#one away from challenge 70! I am dreading it!

[recursivetransformarray]

#rain world #original #videos #rain world spoilers #<- if you don't want to see uhh. challenge 68 I guess? #music is Rigged Game by Machine Girl (from the Neon White OST) #was originally the pizza tower ost but I honestly didn't feel like downloading it at 4am and I like MG better #one away from challenge 70! I am dreading it!

[jimlingss]

Black Waltz [2/2]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 [Finale]

➜ Words: 13.6k

➜ Genres: 70% Fluff, 30% Angst, Butler!AU

➜ Summary: When your parents pass away in an accident, a family secret is revealed. The only person you can trust and rely on is your personal butler, Kim Taehyung.

The train whistles.   A moment later, the wheels are rolling against the steel rails. It starts slow, a gradual chug like a meander through the street that builds up and races past the town.   You rest your throbbing head against your propped up hand, enduring the nauseating nature of the train. Each breath you take is shallow and you feel your skin warm underneath the pads of your fingers. At the same time, it feels cold and the blanket does little to help.   You haven’t eaten much, not like you could even stomach it now. Taehyung keeps fretting over you — you can tell with the way he glances at you every so often, how he takes your suitcase from your hands, how he asks if you would like tea. You’re too weak to argue with him and insist you’re fine.   So you stay quiet, knowing that soon enough, you’ll be home.   And you bear it for six hours.   “My lady?” Taehyung’s brows furrow and you merely nod as he helps you off the carriage. The coachman is paid and thanked and you’re taking Taehyung’s arm for the walk up the slope to the estate.   “When we get home, draw a bath for me, Taehyung.”   “Will do. You should rest—”   “Y/N!” There’s a shrill shriek of your name that aches your head and you lift your eyes to find your aunt and cousin at the black gates. Aunt Marie grabs fistfuls of her red skirt and stomps over to you. “Where did you go for so long? None of your maids let me inside the house.”   “Good,” you exhale and narrow your eyes at the two of them. It takes each of your laboured breaths to speak. “I thought I told you never to step onto the estate again.”   “Y/N, please.” Hoseok comes forward. “I have something important to talk to you about.”   “Can it wait another day?” You’re about to brush past them, but your aunt doesn’t let you.   “Your father would be disappointed in how you treat your only family, Y/N. You’re not a young child who can throw a tantrum anymore, do you understand the consequences of any of your actions? Yet you have the audacity to try to sever our family ties—”   “Her ladyship has spoken.” Taehyung steps in front of you, shielding you with his larger body. “If you wish to speak to her, come another day.”   Your aunt’s teeth grit and venom-laced words are spat out, “How dare you speak to me this way! You’re a mere butler!”   “Stop.” You grab onto Taehyung’s arm, lids becoming heavy as the seconds pass. But most of all, you’re dizzy. It’s hard to keep upright. “Sto..p.”   “A guard dog!”   There are shouts, but the sounds are intelligible as if they’re farther away from them. As if you’re at the end of a tunnel. Your vision dims, black closing in from all angles to the center of my eyes.   The noise of hitting the ground never comes. Taehyung’s caught you in his arms.   //   When you come to, you’re laying in your bed, dressed in silk sleepwear with the covers wrapped around you. You’re weakened, sweat slipping from your forehead and shivering from chills.   “Miss. Arden.” There’s a doctor looking down at you and once Taehyung hears him call you, he rushes to your side. “Miss. Arden? Are you awake?”   The old man is noisy and you muster the strength to lift your hand mid-air. Taehyung immediately knows what you want and helps you sit upright. You lean on your weight on him. “What happened?”   “You fainted,” he murmurs.   “It’s good to see you’re alert.” The doctor smiles and leans down to his briefcase. He must’ve been called by Taehyung. You hear the clacking of bottles. “Luckily, your illness doesn’t seem to be smallpox. Vicious illness that is. Past the age for scarlet fever as well.”   You wonder if you’ll die. You know your health has never been the greatest. “Is it measles?”   He shakes his head, continuing to ruffle through his belongings. “Fortunately, you don’t have a single rash which tells me it’s not one of the sicknesses out there. Ah! Found it.”    Your eyes dart to how he places a bottle on your bedside table and he closes up the latches on his suitcase. The doctor then takes a seat on the chair beside your bed. “Can I ask if you’ve been...anxious recently, Miss. Arden?”   “Why?”   “I suspect the symptoms are arising from your mind.”   Your brows furrow. “You think I am putting on an act and falsifying my condition?”   “Not quite.” The old man smiles. “I believe the anxiousness and stress from your environment is most likely worsening your naturally weak constitution. Many of my fellow physicians don’t believe that such physical ailments can arise by the mental, but I for one…” He taps his temple. “...think the mind can be quite powerful.”   The doctor takes his suitcase. “I have given you medicine to help with the dizziness and your fever, but you must rest, Miss. Arden. If you wish to live a long life to be as old as I am, you must rest, rest, and rest. And perhaps….have a change of scene.”   He offers a kind smile, but before he can leave, you call out to him. “Please keep this a secret. Unless you want to bear the consequences.”   He nods, still with a warm expression. “I understand.”   The doctor leaves and for once, Taehyung doesn’t see him out. He stays right beside you and the room simmers into a quietness. After a beat, you’re moving, shifting the sheets from your body. But he stops you, placing a hand over your hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”   “My aunt and cousin were here, weren’t they? Something may have happened while I was gone. I should at least write a letter to Min Yoongi and find out if the company—”   “Didn’t you hear what the doctor said? You need rest.”   “He was speaking nonsense. There’s no illness that comes from the mind, Taehyung.”   “He’s one of the best doctors in Trulia,” he deadpans, guiding you down against your will. Taehyung pulls the blankets up to your chin. “So stop being stubborn and listen to him. Nothing will happen if you rest.”   You’re too weak to get up on your own and struggling to only make you more weary. You resort to scoffing at him, eyes pointed in a glare. “You’re stepping over the line, Kim Taehyung. You are supposed to obey my every word.”   “Then punish me.”   You huff out at his challenge. He wants to act like you won’t.    But Taehyung can be even more willful than you and he wins when your eyes start to droop. You hear him tell you to ‘sleep’ and like magic, you fall into a deep slumber.   ...   Unbeknownst to the two of you, Jane is creeping outside the room behind an ornate vase, having eavesdropped on the conversation through the crack of the door.    That night, when not a soul is in the corridor, the girl slips from her room and creeps out of the manor. Her steps quicken down the path leading to the black gates, holding a flickering oil lamp in hand to illuminate the way.   There, outside of the bars separating the world from this estate, is your aunt shrouded in the darkness.   “She’s ill. The doctor said the sickness is from her mind.”   The thin lips of the older woman curls and she snickers before it breaks into a full laugh. “It won’t be long before she’s sent to a madhouse then.” She looks at the maid. “Very good. You’ll be greatly rewarded for this.”   “Thank you, madam.”   //   For the coming days, Taehyung doesn’t allow you out of bed except in times for a bath. If it were anyone else, you’d reprimand them. You hate feeling like a child. You despise being coddled like one. But Taehyung is Taehyung and even he knows that you won’t go against him for long.   Sometimes you wonder who the real master and servant is.   “The cook made you porridge. I told them not to add in any thyme. If you don’t want it, I’ll ask them for something else.”   “It’s fine.” You know Taehyung won’t leave until he sees you eat, so leaning on the headboard, you deadpan to him, “Feed me.”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “If you insist.”   He holds the silver bowl, lightly blowing over the spoonful before it carefully meets your lips.   “It’s bland.”   “Too much seasoning will upset your stomach and you won’t be able to take your medicine.”   “I want that doctor dead.”   Taehyung smiles. “If that’s what you’d like, mistress.”   He blows over another dreadful spoonful and extends his arm. Your lips part to eat and he watches you with a tender expression.   “The household funds need to be looked at.”   “I’ll take care of it tonight.” He feeds you another spoon.   You swallow it gingerly. “The company?”   “I sent a letter to Mr. Min. Your cousin’s taken bigger means to try and take over, but as you let Mr. Min deal with it as he chooses, your cousin went away after a police report was made. It’s been quiet for the past few days.”   “He’ll be back,” you sigh when the spoon is at your mouth, but Taehyung doesn’t give up, so you part your lips. He makes sure to carefully wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “And my aunt?”   “She hasn’t returned. I’ll send her away if she does.”   “I need to speak to Detective Jeon.”   “Then I’ll set up a meeting in the week.”   Once you’ve finish the porridge, Taehyung smiles and leans in close to briefly press the back of his hand to your forehead. “What would I do without you, Taehyung?” you murmur, gazing at him.   “Nothing would change. I’d find you anyhow,” he says. “Now sleep.”   You nod and lay back down with your stomach warm and full.    Your lashes flutter shut and Taehyung slips out with the tray in hand.    Taehyung knows you’ve gotten better. But he needs to keep you from being upset, from having to lash out. And he’ll do whatever it takes.    After all, he doesn’t know how much longer your body or mind will be able to take it.   “B-Butler Kim?” He’s stopped in the middle of the hall as Rose rushes to him. He’s always been able to pick her out in the house. Rose is the shortest and youngest, but also the one who tries her hardest — you weren’t wrong in choosing her.   “What’s the matter?”   The young girl’s voice drops into a whisper. “There’s a man at the front gates…”   He nods, posture straightening, steps becoming firm. The end of his tailcoat slices through the air in his strides and he makes it to the kitchen before walking right out of the manor to the front.    There, Jimin and another maid are at a loss of what to do. But the moment they see Taehyung, there’s almost an audible sigh of relief.   “Butler Kim!” Your uncle is on the other side of the gate, exasperated. “There you are! Tell these servants to let me in! I only want to see my poor, sick niece!”   Taehyung moves his head towards the pair and they take the sign to scurry away while they have the chance.   He opens the latches of the gate and the older man’s eyes light up. But instead of being let in, Taehyung slips out. “My apologies, her ladyship isn’t taking guests at the moment.”   “Guests?!” Seokjin is entirely offended. “I am her only uncle!”   “If there is any message you would like to relay, then please let me know.”   “No, I must see her in person.” He shakes his head adamantly and then dabs the area underneath his eyes with his hand. “Poor, poor, Y/N. I hurried here the moment I heard she was sick. I am the only uncle she has and she is my only niece. Who else will care for her but I?”   Taehyung’s arms are placed behind his back. No one sees the way his white gloved hands curl into tight fists.    Yet he maintains a bright smile. “I’ll let her ladyship know that you send your best wishes then. Although...I’m afraid she may not be able to take your words to heart after you sent a man to try to kill her.”   Seokjin’s eyes widen in shock. His mouth drops. He staggers back.   Taehyung’s height towers over him, his smile frightening.   “Y-You!” Your uncle flounders. “You have no proof!”   “But there are witnesses,” Taehyung bluffs with an unconcerned hum. “I’m sure that man would tell you, right? I may have thrown him off the train, but I believe he is still alive and unfortunately, only severely harmed. But I must say, sir, that you chose the wrong person. He confessed it was you quite easily. Who knows what he would say to policemen.”   