if I did anything wrong.

I took a knee and bowed before her. “My queen.” I addressed her and left no doubt where my loyalties lay.

“Y/N, for a moment there, I was confused as to what to think about you appearing with the sons of Ragnar.” She remarked, making sure beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was hers.

I stood and looked at her calmly. “We had the same road to travel, so Ragnheiđur suggested we travel together. Greetings from her and Hedeby, they extend you their congratulations.”

She gave an appreciating little nod. “Thank you. So, tell me, how did your voyage out west go?”

“The earldom of Ripa also extends its congratulations and is at your service should our help be needed.” I said and beamed at her proudly. She took my shoulder and drew me into a tight hug. Even though she touched my shoulder only lightly, I cringed a little in pain. The wound had healed up well, but it still gave me some pain and aches. Lagertha’s eyes followed her hand and noted the reaction.

“I am sorry my queen, I got injured in the battle.”

“That’s a small price to pay to restore the world as it should have been in the first place. We just followed our fates. So you were able to overcome the usurper and kill him?”

“Him and his whole kin. I do not believe in misguided clemency. He tried to erase my family from the world and so I erased his.”

“You probably don’t think it wise of me to keep the sons of Aslaug around?”

I smiled at her wearily. “I am in no position to question your judgement on the matter. And I am thankful as my husband is one of them.”

She gave a nod. “I know. So be assured that unless provoked, I could never kill any son of Ragnar. Also, I know them to act before they think and that makes them less of a threat. The only one not lacking their father’s vision is Ivar, but as long as you can convince him to refrain from going after me, you must fear no harm.”

“It will be hard work, but I will do my best.”

“Surely he will listen to you.” Lagertha said and left no doubt that he better do as she said.

“You haven’t really met my husband until now, have you?” I asked her, slightly amused.

She frowned. “Well, you better find a way to appease him, because I will not spare him if he makes an attempt on my life.” There was a definitive edge to her voice that told me how serious she was.

I bowed my head and gave a nod. “I am aware of that, my queen. I am, however, also aware of the fact that he can be very impulsive and please consider that he is the youngest of the sons and had a close bond with his late mother.”

Lagertha looked at me for a long time, then she gave a nod. “I will take that into consideration”, then she smiled, more to herself than at me, “Ragnar was impulsive as well, when he was young. But well, we don’t even know if they will come back. And then Ragnar will have to…”

“Ragnar will not be coming back to Kattegat.” I told her.

Her eyes narrowed. “And how would you know that?”

“I saw it. I am not as gifted a seer as Aslaug, but Ragnar will be handed to King Aelle. And you know that there is no love lost between those two.”

“And what makes you think your husband will survive if even Ragnar had to surrender?”

I smiled at that. “You really don’t know my husband.” There was a sense of pride that came with these words. Ivar was sly. He was cunning and he was stronger than people gave him credit for. But the less she knew, the better.

She gave me a pitiful smile, but I knew, I was right.

I found Margarete in the kitchen the next day, preparing food for the night. She seemed slightly scared, but mostly angry. There had been no love lost between her and Queen Aslaug, but at least Aslaug hadn’t played her for a fool and used her to her own ends. She resented Lagertha for playing her.

“Can you not free me from Lagertha? I do not wish to serve her, she tricked me into deceiving Ubbe and Sigurd.”

I shook my head with a sad smile. “I am afraid not. I have yet to prove my worth to Lagertha, also, I do not have the money or the means to buy you from her.”

Margarete made an impatient gesture. “What good was your becoming an Earl, when you don’t have any power?”

I lost my patience with the girl. “Margarete! You know how to get out of this! You were already on your way to convince Ubbe to marry you.”

Margarete looked at me with wide eyes. “How do you…?”

“I know these games. A lot of slaves have slept their way to freedom. I don’t judge you for it, people have to do what they can to be free.”

“Like marry Ivar the Boneless, gain military power and overthrow their uncle?”

It sounded almost as bad as sleeping your way to freedom. Well, to be honest, had Ivar not been Ivar, it would have been exactly the same. I still smiled at her.