The older man is flabbergasted, lurching backwards away from Taehyung as if he’s a monster. Seokjin almost falls down, but grips the brick half-wall as leverage.   “The only reason you have yet to be arrested is due to her ladyship’s utmost compassion. But I must say her tolerance is wearing thin and mine,” Taehyung chimes, “no longer exists!”   “T-T-T-This is outrageous! Outrageous, I say!” Seokjin frantically turns around and hobbles away. He glances over his shoulder and flinches when Taehyung waves.   Taehyung then turns on his heel and closes the gate, strolling back into the manor.    For some reason, he doesn’t think he’ll see your uncle for a while.   //   The next day, there’s a knock at your door while you’re seated at your round table, out of bed against the doctor’s orders and much to Taehyung’s dismay. “Come in.”   A certain maid peeks her head inside. “My lady.”   “Jane.” You perk with a smile. “What is it?”   She grins and enters. “I wanted to ask if you’d like anything.”   “I’m fine, thank you. On the contrary, how are you? Is everyone in this house treating you well?”   “Y-Yes.” She dips. “I’m doing well, my lady. Everyone treats me fairly.”   “Good.” You look at her carefully through sharpened eyes. “If I may comment…”   “Yes?”   “You are quite pretty,” you praise and Jane blushes with a modest ‘thank you’. “It’s not often I have someone so attentive by my side, good work. I’ll call on you when I need you.”   “Yes, my lady.” Jane smiles and leaves.    On her way out, she passes by a familiar doe-eyed man beside Butler Kim in the hall. Yet neither man speaks a single word and as she turns the corner, pressing herself to the wall, the door slams shut. There’s not even a muffle or sound.    She curses underneath her breath and leaves before someone catches her.   “I’m sorry to hear you haven’t been well, Miss Y/N.”    Detective Jeon approaches you, taking off his top hat.    “Yes, well, I’ve been getting better.” You look over at your butler who already has his brows knitted together seeing you up. Your expression warms. “Will you get Detective Jeon and I some tea, Taehyung?”   He bows with a hand over his chest. “Right away, mistress.”   Taehyung swiftly leaves as Detective Jeon takes a seat across from you, placing his briefcase down. “I received your letter. I’m sorry to hear Arthur Kahl wasn’t who you were looking for.”   “What’s done is done. Do you have anything new?”   “Unfortunately I don’t have any leads at the moment. I’m still in the process of tracing your parents’ history and seeing if there is anything unusual.”   “If you ever need something, let me know. I am still willing to pay a generous sum for your services.”   He nods and his doe eyes pin onto you as he leans back into the chair. “I must say there is one thing I am curious about.”   “What is it?”   “If I may pry…” He folds his hands together, brown irises sparkling. “What is your relationship with Butler Kim?”   Your brow cocks. “He’s my most trusted confidant.”   The answer comes to mind without trouble. Taehyung is the only person you can rely on. The person you come to if you have trouble. The person who you know will always be there.    He is your person.   “Is that all?”   You don’t know where he’s trying to get at and your eyes narrow. “Why are you asking?”   The corner of Detective Jeon’s lip curls, melting into a pleasant expression and overly boyish smile. “It’s in a detective’s nature to be curious. It’s the reason I’m good at my job, Miss. Y/N. I just find it unusual considering butlers and mistresses aren’t as close as you two are.”   Your face remains stoic. “What are you implying?”   “You probably know perfectly what I’m implying.” With the vase of flowers set on the table, he leans over to fiddle with a petal.   Detective Jeon doesn’t seem the kind to double-cross you, or at least he would never risk his professional name to spread rumours about your private affairs. He seems to be genuinely curious, so you entertain him. “Since my parents' abrupt passing, I’ve succeeded my father’s position and become the head of the Arden house. I’ve also become the target of countless.”   “With power comes unwanted attention,” he chimes as if he’s seen it many times.   “People are trying to kill me, use me, dispose of me every second of each hour. I won’t endanger anyone unnecessarily. I have to look further than such frivolous emotions.”   Detective Jeon lets go of the flower petal, appearing more amused than before. “Funny. He said something quite similar.”   You frown, not sure what he’s talking about. “Did he also tell you to get out and stop poking your nose into things you’re not getting paid for?”   The man laughs. “Will do.”   He takes his suitcase, tips his hat as a goodbye and opens the door. He passes by the man that the pair of you were just talking about, and grins. “Looks like I won’t be needing that tea, Butler Kim. I’ll come back when I have new information to share. Until then…”   Detective Jeon strolls down the corridor and Taehyung looks at you. “That was quick.”   “Never mind him.” You beckon your butler over with a single gesture. “Taehyung.”   “Yes?”   “I’m hungry.”   He smiles. “What would you like to have, my lady?”   //   The Arden manor is distinct. Not just because of its sheer size and that it sits on a stretch of green behind black gates. Or that it’s hidden on an uphill climb away from the bustle of the city.   The roof is steeply-pitched, arches pointed and the front-facing gables are laden with a wooden trim. Each part of the house’s exterior is narrow with sharp edges. It was built many years ago, yet it looks like it’ll be decades before it falls apart. Rather, much of the colour has washed away from the stone.   The interior is no different, frequently decorated in dark oak or shades of maroon, from the carpet to the walls. Sunlight does little and candlelight only casts more shadows from the flickering flame.   The only real colour on the estate is the gardens outside.   “Jimin!”   The gardener looks up, holding shears in hand. “What are you doing here, Rose?”   Said girl is precariously balancing a silver tray in hand, but she still manages to grin. “I’m bringing tea to her ladyship. I just thought I’d take the path outside. What flowers are you trimming?”   “Oh just pruning the rose bushes of the late madam’s.” His expression softens. “Lady Y/N doesn’t seem to care much for it, but that doesn’t mean I can let it become messy. This is the least I can do.”   The twelve year old admires the older man’s earnest personality. Jimin seems to genuinely like flowers and tending to them. “When will they bloom?”   “Surely in the next few weeks and when they do, it’ll look beautiful.”   She can imagine it already. “Would you like me to bring a snack for you later?”   Jimin’s eyes become enlarged in delight. “Really?”   Rose nods with an enormous smile. “There’s leftover bread and cheese in the kitchen.”   “I...I couldn’t. Isn’t that for her ladyship?”   “She wouldn’t mind,” she insists. At the Arden estate, she’s eaten better than she ever did back at the orphanage. Butler Kim’s quite kind as well. He doesn’t mind what’s taken from the kitchen as long as there’s enough for you which everyone makes sure there always is.   “Well alright then.” The gardener eases. “But you shouldn’t leave her waiting for too long!”   “Right!” She hurries along before the tea gets cold. “I’ll come back later!”   Jimin waves and Rose enters through the other door, up the stairs, and down the corridor. She almost spills the teacup at one point as it’s rattling against the tray, but she finds her balance and knocks.   “Come in.” The door opens and you look up from your desk.   The phonograph in the corner of the room is playing a muffled symphony of violins and trumpets. It sounds beautiful, an entrancing melody that makes her stuck in her spot too long before she snaps out of it.   Rose ducks her head and comes over. “Butler Kim told me it’s time for your afternoon tea.”   “He really is bothersome,” you sigh, putting down the document. It hasn’t even been ten minutes since you entered the study. You’re not sure what the point of trying to work is when he’s constantly distracting you with excuses of teatime or insisting it’s time for a walk.   The young girl smiles. “Butler Kim just cares a lot, my lady.”   “I know.”   She places the porcelain teacup down, and her hand is shaky as she tries to pour the tea. It splashes on the outside saucer and she flinches, but you don’t say anything.   “Do you like it? The music.”   “It’s nice.” She admits, “I never got to listen to music much before.”   “You can come in any time to listen if you’d like.” At your offer, Roses eyes become rounded and your mouth tugs. “If all your duties are done, that is.”   “T-Thank you! I will!”   You sip on your tea while your eyes flicker down to your paper. Then you set the cup down and direct your attention to the girl. “Do you know how to read and write, Rose?”   Her cheeks burn in embarrassment as she shakes her head. “I know the letters but that’s all. Even then, it takes me a long time.”   “Bring that chair over then.”   The young maid is surprised, but follows your instructions, dragging the chair beside you. You smile at her, not wanting to admit that it is nice to take a break. Or that it’s pleasant to help someone as well. “Write out what letters you know for me.”   She nods and awkwardly grips the fountain pen.   “You’re missing a stroke. Right there.”   “Right here?”   “That’s right. There. You have it.”   A grin spreads into her face. “Can you teach me how to write your name?”   “Mine?” Your brows lift yet she bobs her head twice.    You’re not sure how much time passes, how long the two of you are wrapped up, cowering over the desk with pens and papers as the handles of the clock ticks away. But then Taehyung’s peeking in through the gap of the door with a softened expression and he reluctantly knocks.   “My lady,” he interrupts. “Lawyer Kim is here.”   “Let him in.” You turn to the twelve year old girl who’s visibly disheartened and your hand strokes the top of her head gently. “If you have some time, then practice. Next time I’ll teach you how to write your own name and maybe we can read a book together?”   “Next time?” She’s easy to read. You can see the way excitement washes over her, how she lights up as you nod and you watch her in endearment as she scurries away with the promise.   //   Each morning the mail is handed to Taehyung by one of the maids and he sets it on your bedside for you to go through. But today as he’s walking to your room and shuffles through them, he sees a fascinating letter from a man named Mr. Mark Carter. His brow quirks and he opens it. It’s not uncommon to go through your letters considering he writes most of your replies these past few days.   But instead of being business related—   To my dearest, Arden Y/N, My thoughts have been full of you in the past days. You are as beautiful…   Taehyung rips the page before any more is read. There’s no need for you to waste your time.   “Taehyung.” You call from the corner as he enters and he promptly places the letters down. He pockets the shreds of the love letter and attends to you.    Taehyung helps you get dressed in front of the mirrors, his long fingers nimbly tying your corset before he’s draping the champagne gown over your frame. “You really shouldn’t be out of bed.”   “It’s been two weeks since we came home, Taehyung. Do you expect me to stay bedridden forever?”   “I could handle all of your affairs for you.”   “I know.” You turn around to face him. “But I don’t want you to.”   “I wouldn’t want you to faint again.”   “I won’t,” you tell him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “And even if I did, you’d be there to catch me, no?”   Taehyung swallows hard and you freeze when he suddenly reaches out. His arm extends and he gingerly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Taehyung gazes at you tenderly. It’s much too intimate. “What would be the point if I don’t see you into your old age?”   The pad of his thumb draws down your jaw before he lets go.   You smile softly, skin tingling from his affectionate touch. “Would you still be attending to me if I were in my old age?”   “Of course I would be.”   “Wouldn’t you want to be married at some point, Taehyung?” You move past him to the vanity, taking your brush through your hair.   He watches you for a moment before he approaches and steals the brush from your hand. He proceeds to your hair gently, the way he knows you like it best. “Who would I be married to?”   “I could find you a good match.”   “And risk not being there when you might need me?”   You look at his reflection. “Then how long do you plan to be beside me then?”   “Always,” he answers.   Taehyung’s gaze is fixed onto yours through the mirror, his eyes softened, hands grasping the strands of your hair. Your breath hitches in your throat as something squeezes inside your chest.   You swallow hard. “Taehyung.”   The corner of his mouth curls into a sly smile. “Hmm?”   “What’s…” He’s such a handful sometimes, but you know to him you’re two handfuls. “….that noise outside?”   “I think that’s your cousin crying.”   “And why is he crying?”   “He wants to meet with you. Don’t worry. It’s handled. He tried to climb the gate but Jimin used his garden rake to push him off.”   You sigh, pitching the bridge of your nose. “Just let him in. I’ll see him.”   It’s easy to tell that Taehyung is reluctant and even surprised at your defeated response. But unlike your uncle and aunt who have some shame, you’re sure Hoseok would be there day and night sobbing on the ground. There wouldn’t be any good done if outsiders start to take notice.   You leave to the parlor to have your morning cup of tea and surely enough, Hoseok runs in while panting. You sort of wish he would’ve knocked over the statue by the archway. That way, you could make him compensate you with his life’s fortune. It would be a funny story to tell in the future, but alas.   “Y/N! Finally! F-Finally! Those servants of yours...they almost killed me!”   “They were following my instructions.”   He’s dejected and plops down on the sofa, frantically shaking his head. “I know that Uncle Seokjin, my mother and you aren’t on good terms, but please hear me out.”   The taste of earl grey lingers on your palette. “You want to take over the company.”   Hoseok’s spine straightens. “Y/N, Uncle Eugene would’ve wanted someone in the family to take over. I don’t understand how an outsider could be the head of the company!”   “Don’t bring my father into this,” you snap. It’s easier to be direct with your cousin since he’s younger than you are. The idea of disrespect doesn’t have to play a big role in your confrontation. “He’s dead. It doesn’t matter what he wants now. What are your qualifications?”   “What?”   “How are you deserving of the job? How do you expect to run an entire company? What have you ever done in your life that you would be able to do those things?” you question with your arms crossed. Hoseok opens his mouth and then shuts it. He knows it himself. The fact of the matter is— “You’ve accomplished nothing. If you want the job so much, then interview for it and start at the bottom and learn.”   Hoseok stands up abruptly. “That’s not what Uncle Eugene would’ve wanted—!”   You’re forced to your feet. “Don’t speak about my father!”   “But—!”   You grip your temples that’s beginning to throb. Your head aches and you’re becoming dizzy.   Taehyung immediately notices and comes to your side, but you wave him off. “Bring him out.”   Hoseok is escorted by Taehyung. The former sighs lowly and walks away without putting much of a fight. Dragging his legs. Shoulders slugging. It’s not like you wanted it to be like this. Your idea of family was never an image of distrust or exhaustion. But this is what you were born into.   Taehyung comes back after he’s left. He searches your expression sternly and shoulders your weight when you lean on him. “This isn’t good. You should rest.”   “I know.”   But as you take his arm, more noises come from the other room. In particular, it’s a familiar voice that can only belong to— “Y/N!”    Aunt Marie stomps inside with Jane trailing behind her with a distressed expression.   “What is the meaning of this?”   Jane winces at your tone. “I thought...I thought since you let in—”   “I heard you were ill,” your Aunt cuts her off, holding her head high. She must’ve run into Hoseok outside, but she makes no mention of it. He must’ve ignored her. “It was only right that I come see if the rumours are true for myself.”   “Well you’ve seen me, now you can leave. I’m not taking guests at the moment.”   Her mouth opens, but Taehyung’s eyes fix on her, holding an intense stare. “If you’ll excuse us. Jane, please lead out Mrs. Arden immediately.”   “R-Right away, Butler Kim.” The maid bows her head and your aunt scoffs, not bothering to follow you. She stays in her spot, insisting on keeping an utterly offended expression.   The room empties.   “That dog of hers watches her too closely.”   “Don’t worry madam,” Jane quietly whispers with a growing smirk. “He won’t be able to save her this time.”   The older woman snorts. “You remember what I told you?”   “Of course. They won’t see it coming.”   She hums a low note. “Be careful. That guard dog is perceptive.”   //   The kitchen is filled with a flavorsome aroma, but it’s a frenzy as the grandfather clock chimes throughout the manor. The cook is rushing all over the kitchen with the kitchen maid, throwing in the potatoes and finishing the beef stew. Even Jane is beginning to become nervous as she watches them. That damn son of a bitch butler won’t be happy if your dinner is delayed a second and she still has to put it in.   There can’t be any more delay.   “Here it is! Finally, done!”   The cook ladles the stew from the pot into the bowl and Jane finally moves before another maid can. “I’ll take it up for her ladyship,” she loudly volunteers.   “Go quickly!”   “Wait! I have to add the parsley,” the kitchen maid shouts.   In the disorder, no one notices how Jane looks both ways and slips a vial out from her apron pocket. It’s uncapped and the clear liquid poured in, dissolving right into the broth. But by then, the kitchen maid is already pushing her aside to add in the parsley.   “There we go.”   Jane disguises her smirk and swiftly takes the tray. She begins to head down the corridor.   But as she turns the corner, she nearly collides with Butler Kim. Immediately, the maid dips her head with an apology and he takes the tray from her. “There it is. What took so long?”   “The cook had trouble.”   Butler Kim turns and strides down the hall. The corner of her mouth pulls.   Jane doesn’t notice how Taehyung looks down into the bowl for a moment.   With the deed finally done, she makes her way to the small dining room next to the pantry meant for the workers to gather and eat. It’s perfect. It won’t be long now until things start to happen and she gets her reward.   She smiles to herself before she’s abruptly interrupted— “Did something good happen, Jane?”   The maid doesn’t know where the voice is coming from until she looks down and sees the twelve year old who she doesn’t even remember the name of. But looking at her big eyes and hearing her nosy question annoys her. Jane snaps, “It’s none of your business.”   The young girl flinches and quiets.   What Jane doesn’t expect is how minutes later, Butler Kim returns with the tray in hand and the food untouched. The colour immediately drains from her face.   “Is there something wrong?” The cook bumbles over in alarm.   “Her ladyship isn’t hungry,” he informs and Jane breathes a sigh of relief, but is still disappointed. She curses inside her head.   “I see.” The cook sighs. “What a shame, it was the first time I tried to make this kind of stew. I thought I would be able to get her ladyship’s opinion.”   “It would be a waste to dispose of it then.” Butler Kim smiles. “Everyone come give it a try.”   Several turn their heads at one another, visibly confused at his unexpected offer but they happily follow along with his instructions. The kitchen maid is eager, anticipating their responses, and spoons are quickly passed around.    But Jane stays frozen on her spot and the butler’s sharp eyes quickly take notice.   “Is there something wrong?”   “I...I don’t think I’ll eat, sir.”   “Why not?”   “I’m not...feeling well. My apologies. I’ll retire to the quarters—”   “Surely a spoonful wouldn’t hurt.” Taehyung stops Jane before she can move to the doorway. Everyone’s eyes are pinned on them and she’s suddenly presented with a wooden spoon and a bright smile. “Don’t you want to give your thoughts to the cook so he may improve his dishes to her ladyship?”   “I—”   “It’s a part of your duties to look after her ladyship, is it not? That includes testing her food.”    “Well—”   Taehyung scoops a spoonful of the stew’s broth and it’s forcibly brought to her mouth. “There’s no reason why you should refuse.”   “Stop—wait! NO!” Her arm comes out to bat at it away from her. “It’s poisoned!”   The spoon clatters on the ground and the bowl shortly follows. It shatters, shards of porcelain spraying across the floor and the yellow liquid splattering against the wall. There are gasps and Jane’s breath heaves in and out of her chest. Sweat is gathered at her hairline and she feels the scrutinizing eyes of the entire household pinned on her.   Butler Kim cocks his brow. “How do you know that?”   “I...I…” Jane fumbles with her words, heat rising in her face, colour fading from her lips.   “This is actually a new bowl from the pot.” The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls. “I would never offer what was supposed to be her ladyship’s to anyone else. So why do you say it’s poisoned?”   She opens her mouth, incoherent words stuttering out, but as she turns her head, searching for an explanation, some sort of excuse, her eyes meet Rose’s.   Jane’s arm instantly extends and she points at the twelve year old. “I saw her put something suspicious into her ladyship’s food! I didn’t know if I saw it correctly, so I didn’t want to say anything. I-I didn’t know she could be capable of doing such a thing….”   “What?” Rose’s eyes enlarge, tears gathering at her lashes. “No! I didn’t!”   “Liar!” Jane screams at her, height looming over the girl. “How could you deny it in front of Butler Kim! Do you have no morals?!”   “Please.” Rose looks at her and then him. “I didn’t do anything like that! Please believe me!”   “What is all this noise?” The shrill cries are intercepted by you entering the room. Jane dips her head as Rose looks to you with pleading eyes. The others ease, knowing you’re here.   Taehyung comes beside you, arm stretched in case you step onto the glass. “One of the maids just admitted something no one else knew.”   “I didn’t do it,” Rose whimpers.   You look around the room and sigh tiredly. You pitch the bridge of your nose and then wave him off. “Leave it be. Surely it’s a misunderstanding.”   “Understood.” Taehyung puts his hand over his chest and bows.   “I’m feeling tired. Bring me to my room, Taehyung.”   He nods and offers you his arm.    Two maids move to clean up the mess as Rose tries to reason with others. Jimin comes to her side, but Jane continues to glare at the young girl. There’s sweat built at Jane’s hairline and her heart is lodged in her throat.   It was close. Too close.   //   For the next few days, you’re afraid Taehyung is becoming more distrustful than you are.   Much to your dismay, he has a bite of your food and a sip of your tea before you get the chance to each time. It’s not as cute as when he did it as a kid — back when he was just trying to get a taste of what he could. Now he’s doing it because he’s overly suspicious.   The last thing you want is for him to become your taster and does in fact become poisoned. There’s not much of a point if he dies and you’re still alive.   But once you make your complaint, he resorts to making all of your food for you, not allowing a single person in the kitchen or to touch your dish. You don’t want to tell him that his cooking is more delicious than the cook’s for fear he’ll continue and overwork himself to death.   “You’re really such a handful,” you mutter, looking up at him.   Taehyung’s brow lifts, wondering where that was coming from.   The pair of you were burning the midnight oil as you were looking over this month’s household expenses and what is left of your personal wealth. He didn’t want you to be here doing work, yet couldn’t protest after your insistence. But in truth, you can’t look over it properly with your mind preoccupied.   You hate seeing Taehyung this way — excessively anxious, on guard, needlessly gluing himself to your side whenever he can. It’s enough that you’re already like that. But you suppose that’s the humorous part. He doesn’t like it when you’re like this either.   You feel like this house is making you both lose your minds.   “Taehyung.”   “Yes, my lady?”   You weakly wave him over. “Carry me to bed. I’m tired.”   “Understood.”   Taehyung leans down and collects you in his arms, an arm beneath your knees and the other around your backside. You lean on his shoulder with your arms looped around his neck, nestling close to him.    He walks to the door, briefly opens it and strides down the hall that’s without a maid or servant in sight.   “How long do you think this will last, Taehyung?”   “What do you mean?”   “Us. Being so afraid and anxious.” You wonder how long you’ll have to be fighting against your relatives and outsiders, if you’ll ever be left alone, if that day will ever come. “Even if I find my older sister or brother, then what?”   “You don’t need to be anxious. I’m here.”   The corner of your lips softly tug and you look up at him through your lashes. Taehyung’s brown irises meet yours in the warm candlelight lamps on the walls. “And let you bear all of my hardships? How could I let that happen?”   “Then don’t bear it all alone.” The timbre of voice is husky. “You can rely on me too.”   “I already do. More than you know.”    If you had no one to truly trust, you would’ve been lost long ago. Taehyung is your saviour.   “You don’t need to worry about what happens afterwards. I’ll go where you go.”   “And if I have no more wealth to my name and I’m unable to pay you?”   “You don’t need to pay me a single cent for me to stay by your side.”   Your gazes meet and his steps slow. It’s much too intimate, and you notice the way his eyes flicker to lips. For a moment it feels like the distance is closing between you and you brace yourself as a kind of sweet anxiousness is sewn inside your chest. But you aren’t afraid.   Then, as your lashes flutter….Taehyung turns away.   His Adam’s apple bobs inside his throat.   Nothing is spoken as the door to your bedroom is opened and closed, and he lays you down onto the bed. “If there’s nothing more you need from me, then rest well, my lady.”   “Taehyung.”   “Yes?”   Your irises connect. There’s pause. A tenseness to the air.    But then you wave him away.    “Never mind. Good night.”   The lights are blown and he leaves while you tug the covers to your chin for warmth.    You’re unaware of how once the door shuts, Taehyung’s back presses against the surface. His eyes close tight and the hands that held you tenderly crumple into fists.   He almost allowed his own desires to overcome his duties to you.   //   The following evening, Rose sits alone in her small room and sighs to herself.    She’s happy that she was brought here to work on the estate. It’s all she could’ve ever wished for — a kind mistress to work for, friends she never knew she’d make, and being able to sleep comfortably with a full stomach. But she didn’t know it could also be this hard.   She really didn’t try to harm you. Why would she when all you’ve been to her is generous and all she waits for are the hours when she’s allowed to sit beside you and taught how to read and write. But she can tell some of the other girls don’t believe her.    She isn’t sure what to say or do to clear her name.   Rose stumbles to her wardrobe and reaches towards the back. Hidden behind a lilac handkerchief is a golden pocket watch. Her thumb runs along the shiny surface and she exhales.   “What should I do, mom?”   The twelve year old doesn’t see the older girl in the hall, chewing on the nail of her thumb, anxious of what to do and how to gain back your favour. And Jane’s eye incidentally turns towards the gap of Rose’s door as she passes.   “What are you doing?”   The door slams against the walls and Rose jolts, startled.   Jane’s eyes dart to the pocket watch. “What is that?”   “It’s nothing!” Rose’s arms jerk behind her back, but it’s too late. The older girl stomps towards her and rips her arm back. She cries out and Jane snatches the golden watch from her grasps.   “You stole this, didn’t you!”   “No! Give it back!”   “Then how do you have something so expensive?! You stole it from her ladyship!”   “I didn’t!”   “Liar. There’s no way you would be able to afford something like this. Your hands are sticky, aren’t they?” A smirk spreads into her cheek. This is it. The way she can gain your trust again. “You’re going to get thrown out tonight on my watch.”   Rose cries as she’s dragged down the hall. She struggles but it’s futile against the older’s strength. Another girl intercepts, asking what’s going on, but Jane pushes them aside.   She’s taken down the corridor, all the way to the study. “Say goodbye to your job, little girl,” Jane mocks and then knocks on the door.   It opens it at your command and Taehyung immediately steps forward the moment he sees Jane yanking Rose’s arm and the latter sobbing. “What is the meaning of this?”   Jane lets go of the twelve year old who has streams of tears staining her cheeks and steps forward. She allows the pocket watch to drop in her hand, holding it by the chain. It catches the light and looks like it glows. “My lady, I just caught this maid stealing from you. I had to report it immediately.”   Upon seeing the pocket watch, you teeter to a stand. The chair screeches against the floorboards.   “Bring it here.”   Taehyung takes it and hands it to you.   It’s a perfectly round contraption, the cover golden, reflecting against the candlelight. But it’s without any engravings, designs or even ridges on the surface. You flip it open to find handles ticking away as seconds and minutes pass. Strangely, on the inside, opposite of the clock is a picture of a beautiful woman you don’t recognize. Most of all, you recognize the surface is worn and there are a few scratches.   Taehyung watches you. Your voice is kept quiet, a mere breath that releases from your lips—   “Where did you get this?”   Jane opens her mouth but your glare flickers to her and the words die on her tongue.    Rose is the one who pipes up, hands scrunched into her dress’ skirt, head ducked down. “It...it was my mother’s.”   “I have a pocket watch like this,” you tell her, rounding the desk and flipping the watch in your hand. “I can tell this is from my father’s company too. At least with the way the handles are crafted and the numbers are written. My father always liked his watches a certain way.”   You continue, “He also never made many golden pocket watches. Certainly not ones without any engravings. It’s much like mine.”   A rush of air escapes Jane’s nose. The corner of her eye moves to the twelve year old who’s quivering in her spot. She is done for.   You step forward, inhaling a breath. “But my pocket watch is cracked.”   Jane’s breath instantly hitches in her throat. Your eyes are pinned on Rose’s face. “I sent Taehyung to fix it for me months ago.”   The pocket watch is not a copy, but a sister to yours.   “Is this really your mother’s?”   Rose nods with a sniffle, unable to understand where this was going.   Taehyung comes beside you, having already caught on to your suspicions. And you lean on him, swallowing hard. “Then if that’s true….you may be the one I’m looking for. You might be my sister.”   “S-Sister?” Rose’s eyes grow wide and a tear hanging off her lash rolls down her cheek. “I….have family?”   It’s all lining up inside your mind and your brows knit together, but you don’t allow it to sink in. Not when you notice Jane’s mouth dropping, how she takes a step back.   “Where do you think you’re going?” you deadpan, turning your head to the older maid and she flinches.   “My lady—”   “You’re fired. Pack your bags. The carriage will take you away.” Your voice drops an octave. “And don’t think of leaving to tell my aunt what you heard here tonight.”   “My lady!” Colour drains from her face. “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about!”   “Do you really think I wouldn’t know about you poisoning my food?”   Jane careens backwards while you take a step forward. “I was framed!”   You ignore her plea, eyes narrowing in on her. “Did you really think I would let go of an attempt on my life so easily?”   She’s frightened. You can tell by the way she shakes.   “Did you think I didn’t know how you would sneak out in the middle of the night to meet my aunt outside those gates?” You loom over the conniving girl. “I knew it from the moment you stepped foot into this house and knocked on my door. Did you take me for being a fool? I let you stay so I could keep my eye on you.”   Jane falls down, back against the wall and puts her hands up to protect herself.    You knew the entire time. After all, you and Taehyung don’t keep secrets from one another. It’s easy to fit the puzzle pieces together that way.   “Taehyung.”   His hand is placed over his chest and he bows. “Yes, my lady?”   You swivel on your heel. “Take care of her for me, will you?”   He smirks. “Of course.”    //   “The story fits,” Detective Jeon tells you as you flip through the documents detailing his findings. “Her mother grew up in London but went to Middlesborough to find work in 1868. The same summer your father went to Middlesborough for work. She passed away during childbirth. ”   You can still remember that summer — you were eight and it was the first time your father left for three whole months. You spent your summer with Taehyung and his father.    “How did she end up in Lennox?”   “The orphanage she was left at shut down seven years ago and the orphans were brought to other orphanages in Trulia. In this case, it was St. Andale’s.”   Your father must’ve found out, maybe through a letter the woman sent, perhaps someone told him. But it doesn’t matter. It’s enough to explain why he would donate so much to the orphanage and how she has a twin pocket watch to yours.   You wonder if your mother knew. If she did, she probably wouldn’t have said anything. It’s not like your father tried to bring her home either. Maybe that’s the reason he left everything to her, maybe he felt a sense of guilt and this is his way of repenting and making up for the neglect.   “What do you plan to do now,” Detective Jeon asks.   You turn your head to him. “Do you think I’m going to kill her?”   It goes quiet and the corner of your mouth curls.    You answer your own question. “No. I won’t.”   Perhaps it’s the sympathetic part of you, but she has no part in this. She has no blame.   You always imagined your sibling to have lived a happier life than you, blessed with their ignorance, without the burden of status. Yet, there to receive the wealth you have spent so long protecting. Perhaps it was envy and anger that conjured such an image in your head. But you didn’t expect your sibling to be worth feeling sorry for. She and her mother were abandoned, and she’s been without family her entire life. It’s harder this way — you can’t be angry at her.   The only person to blame is your father.   “I’ll be sending you over a generous sum as promised. Thank you for the work you’ve done.”   The detective smiles boyishly and tips his hat. “Any time. My services will always be available whenever you need it, Miss Y/N.”   “Hopefully I won’t,” you quip back at him. “I’m quite tired of digging into people’s histories.”   “The secrets never end.” Detective Jeon’s doe eyes twinkle and Taehyung sees him out.   Once all said and done, silence fills the room and you find yourself once more at a loss of what to do. It’s not like you had a plan to begin with. You merely wanted to find who your brother or sister was and get to them before your relatives could. Back then, you didn’t know if you wanted to try to cut them from the will or give everything to them. And now, you still don’t know.   There's a timid knock at the door that interrupts your thoughts and the knob turns. The gap remains small, but you see Rose peeking in.   “Is there something the matter?”   She wears a nervous expression, gripping fistfuls of her dress and she hesitantly steps inside the room. “I...just wanted to see you.”   You’re sure this is as hard for her to get used to as it is for you. She never had a family and you never considered your relatives family. Even when your parents were alive, they were distant. To you, family has always been Taehyung.   You never expected you would have a younger sister.   “Follow me.”   Rose’s head whips up as you brush past her and her steps struggle to keep up as you move down the corridor. You turn the corner, come to the door on the left and enter. “Do you know what room this is?”   She’s been in it many times. It’s where she poured tea, where you listened to music and where you taught her reading and writing. “It’s your study…”   “No. It’s our father’s study.” The words are odd on your tongue. You’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to it. “He used to work in here whenever he got home from work. If you wanted to look for him, he would be here.”   If you shut your eyes, you can still see him behind the desk, never once looking up.   Rose steps forward, able to look around more carefully than when she was just a maid. Her eyes trace against the books on the shelves, the clock on the table, the stacked papers and pens.   “Is there something you want to know about him?”   “Wh..what was he like?”   You lean against the wall, humming a low note. “Everyone called him a respectable man. He was good at what he did. He worked hard, so much so that he never ceased his work. But he was an aloof father.”   The young girl nods slowly and turns around. “Do you hate me?”   You look at your half-sibling, eyes dimmed, expression stoic. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be honest with her. “I did.” She flinches and you look away. “I always imagined I would hate my sibling, but unfortunately, I can’t hate you now that I’ve gotten to know you.”   A cold laugh emits from your mouth and never reaches your eyes. “Funny how fate works that way.”   You stroll to the fireplace, arms hugging your body. “The same day my parents were buried in the ground was the same day I received the will. It promised all the assets, the wealth, the company to you. Do you know what it means to be the inheritor of the Arden family?”   You swivel on your heel, eyes fixed at the twelve year old. “It means people will be coming after you. They’ll speak sweetly, let you hear everything you could ever wish for, and then stab you in the back. Some are more honest than others, but you could potentially fall in love with someone kind and generous, and find out years later it was all a front.”   Her eyes grow wide and you continue, “A maid who saved you today could poison you tomorrow. People are greedy and will do anything to get a step up in life. If there’s anything you know best, it’s the pain of being poor, abandoned by everyone and how desperate that could lead someone to be.”   “I...I don’t want to inherit anything.”   “You have no choice. That’s the way it is.”   “Then what can I do?”   You inhale a deep breath, not sure how to answer. But then your mind strays to a certain man with dark hair, a warm voice and a lean frame who never fails to be by your side. “You find people you can trust.”   “I trust you,” she says within a beat and it startles you. She didn’t blink, didn’t even need a second to think about it. It’s spoken with a kind of sincerity that you aren’t used to from others.   “That’s foolish.”   If there was anyone she should be afraid of, it was you. She’s the black sheep, the illegitimate child, the one who stands in the way of you gaining everything. There are numerous reasons why you should get rid of her and no reason why she should trust you. Yet—   “I don’t think so.” Her gaze is shy but earnest. “You treated me well from the beginning before...all of this.”   “That’s precisely why,” you point out in a cold tone. “I didn’t know who you were. I could just as easily turn my back on you.”   Still, Rose gingerly smiles. Her eyes crinkle and her cheeks puff out. “I have a feeling that won’t happen.”   Your stoic expression wanes away into guilt. She’s naive. But you wonder if it’s such a terrible thing that her world is so rose-coloured when you know what it’s like for everything to have turned gray.   //   Without needing to look up, you can tell Taehyung entered the room. Who else would have permission to come and go without knocking than him, and the way he shuts the door is always soft, his steps even quieter. Your ears are always listening for those small noises.   “Where did you go?”   “I went to pick up the pocket watch from the repair shop. They sent notice that I could come get it.”   “This late at night?”   “Were you waiting for me?”   You can hear the sly smile on Taehyung’s lips and when eyes flicker up towards him, you’re not wrong.   “No.” It’s a lie and by the look on his face, he knows it too. “You’re the one who said you would always be by my side, so I was curious to see you gone.”   Taehyung is amused and you turn your head away from him. “I only left for an hour.”   “You should’ve sent Jimin.”   His smile softens as he approaches with a box in hand and places it on the rounded table you’re sitting by. “They said it was important and if possible, I should come soon, so I thought I would go myself in case something happened.”   “What was it?”   Taehyung gestures for you to open the box. It’s the pocket watch your father gave you in his will and it looks exactly the same as when you first received it. It’s heavy in your hand. “They said while they were repairing the cracked glass, they found out the clock of the watch can be pulled open. There’s a compartment at the back.”   You look up at him, eyes meeting and you pop the front open to the ticking time that’s precise to the second. True as they said, with a bit of effort, the clock opens. And out falls a folded square paper, no smaller than a coin.   Your hand quivers as you rush to unfold it. The letter is aged. It crinkles beneath your fingertips.   You swallow hard, finding your father’s handwriting.   Dear Y/N,   Recently, I went to the funeral of an associate of mine. He was an old friend from back then and helped with the company when it was just myself and your mother. It’s a shame he passed away. Lawyer Kim also has come to ask me about creating a will. I fear I have gotten much older than I realized. Someday, you will come to be surprised at how quickly the years go.   Your mother and I briefly discussed what we wanted for you when the time comes and we are no longer here. It truly made me realize how much of a burden things will be. Your mother reminds me that you have always been a strong child and I must agree. I hope when the time comes and your mother and I are gone, you will know that we have always thought about you.   Arden Eugene    It isn’t an apology letter. It serves little explanation for why things are the way they are.    Your father never makes mention to the half-sibling you had to search for, doesn’t tell you why he left everything for her, doesn’t apologize or express remorse about being so distant.   But the words are sincere, every sentence his own, filled with his spirit. Your eyes sting painfully as the sound of his fading voice echoes in the recesses of your mind and a lump lodges in your throat.   Taehyung softly calls to you and you feel the warmth of his arms.    He’s by your side as you cry.   //   There’s much for you to think about in the days that follow. You’re not sure how many times the grandfather clock chimes and rings throughout the house, how often someone asks you if you’d like to eat something or drink. Of course, Taehyung is the one who always draws your attention and pulls you from your thoughts, insisting that it’s time to go to bed or you should take a walk outside and look at the roses that have bloomed.   Taehyung always takes care of you when you need him most.   And somehow, the spitefulness sewn deep inside of you has lessened. You can feel it when you look around the manor, when you peek outside to the land of the estate, when you wake in the mornings. An exhaustion you thought of as permanent has begun to diminish.   More importantly, you start to worry how you’ll protect Rose. She’s nothing but a scared child and you can only hide this secret for so long. Soon enough, they’ll turn the target onto her.   “Must you protect her?” Taehyung asks.   You know he doesn’t want you to take more onto yourself, to bound yourself to responsibilities that may not be your own. Just as you’d like Taehyung to be free and unrestrained, he wishes the same for you. And it is tempting. To leave her for the wolves, to save yourself, be without obligations, but...   “Yes. I finally found someone stronger than me to continue carrying the Arden name, Taehyung. She can shoulder this burden with me and one day, she’ll be even more powerful than I am.”   It’s simple to assume that she’s an obstacle, in the way of you achieving everything, a smudge to your existence. But after being wrapped in thoughts, you’ve come to understand that the burden of being the sole heir has been lifted from your shoulders. You don’t have to worry if your fragile state ever worsens. With her here, the uneasiness of the future has disappeared.    “Call for Lawyer Kim tomorrow.” The corner of your mouth tugs. “I have a plan.”   He smiles and bows his head. “Understood.”   Your eyes meet again and you place your chin in your palm, arm propped on the table. A smile pulls on your features. “Taehyung.”   “Yes, my lady?”   “How far are you willing to help me?”   “I’ll do anything,” he answers without needing to blink.   Taehyung’s loyalty is undying no matter how many times you ask, but it's been too long since you’ve teased him. He looks far too calm and composed these days for your liking. “Then if I ordered you to strip naked and dance in the city square?”   “I would refuse since it would tarnish your name.”   You scoff lightly and he grins. “If I told you to hold my hand?”   Your arm stretches out towards him and Taehyung closes the distance, coming to cradle your hand gently while he dips his head. “I would be honoured to.”   “What if I wasn’t wealthy, would you still be here?” you ask, voice softening.   “I would.”   “How long are you going to stay here for, Taehyung? I don’t expect you to waste your entire life here.”   His smile is tender, gaze affectionate. “I don’t think it’s a waste at all.”   You scoff again and let go in favour of lifting your arms to squash his cheeks together. His rounded eyes blink and his lips mimic a fish’s.    But rather than a fish, he’s very much like a puppy. Your puppy.   “You know how to sweet talk too well.”   Taehyung’s eyes are the shade of umber. Yet in the candlelight, they warm into a deep hue of honey that you find yourself tempted to stare into for hours on end. Or until midnight when the grandfather clock will chime throughout the manor.   Your hands drop and you lean in to press your lips against his cheek in a soft kiss. You pull away a second later, eyes nervously flickering to him. Taehyung’s visibly taken aback and you clear your throat, diverting your vision elsewhere.    “Carry me to bed.”   It’s just a few steps away — you could walk. But he doesn’t make a single complaint, arms coming to loop around your shoulders and the back of your knees with ease. Taehyung strides over and lays you down on the soft bed, but before he can get far, you tug on the sleeve with a steady command.    “Stay.”   “It wouldn’t be proper.”   “It doesn’t matter.” You muster more of your strength to pull him and he smiles.   “Very well.”    You let him go to blow out the candles and he tugs off his coat, draping it over the back of the chair. You realize it might be uncomfortable for him without his nightshirt, but he doesn’t once protest, so you watch as he loosens the top buttons of his shirt and the ones at his wrist.    You don’t know why you feel so nervous all of a sudden. From time to time, the two of you slept in the same bed as children. But you suppose it’s been a long time since you were children.   The sheets of the bed shift and the bed dips with his weight. You turn your head, vaguely able to see his silhouette with the moon’s cool light coming through the curtains.   You grip the edge of the covers. “Taehyung?”   “Yes?”   “Shall we tell scary tales?”   You savour the sound of his laugh. “So you can’t sleep and I’ll have to be here for the next few nights?”   “That doesn’t sound so bad,” you murmur and turn your body fully to face him, hand pressed underneath your head. “Taehyung?”   “Yes, mistress?”   Your brows furrow and you deadpan, “Call me by my name.”   It’s silent. His breath hitches and you nibble on the bottom of your lip. When you first met, he called you without restraint until he was taught otherwise. It’s been years since you’ve heard the syllables of your name with his husky timbre.   “Properly,” you add.   “Y/N.” Taehyung shifts his head to look at you in the comforting darkness. He enunciates it carefully, in a murmur, as if he’s afraid there won’t be another chance. “Y/N.”   Your chest warms and heat is brought to your cheeks.   The quietness simmers and your lashes flutter, eyes becoming heavier and heavier. “You don’t have to worry about my reputation or tarnishing my name, Taehyung.”   “I don’t want to cause you harm in any way,” he says.   “I know.” Your fingers come out to gently brush the strands of hair away from his forehead. “But soon, we won’t have to be under the scrutiny of so many or worry what will happen tomorrow. Those things will cease to exist. When that happens, will you still be by my side?”   “Of course.”   “Then it’s my promise to you.”   He smiles faintly, trusting in your promise. “I’ll be patiently waiting.”   The two of you doze off and fall asleep. Throughout the night, Taehyung’s arms reach for you and you nuzzle into him for warmth. It’s the best sleep you receive since you can recall.