“And this is why I like you. We are very similar in some regards.”

Margarete took a deep breath and looked at me levelheaded.

“But Ubbe has nothing to say in whatever Lagertha does. She might very well just kill him.”

I shook my head. “He is still a son of Ragnar and that means something to the people in Kattegat. She could never kill one of them, least of them Ubbe. He looks too much like his father. So go on, take your chance. You deserve more than this. But be careful, Margarete. I cannot save you, I hold no power in this town.”

Her head bobbed in understanding. As I was about to go, she grabbed my wrist.

“Thank you. For not judging me based on what I have to do. If you ever need my help…you know where to find me.”

I smiled at her. “Just promise me to be careful.”

I could feel the mood change in Ivar, when Ragnar was handed to Aelle. I mostly felt it through the flare of anger being lit in Ivar’s mind. I could feel the slow burn of hatred consume most of his thoughts and cloud his mind, as he set sail to Kattegat.

I wasn’t there when Ivar’s boat landed at the harbour and when he confronted and challenged Lagertha, I had been to Hedeby for the day and as I returned, I heard people talk and chatter. And then I felt his presence in the town. It was not only his own anger that seeped through the streets, but also the people’s apprehension as they all knew that Ivar coming home to the news of his mother being dead at the hands of Lagertha did not bode well. I heard from somebody that Ivar had been escorted out of the longhouse back to his old dwellings. So, I entered our home, unsure if this even was our home anymore. I took a deep breath and pulled aside the curtain dividing his space from the main room of the house. He was sitting on the bed and his head shot up, as soon as I entered the space. An unreadable grin spread across his face, splitting it in two, making it look like a horrible grimace.

“My wife. My beautiful moon… Tell me, how is your shoulder, love?”

I quickly touched my fingers to the scar on my left shoulder and knew from the calculating look in his eyes that he knew. I closed my eyes.

“How do you know?” I asked calmly.

He snorted and tilted his head. “It’s kind of a funny story…” And with that he took the helm of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing a scar that looked exactly like the one I sported and that had not been there before he had left for England. “I had a dream. I got hit by an arrow while conquering Ripa, a town that I had never seen before, but now know better than I care for. I woke up screaming in agony. So… if this is true, you probably went to Ripa.”

I gave a nod. Why did I feel my cheeks burst up in red hot shame, when I had nothing to be ashamed of? “Yes, I did.” I said in a little voice that didn’t even sound like me.

“Even though you promised me to stay in Kattegat.” And there was the accusational tone, I had been waiting for.

“Well, I am here now, am I not?” I countered and felt more like myself again.

His eyes glared at me like blue flames. “But you went to Ripa and endangered yourself.” He pressed at me through clenched teeth.

“I did what I needed to do. And now I am back here for you.”

“You could have been killed!” He screamed at me, which took me aback. I knew his low growling, his mocking, his sardonic undertones, his playful threats, but never had I heard him scream like this. He sounded more like a wounded animal than angry. That surprised me the most. Ivar wasn’t only angry, Ivar was afraid.

“But I wasn’t killed, that’s what matters.” I tried to soothe him.

“No, it is not! I cannot have you traipsing around getting yourself in danger!”

He had pushed me over the edge of my empathy. “And what is it to you?! You were in England trying to get yourself killed!”

“It matters because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone! I cannot lose you!”

“But I am supposed to lose you and be fine with it? I know you are planning to go back to England!”

That took him by surprise. “I…They killed my father! I have to go back to avenge his death!”

“Exactly!!!” I screamed at him. “As did I! I also had to avenge my father’s death! So what is the big difference?”

Ivar looked at me for a moment, before he growled. “You are mine!” As an afterthought he added: “Also, it seems like I get injured if you get hurt. So, you die, I die.”

I raised my eyebrows. “But that probably works the other way around as well!”

Ivar had become quieter and quieter. Now he looked at me, eyes wide with simple fear. “So…you don’t know what is happening to us?”

I calmed down instantly. Shook my head. Looked him in the eyes. “I don’t. Your mother was the only one who might have known.”