The room is large.   You’re not sure if it’s because all the furniture is being taken, or if it’s from the bright sunlight coming through the windows now that the heavy curtains are gone. Perhaps it was always this large and the clutter was simply too much.   “Please watch the vase.” Jimin, the good-natured man, is fretting over the men. “It is very expensive!”   You never liked this house much. It’s always been dark. The wallpaper is a deep shade, black trim that matches the hardwood. Every inch of this place is ridden with wealth, the golden chandeliers, the ornate carpet to the glass cabinets full of antiques. It’s quite unnecessary.    While each room is filled with memories — from your childhood spent with Taehyung chasing your giggles and your parents striding in and out of rooms — you’re glad to leave it all behind.    You can finally let it go and free yourself from its binds.   “Y/N!” There’s a stampede, the familiar voice of your dearest uncle. You come to the entrance where your aunt and cousin are fervently following after him. A maid has a panic-stricken face but you lift your hand, allowing her to be dismissed. They must’ve seen the movement, heard the news. “What is happening?!”   “I’m selling the land.”   Your aunt steps forward, mouth fallen agape. “What?!”   “I’ve decided this estate has gotten old.” You stand tall, arms behind your back and for once your stoic expression is marred by a smile. “Trulia’s not where I want to be anymore either.”   Hoseok’s brows are furrowed deep enough to wrinkle permanently. “How?!”   You look at Uncle Seokjin. “It might be time for you to reconsider who your favourite niece is.” You turn to beckon Rose over who’s peeking out from the corner of the other doorway. “It’s okay. You should meet them at least once.”   She approaches timidly, dressed in a fine pink gown that only wealth could buy and your relatives furrow their brows in confusion. She steps beside you and you finally give her a proper introduction. “This is my younger sister, Rose.”   “Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”   Aunt Marie’s eyes widen. “Impossible.”    “No. It actually isn’t.” You squeeze your sister’s shoulder and she glances at you with a small smile. “I managed to find her and I’m handing all the assets and the land to her as planned. I should fulfill my parents’ last wishes, no?”   The surrounding furniture continues to be lifted and taken out by the shuffling workers to be sold and auctioned — from the paintings to the sofa. All you’ll have by the end is a suitcase packed of some clothing and the pocket watch your father gave. You don’t need anything else.   “But it’s still not possible.” Hoseok’s voice quivers. “She’s not married and of age!”   A man you know well interrupts, coming from the dining room. He clears his throat and everyone turns to regard the suited lawyer. “It is quite possible.”   Your aunt meets him within a single stride. “Lawyer Kim! Explain this immediately!”   Lawyer Kim shifts uncomfortable in his spot, putting his weight from one foot to the next. “Well, it wasn’t particularly complicated, but Y/N, here, has become the legal guardian of her younger sister, thereby, allowing her to collect the inheritance. She can liquidate, remove, expand or withdraw as she chooses. That...includes selling the estate and moving elsewhere.”   Aunt Marie swivels on her heel and practically seethes, “She is still unmarried!”   “We’ve gotten married.”   It’s a husky timbre with a certain warmth to the tone that speaks. The room spins around at his voice, commanding the attention of each person, old and young. But Taehyung’s eyes are met with yours and the corner of his mouth is quirked as he descends the stairs, hand skimming along the banister.    For a second — the thinnest handle of the grandfather clock being taken away ticking — no one breathes.   But then Uncle Seokjin breaks out into laughter. Aunt Marie abruptly turns to Lawyer Kim to confirm what was just said. “Is this true?!”   “Yes, I was there as a witness. They wedded three nights ago at the church. It was a brief but intimate ceremony, I must say.”   Your aunt is completely appalled. She blanches, features crumpled and her head slowly turns to face you as if you’ve committed the greatest sin. “You really dared to marry a mere butler? Y-You should be ashamed of yourself! What would your parents say, Y/N?! What would they do?!”    “It doesn’t matter. They’re dead,” you state blankly. “And he is more reliable than any man I would ever come to know. I would appreciate it if you would treat my husband with more respect. He is a member of the Arden family now.”   Taehyung comes to your side and you take a glimpse of him, a small smile emerging on your lips.   Aunt Marie shakes her head, violated and exasperated at your presumptuous behaviour. “I have no words...absolutely...no words. How dare you.”   “I learned from the best.” You smile at her. “Sometimes you must do dire things when the circumstances call for it. Am I wrong, Aunt Marie?”   But really, this is far from dire. You feel like this is the best decision you’ve made since your parents passing. It will be a new start. All the workers will be paid generously for their time spent here. You know many are sad to part, but they’re happy to see you lively again — at least that’s what Jimin told you as he held his hat to his chest and smiled gently.   “And what about the company?” Hoseok rushes to ask.   You shift to him. “There’s no one more suitable than Mr. Min to carry on. So I’ve sold it to him. I trust that he will do great things with the company and he’s promised me to do so as well.”   Hoseok instantly pales.   Your Uncle comes forward with feigned worry. “Where are you going?”   “I haven’t decided. But it will be a place where you’ll never be able to find me.” You want to go far away to a place where no one knows your name. Where they’ll be no scrutiny, no newspapers. Where you’ll be free of the responsibilities that have plagued your mind and made you ill.    “If you wish to contact me, you’ll have to go through Lawyer Kim first,” you deadpan. “I can’t assure my letters will be frequent as I’ll be somewhere distant, where no one will be able to take advantage of my precious younger sister until she becomes of age and naturally marries. They’ll inherit it together without worry that the relationship was built on greed. I’ll make sure I see myself to that.”   You look at your aunt directly. “I’ll ask as well that you not try to plant someone under my roof as I’ll find out.”   Her mouth draws open, face reddened. “You ingrate!”   Her hand raises, arm extending back. But before she can slap you like she wants and knock your head to the side, Taehyung snatches her wrist. He’s faster than anyone can blink and he clutches her back, glare boring into her skin.   Her teeth grit and she rips back her hand to her chest.   You turn on your heel, looking out the window. “I hope you don’t take this all to heart. I’ll always wish the best for you, Aunt Marie, Hoseok, Uncle Seokjin. That’s what my father would’ve wanted.”   Your aunt shakingly exhales, “I can’t believe this.” At the same time, Hoseok collapses against the wall, entirely stunned and your uncle presses his hand to his forehead.   Your hand comes onto Rose’s shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. You look at Lawyer Kim who smiles and then your smiling eyes meet your husband’s.   Today’s the brightest morning since you can remember. The grass is verdant, air is crisp and the sky is a strong shade of azure with the sunlight piercing through the wispy clouds. It’s noisy, but you don’t mind so much.