His face fell and he shook his head. “I cannot believe that my mother and father are both dead.”

I took a step toward him, still hesitant, still not sure how he would react. He looked up to me, his eyes glinting with moisture. When I was close enough, he took my wrist. His grip was painfully hard on my skin, as he tugged me toward him. His other hand took hold of my upper arm and he pulled me down onto the bed with him. His lips found mine before I could say or do anything, the kiss forceful and possessive. He pushed me down beneath him and shoved my dress and underskirt up to my hips, pushing it further up, until he had me pinned beneath him, dress up around my waist. I felt exposed until he kissed my stomach, his hands gliding beneath the folds of the fabric to my breasts. I wanted to protest, but I couldn’t find the words.

“Ivar…”

He growled as he bit into the flesh just beneath my right breast, then kissed it.

“You are mine, Y/N, you will always be mine.”

I sighed, my hand gripping his hair that had become longer and a little shaggy. I liked it and gave it a tug.

“And you are mine, but you cannot just do with me as you please!”

Ivar looked up at me, across my upper body, his eyes like those of a feral animal.

“Then tell me you don’t want this!” he growled.

For a moment, we stared at each other, Ivar motionless above my naked lower body.

I made a frustrated sound and wriggled out of my dress all the way just to unceremoniously drop it over the edge of the bed. Ivar looked up and down my exposed body, then his eyes caught on the scar on my shoulder. He touched its twin on his own body and compared the two with wonder. I was just as fascinated by the scar he should not have, so I sat up and asked him to turn around. It really went through. Just like my shoulder, his had been pierced through, he had the same identical scar on the back of his shoulder that I had. I swallowed hard and looked into his eyes.

“Ivar…”, he looked back with concern, “I am scared.”

At that, he took me into his arms, his skin feeling comforting on mine.

“I am as well. Do you understand now why I cannot have you getting yourself in danger? I don’t want us to die. It is bad enough that I have to fight the English and risk your life.” He placed a kiss on the spot where my neck met my shoulder and I sighed.

“Let us not argue about this any more. I have missed you, my husband.”

“Well, you kept yourself busy, that much is clear.” He chuckled. “If you hadn’t broken your promise, I would be immensely proud of you, my earl.”

I kissed his jaw. “Tell me about your vision, how was it?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“If I am being honest, it scared me. Seeing you, seeing you in danger, it was bad. Father threw an empty cup at me, because I did not stop screaming.” He smiled, almost fondly.

I kissed the side of his cheek, gently tracing his cheek with my fingers, then placed a kiss on his pulse point. I could feel the life humming through his veins, the life he shared with me, and suddenly, I felt possessive, too. I nudged him down onto the furs and almost jumped him, kissing his jaw, his throat, his collarbone. Ivar dragged me onto him and was only happy when I straddled his waist. He looked up at me and his hands reached for my breasts. He kneaded them, then sat up to put his mouth around one of my nipples that already stood at attention. He softly bit down, sucked, making me moan as a shiver ran down my spine. He had talked about women with his father and he was all too eager to try his hand at some of the things his father had mentioned.

As he sucked my nipple, his hand massaged my other breast, pinched the other nipple. I took in a sharp breath.

His brothers were sleeping in the adjoining rooms, only divided from us by a curtain. I had heard Ubbe and Margarete often enough to know what positions Ubbe favoured, but I did not want the same notoriety. As I thought about that, I missed Ivars second hand drifting down and slipping in between my legs. Only when he touched me in my most sensitive spot, I gasped. He rubbed a little, moved his fingers back and forth, always gauging my reaction. He smiled when I bucked my hips forward as he touched me, before he quickly turned us around, lying above me, hand still between my legs. He kissed my lips shortly, then kissed down my midline, until he was just below my belly button. He looked up to me, as if asking permission, and when I gave a slight nod, he slipped further down, parting my legs and suddenly sucking on my clit. I almost squealed at the sensation, but bit my lip instead, my hip pressing upwards. I could feel Ivar hum appreciatively against my skin and the vibration almost drove me wild. His slight attempt at a beard didn’t look like much, but it teased me even further, when his lips explored a little further and he found my entrance. His tongue darted in and out of me a few times, making me grab at his hair. He took that as the right direction and inserted one of his fingers into me, as his lips found their way back to my clit. He pressed his tongue up against it, then licked along all the while moving his finger in me. He added a second finger, which was enough for now. He went back to sucking and his fingers fucked me faster than before, my hips meeting his pace. As his tongue once again lapped at me, my hips stuttered and in spite of my former promise to myself, I loudly moaned his name and tugged on his hair as I came.

My eyes fell closed for a moment, but when he came to rest beside me, I looked into his eyes. He beamed with pride and licked his lips. Then he kissed me with the fervour, I had missed. I could taste myself on his tongue and sighed into the kiss, making him chuckle.

“Did that feel good?” he asked mischievously.

I beamed at him and let him have the glory. “No, not good. Amazing.”

I had never seen the joy that spread across his face before, not on Ivar, and it made my heart jump a little.

“Gods, Ivar, I do love you.”

He chuckled and nuzzled his nose in the crook of my neck. But I was more interested in something else. I slowly let my hands wander across his body, felt his abdominal muscles contract beneath my fingers, until I reached the helm of his pants. I heard his breath catch, but he did not stop me, as my hand dipped into the front of his pants and touched his almost totally hardened member. My hands closed around his shaft and started to move gently back and forth and I could hear the change in Ivar’s breathing. He did feel something. His hips started to move in time with my slow strokes, became a little more demanding after a while, as I felt his prick harden a little more. He moved with me and after a while I let my finger swipe over the tip and then pump him a little faster. Ivar’s breathing became eratic until the movement of his hips stopped and he gave it one violent snap of his hips and shuddered. There was only a few driplets, but Ivar still seemed content and happy. It wasn’t much in the way of a climax, but it was more than nothing. I looked at his face a little worried.

“Did I make you feel something?” I asked him, shyly.

He smiled back at me. “You always make me feel something.” He gave me a kiss.

“No, I mean… did that… did that feel good for you?”

He sighed, then hummed contently. “Yes, yes, that felt very good. One could even say…amazing.” A cheeky grin spread across his face, when I looked at him a little outraged, and his eyes only sparkled with humour, before he kissed me again.

“Y/N, I will never have sex like other people do, but this? This was enough. For once, pain has not been the predominant thing I have felt and that means a lot.”

I smiled a little smile. “Yes?”

“Yes.” He chuckled in my ear. It was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. It was a pity that I would not hear it for years to come.

#ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar fanfic #ivar x reader #ivar imagine #ivar x you #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless fanfiction #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings #history vikings #vikings fanfiction #ubbe #sigurd #lagertha #fates entwined

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rosesinmars · 5 years

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Someone You Loved|Rook + Colson x reader imagine

- Princess! — Rookie shouted, when he got home and saw you lying on the couch in the living room.

- Rookie! — you whimpered when he jumped on you remaining laid over your body.

You were literally doing nothing. The tv was off, and you were just listening to some music. Slim and Baze were both in their own rooms, and Rookie and Colson were out until now. Not that the last one mattered that much, or at least you tried to convinced yourself that way.

‘I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me’

While you were trying to fight your own way out under Rook, Colson passed by you two straight to his bedroom, his new girlfriend right by his side. He didn't even cared to look at you for a second, and you would be lying if you said that doesn't hurt.

‘This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy’

- Blow him. — Rook said, noticing the look in your face. — He's being a totally jerk with you. Want me to kick is fine ass?

‘I need somebody to heal’

Colson, you and Rook were the perfect partners in crime since you could ever remember. Both of them were your best friends, you had an amazing connection with both of the boys and you wouldn't trade it for anything in this world. But for what it seems, not everyone thinks the same way, or feel, as far as you could say.

Ever since Colson started to date with his new slut, your trio went down to two, and the blonde boy... well he wouldn't talk to you, actually he barely would land his eyes on your. It was like you became invisible to him, and that hurt like hell.

‘I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug. I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved’

Rookie otherwise got closer and closer to me. You were barely inseparable, and he himself had already confronted Colson about his attitudes towards you.

- What would I do without you, Rookie. — you gave him a little smile, and he pulled me into a bear hug, placing you on his lap.

‘I guess I kinda like the way you numb all the pain’

- Hey, wanna go to my room and watch some netflix and cuddle? — he proposed with a soft smile.

- Always. — you said and he carried you upstairs to his room.

You stayed there while Rook went to the kitchen to do some popcorns so you two could watch a movie properly. Meanwhile you were searching in his dresser for a t-shirt of him for you to dress and be more comfortable. When you finally found one, you took out your pants, and then your top, and you heard the bedroom's door open when you were half way dressing Rook's shirt.

- Rookie please tell me that you didn't burnt the popcorn agai- — you started but soon stoped as you saw that it wasn't Rook on the door but Colson.

His eyes ran you up and down watching you in Rook's clothes, and you couldn't exactly read the emotions on his face. Colson soon hurried himself to start to close the door and go away, but you shout.

- What the fuck Colson? What is wrong with you?

He stood there, in place, but his eyes far from yours.

- I guess that's going to be like that, right? No talk. I thought we were fucking friends Kells. — you said, using the nickname that not-so-close-people to him called him, and this way you got him to look at you with hurt all written on his face. — Don't fucking stare at me like I fucking hurt you Kells, you were the one placing the cards on the table, now deal with your own damned game! Go run to your new bitch, but don't you fucking dare to run back to me when you get bored of her or when she breaks your heart! — you shouted with tears already running from your eyes.

‘For now the day bleeds into nightfall, and you're not here to get me through it all’

Rook entered the room, passing through Colson and rushing to you, wrapping his harms around you as to try to protect you from the whole world, and you closed your eyes falling in his embrace.

‘And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes. I fall into your arms, I'll be safe in your sound 'til I come back around’

- Get out, Colson! — he demanded, and you had a last look at his broken expression before he left the room. — I'm here babe, forget about that prick.

- Rookie I don't want to get in between the friendship of you two. — you said, sobbing. — I don't want you to take a side, mainly if it's mine.

- Chill princess, I will deal with that bastard later. — the drummer said. — He doesn't deserve your love, he was no rights to treat my babe like this!

- Your babe? — you whispered. You had lost track of times that Rook had treated you with sweet nicknames, but joined it with 'his', that was something completely new.

- I mislead myself, it was a small mistake... I... — Rookie struggled with his words, and still in his harms, you cupped one of his cheeks and connected your lips with his, fearing how he would react.

For your own happiness, Rook instantly tightened his harms around you, losing his hands in your hair.

‘I guess I kinda like the way you help me escape’

- I hope that's still okay with you about the cuddle's session tonight. — you said when you two broke the kiss.

- More than okay, princess. — he answered with a silly smile, that you copied. — My princess.

And with that, he dragged you to the bed.

.°♫♫.°

It might sound weird that you and Rook became a couple who would be corny enough to be cooking pancakes together in the next morning, but honestly, you two were already so used to do so many stupid things together that the attempt to the "flour fight" and to burn the kitchen down wouldn't look so far from what you two were used to do as friends.

You two were now feeding each other with the pancakes you two managed to cook when Slim and Baze joined you in the kitchen.

- Why do you two look so corny today? — Slim asked, slightly confused, Baze looked the same way. — Like, even more than usually.

Both of the boys were used with you two being really really close but that morning the atmosphere around you two were different and it wasn't that hard to notice.

Both you and Rookie smiled at Slim's statement. You really were acting damn corny.

- I don't know... maybe Rook is just too adorable. — you said picking the tip of his nose, and he held your hand and kissed it.

- Am I that high or is my brain sending me weird tips saying that you two are more than friends? — Baze asked, looking at you two like you were both aliens.

- Would that be that weird? — Rook said and touched my nose with his, connecting our lips in a short kiss.

- That's disgustingly adorable. — Slim said smiling.

- But it was actually about time. — Baze stated, and you let your head rest in Rookie's shoulder.

- What is disgustingly adorable? — Colson asked and when he noticed me that close to Rook, he slightly frowned.

- We just saw y/n and Rook kissing. — Slim said. — But it was about time for this two to be together.

- It means a lot that you boys are okay with us. — you said, and Rook wrapped his arms around you from behind, and looked at Colson. The 'get your shit together and start to be nice with my girl or I will kick your ass' look in Rook's eyes, and Colson remained with his broken expression, the same he had last night.

You kissed Rook again and went upstairs to your room for a bit. Some time after, the door opened and the blonde boy entered the division. You avoid to look at him.

- You and Rook, seriously? — he asked. — Is that even a thing?

- Oh he talks now. — you cut the crap. — Let me guess, miss slut snores while she sleeps?

- Cut the fucking drama, y/n. Since when is this going on? — Colson said, now obviously wasted.

‘Now the day bleeds into nightfall, and you're not here to get me through it all’

- Since there's none of your business. — you snap. —What's about all that sudden interest in me? Since I can remember, yesterday you couldn't even look at my face. You didn't think I would just stay here forever waiting and crying because one of my best friends decided that I was better off his life just because of his new whore, did you Kells?

- Don't be so fucking dramatic y/n, it doesn't suit you. — Colson said.

- Dramatic?! You were like a brother to me, you fucking prick! — I shouted. — And suddenly you just cut me out of your fucking life, and now you're telling me to stop being dramatic?! Even if I was screaming my lungs out to express how much of a jerk you are, you wouldn't have the fucking right to tell me I was being dramatic.

- Yeah, yeah of course... — he cut it, with a sarcastic laught. — You are actually telling me that you seriously love Rook. — he kept the sarcastic tone.

- Yes, that's exactly what I am telling you. — you shouted, no doubt in your voice as you let the words out of your mouth. — I do love Rook. He's the best person that I have in my life, because he actually cares about me and he's the sweetest being on this world. And I'm really not interested in hide my feelings for him, and you know why Kells? Because I'm a fucking logical human being who rather be loved than pretend to be an asshole just because he's too afraid to be loved by someone else.

- Don't you fucking lie in my face y/n. — he said coming closer. — Don't you fucking think that I know that you love me?

Coming even more closer, Colson tried to kiss you, but you hurry in pushing him back roughly.

- What the fuck do you think you are?! — you shouted. — Look, if you're done being a fucking jerk get the hell out of my face, and do me a fucking favor and keep your bloody mouth shut next time you see me.

___okay this was a tough one, and I didn’t actually liked the way it ended, but wtv. hope you like it anyway. and yes i will totally change the end as soon as i came up with a better idea ___

12.Nov.19

#hotel diablo #machine gun kelly #jp rook cappelletty #rook #rook cappelletty #colson baker #jp cappelletty #mgk #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly fanfic #rook imagine #jp cappelletty imagine #rook x reader #imagine

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deepphantomstarfish · 3 years

Text

Starting a Tumblr

I stared at the screen in dumbfound shock, realizing, lost in an abyss of wondering why, that I had been brushed off. From friendship, from life, from a girl who I thought was my friend and wanted to see me grow. My thumb hovered over the list of followers on instagram, wondering why. I thought this girl was my friend.

I’ve been on an up and down spiral these past few days locked inside my house and room, the cold whispering in spiraling snowflakes outside my window, leaving me and my family to remain in our own little bubbles once again. I’m surprised I don’t consider myself a ballerina in a snow globe by now, just waiting to be turned to the enjoyment of those around me.

I can’t remember what ‘triggered’ it, what set me off on deciding I was going to go through my instagram followers and those I was following and start trimming off any emotional baggage or weight preventing me from growing. I think I was already considering it for a long time as I’d been getting signs, thoughts, and just thinking in general about leaving instagram for a while due to the toxicity its had on my life and others as a whole. So that’s what I’ve been doing these past couple of days - considering leaving I decided before I did anything too drastic and just pulled a plug all together perhaps following a guide to reduce the amount of people I follow and following smartly might help my negativity surrounding it. But, that’s when I stumbled across something that I never expected and I wasn’t prepared for;

A girl, who I thought I was pretty good friends with, had unfollowed me and I didn’t even know when. I hadn’t even considered it a possibility that she would have, especially because I went to her birthday party just a few weeks ago and had a absolutely great time. I had even spent all day gathering her a gift, a gift I knew I would have loved, of cute trinkets such as a candle, body exfoliator, some super soft soap, and a picture frame with recently developed some pictures I took on my phone when we were still in high school. I even included more thinking that, since it was her 21st I wanted to get her a nice gift as I did with all my friends I appreciated in the past.

But I had to leave the party early, which I told her before I left why I had to leave. Maybe I should have told her before I came to her party but anyway I had to leave early. However, she seemed fine before I left.

Yet, here I am. I don’t know what led me to look under her following list. I’ve felt like a bit superficial in the past few days unfollowing anybody who doesn’t or hasn’t followed me back but if I’m going to be honest I don’t judge anyone too harshly for it. But it does feel so liberating especially considering this isn’t a new thing for me; ever since I was little... I was always the friend put second. And I’d always put up with that. I’d always taken whatever anyone would give thinking the best of everybody. I was always the one no one ever invited not because I was negative I assume... honestly I don’t know why. I never complained though because well I’m gonna be blunt... No one wants to hear the woes of a girl who has ‘it all’ on the outside, living with a/c, electricity, and a bed to comfort her. However, it has always bothered me even though it wasn’t something I could really complain about - being the second girl. The one no one really took the time to remember. Being on the outside I always wanted friends, lots of them. I just wanted what anyone else did - to be happy.

And yet, why couldn’t anybody see? Why was everyone so willing to put me second? To live as though I was fine with being forgotten?

So if I’m going to be honest, going through my social media followings in order to reduce the negativity in my life felt so liberating as the more I just thought - well why not? Let’s just reduce our platform so we don’t have to spend so much time on it, the more I felt like I was starting to put myself first. It was a feeling I... it made me happier, feel freer the more I went on. The rules were twofold- don’t go out searching like some crazed number psychopath. Just next time you get on, the first few people who pop up in your feed see if they’ve been following you, ask yourself what are they contributing to your life or if they are even in your day to day, week to week life. If they aren’t in your life and they haven’t followed you back, you don’t have to keep following them. You aren’t under any obligation, you don’t owe them a thing. Apologies if I sound so shallow and childish. This should be common sense but I guess it took me a while to learn to start taking care of myself.

Anyway, I’ve actually... been enjoying this process of growth I guess. Oh boy, does that make me a sociopath? Who knows, I don’t know. All I know is every time I stopped giving my energy to people who seemingly were on my feed, I was following out of some social obligation, out of hope they might turn around one day and say ‘hey you you’re worthy of my time and attention too! Even though I don’t follow you’, even though in the grand scheme of things this might all be baloney... I still felt. Lighter, I guess. It was so relieving.

But then when I was out last night with my family to celebrate my little sister’s birthday, and decided to text the girl I’m referring to, a girl I assumed I was friends with, if she wanted to celebrate with us at our house later, I didn’t get an answer. I was confused as I’d seen her story the past few days. I’d replied to a few of them to no response. Which wasn’t odd - I don’t blame her, we can’t all reply to people 24/7. Not to mention this is something she’s asked me before and I have always been so delighted every time she’d invite me over, I thought it was time to return the offer. But the longer I continued to check for a response, or to see the usual ‘read’ receipt on the text, the longer I began to suspect something was up.

Could she... have just ignored me? I thought.

No.

No, she wouldn't; I don’t think she’s that kind of person. She wouldn’t just get upset about something and not tell me right? She wouldn’t just drop me from our life?

The thought hit me; check her following.

No, how childish can I be right? It’s just instagram, it’s not like she’d literally drop me without telling me. It doesn’t mean anything. But if that’s the case, then... what’s the harm, right?

I went to check. Low and behold. She was following everyone in our circle but me.

Once again, sorry if this sounds so arrogant. The world isn’t only mine. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.

No warning. No confrontation. I even gave her a card I’d taken the time to write just for her and our friendship. Not even a reply to my text. To this moment, even though it was last night I still haven’t gotten a response and I’m just going to assume I’m not going to because this girl is, whenever she’s not at work, literally on her phone 24/7 and it’s the running joke we have in our circle.

Stunned, I refreshed the page over and over again. Days of finding out who I thought was just stringing me along as a digit in their follower count, of finding out who it was that actually wanted to watch me grow, or maybe this doesn’t mean anything at all and she just doesn’t want to follow me anymore it’s possible... even though I know to her that’s unlikely - instagram means something to girls like this. And, honestly. To girls like me too. No, not the follow count. Not the superficial lies of it all.

Just the truth echoing behind the screens. And this lie was all I needed to see to understand a truth I thought didn’t extend to her -- I was excess. A photographer for her pretty lies. This surprised me because I just, I guess I thought she was better than the other girls who’d come and gone so easily in my life; from grade school to high school, I could tell the ones who reciprocated the energy I gave to them and I thought she cared about our friendship. So, if our exchanges meant so little to her when I thought we were close... if I was the second piece, not someone to support her in everything she did like I try to be in all my friendships,

I was done.

Days of realizing who treated the instagram machine like their own personal game and their actual social circle, I was done trying to pretend like this didn’t hurt me anymore. I won’t lie- this did kind of hurt.

But if she wants to show up and pretend like I didn’t notice, just know; I’m done trying to pretend like people put me second. I am worthy of having people in my life who care about me in my circle, and actually care. If anyone actually reads this, feel free to make fun of me but just know don’t pretend like instagram doesn’t mean anything to some people. I’m learning to downsize mine so it means less. But you know as well as I do there are those out there treating it like their personal wealth machine, dragging their ‘friends’ along like spare bodies to hold the camera instead of actual support systems.

So anyway. Learning to put myself first isn’t going to be easy. Especially when I've been grading myself morally for so long on putting up with others, taking whatever comes my way and going the extra mile for everyone. I still will. But now, as someone who is starting to learn how to have healthy relationships with herself and others for her own happiness, someone who is prioritizing growing in this weird time of my life, I’m going to say fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. But drop me three times, I’m going to be kind to everyone and learn to forgive, but it’s time I start taking care of myself and knowing where my happiness really is.

This Tumblr is my journey. Of life, and my career. I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t know where I’ll be, but if you like this is going to be my journey. In writing, trying to become a successful author hopefully or wherever my thoughts and life takes me. This is my first step in choosing how to show up for myself.

As a reminder, it’s okay to still love other people, forgive and support them. But the moment it becomes at the expense of yourself is the moment you need to take a step back. I hope whoever is reading this knows they are worthy of true happiness, no matter who they might offend. A clean and kind one. This Tumblr is my journey to a healthy life (not a professional guide. Just me, a girl trying to find her way in her own little world), a better me conducive to the mindset and future I’ve always not dreamt of, but needed. If you want to tag along, thank you. I guess the first step to learning how to enjoy life is to let go of all that no longer carries you and to just know that, it’s okay to put yourself first on the road too healing.

I’m not going to pretend like I know it all- I’m just an ordinary 20 year old girl in an odd 21st century. Who overthinks all the time, loves sea creatures and wild orca/killer whale pics, loves books and writing even though her ADDD can be hard to manage still she tries, who wants to write a book even though she has writer’s block most of the time, but is always observing. Always hoping to learn more. A girl who loves God, but has also unfortunately seen the downsides of religion. A girl who for most of her life has wanted happiness, has wanted just for once not to be second place in her own life. This blog, these are my thoughts and this is just my ordinary journey to finding out where I want to be. A place where I can be me, happy and loved in my own life. Tag along if you like!

Thank you for reading this. Even if it literally seems like the silliest most emotionally overblown post about social media (lol), thank you.

#growth #happiness #social media #healthylife

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