The train whistles.   The wheels are rolling against the steel rails, chugging along. There’s a bustle inside the cart, families and lovers sitting together, children rushing past. But you watch the storm of verdant out the window, the fields and trees flashing by.   You’re not so sure if you’ll stop at the first platform or the second. But when you do, you’ll take your packed suitcases from overhead and be on your merry way, disappearing into the crowd.   Your eyes stray from the window to the pocket watch in hand. You’re loosely holding the golden chain of the watch, studying it as it swings back and forth. It’s like a clam, but without any engravings, designs or even ridges on the surface. It’s heavy, perfectly new and polished, the time precise.   It’s your most prized possession.   It brings memories of the times your father did look up from his desk at you, when your mother would turn with a smile, how that manor allowed you and Taehyung to run through its halls.   Rose is asleep across from you, eyes shut and breaths leaving her parted lips. She’s much too unguarded, but you’re not sure if that’s something you should try to change or protect.    She tired herself out after being excited to leave Trulia. It is her first time leaving the country after all and she was practically pasted to the windows with wide eyes. You’re happy that you can be here to watch her. It’s still difficult for you to get used to the fact that she’s your sister, but you’re sure with time, she’ll become one of the most important people to you. She is your family.    With a soft smile, you stand and slip the pocket watch into your pocket.   You walk down the cart of the train to the door. It’s heavy to open, but once you do, the wind whisks through your hair and Taehyung turns around.   The three of you chose to sit at the end of the train where there’s a proper place to stand outside and watch the tracks fade away over the curves and horizon. But there isn’t anyone out here aside from, probably because of how chilling the wind is.   You wrap the shawl around you tighter.   “What are you doing here?” Taehyung asks with furrowed brows. “Aren’t you cold?”   You shake your head and join his side at the railing.   He looks at you. “Are you feeling nauseous?”    “A little at the beginning, but it feels a lot better today. Maybe I’ve gotten used to it.”   Taehyung smiles, traces of relief on his expression. Your eyes gaze into the profile of his face, from the dark strands of his hair brushing his forehead to the slope of his nose and the dip of his cupid’s bow. Sometimes you wonder if you’re in a daze, but you realize you married this man.   You held Taehyung to the promise that he would do anything for you. And in return, you’re fulfilling your own promise — by going to a place where you can be together. Where it won’t matter what he was or who you are.   “I didn’t marry you just to get the inheritance, Taehyung,” you tell him while looking ahead at the passing trees. “It was a way to protect everything I care about. Including you.”   His soft smile is heard in his voice. “I know, my lady.”   You shift on your heel, facing him with a hardened expression. “But that’s not all. I married you, Taehyung, because I wanted to go somewhere new with you and escape the titles that have bounded us to our duties. I don’t want to be treated as the lady of the house anymore. I want us to be equals.”   Taehyung sighs lightly and steps closer to you until your bodies are practically pressed together. He has no hesitance. There’s no longer a worry of anyone watching. “That’s impossible.”   Your face falls.   He continues, “I’ll always feel a need to serve and protect you, Y/N. My father left me with that responsibility. It’s a part of my legacy to care for the Arden family.”   You desperately search his expression. “Then is it impossible to be together? Everything that we’ve gone through together. All this time. Everything that I did — is it really impossible?”   “It isn’t,” he murmurs in a warm voice that you’re taken aback by. Taehyung’s face softens and he lifts his finger to gingerly brush away a strand of hair that tickles your cheek. “Those two things don’t have to conflict. And if that’s what you wish for, then I’ll follow you until the end.”   The corners of your lip tug. “Is that a promise?”   “It is.”   You hold out your hand. “Then join me in making my wish come true.”   Taehyung smiles and his plush lips kiss against your knuckles, swearing his loyalty to you. Not just as a butler, but also as your husband.   The two of you gaze at one another as you lean into him and Taehyung’s arms hold you. It feels warmer than you could’ve imagined and it’s all because he’s here by your side forevermore.   The train rides off into the distance until you’ve blended into the scenery.

#bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts reader insert #hope y'all enjoy this final instalment #the romance is much more subtle than I'm used to writing #but it's nice to change it up

[leoswritingcorner]

Dru and Aaron content cause @randomheadcanons asked a billion years ago and now I’ve provided 😘

Aaron isn’t sure still how he allowed Drusilla to convince him to let her give him a ride home. She did claim vampire hunters where more becoming more rampant, and it was raining…

“Come to my house,” Drusilla insists again. Music blares loudly from the radio speakers. “We can lie away a drunk, have a nice night cape..” she goes on, smiling sweetly. “I can show you after how much better I am then my sister, too.” She adds lowly, her eyes glancing to him.

Aaron’s grips his fists, his exasperation growing. “No.” He answers firmly. “Just take me home.”

“But I have a new silk set,” She tries with a pout. Aaron rolls his eyes. “I want you to see it!

“And I want to go home,” Aaron replies shortly. Maybe it was his complete irritation that led him to say “to Desdemona. My girlfriend.”

The air became heavy in that moment.

“Do you want me to hit someone, Aaron?!” Drusilla shouts over the thumping bass. The car makes a piercing screech over the sleek street as she jerks the steering wheel violently.

Aaron’s eyes grow wide with horror as the neon headlights shine on a woman and child. They only have time to look into the car as Drusilla lays on the gas.

“Drusilla! Please!” Aaron yells, his throat going raw. He wonders if he can fling himself out of the car and grab them. Would he even be fast enough? Before his hand could move for the door handle, Drusilla veers away at the very last moment. Aaron could clearly see the very fear in the woman’s eyes as the car speeds by. With his muscles still tensed, Aaron slumps against the seat. “You’re mad. You’re completely insane…” He mutters, covering his face with both hands.

Drusilla’s knuckles turn white, her grip shaking on the steering wheel. “Say that again, Aaron.” She challenges. Her voice is calm, yet in no way veiling the deadly tone it carried.

A heat of anger flies through Aaron’s chest, and he turns his head to face her. Drusilla’s eyes remain on the road. Blood is seeping from her lip, obviously from biting into her lower lip.

“SAY IT AGAIN!” Drusilla screams shrilly, her eyes wild when her head twists towards him.

“YOU'RE INSANE!” Aaron bellows without a thought.

The music fills the dreadful void of silence between them for a moment. It’s broken by a sharp and biting laugh from Drusilla. “Insane…” she repeats to herself. “Insane!” She hits the steering wheel and lays on the horn. “Insane! Let’s show these humans just how insane I am then!”

Aaron feels his stomach drop as the car veers off once more. Over the median, and into oncoming traffic. Blinding headlights and loud horns fill his senses and Aaron nearly feels human again as all his vampire instincts seem to vanish. Drusilla speeds through the cars, and opens the window, yelling out, “He thinks I’m insane!”

When the last car passes, she turns the car furiously at an intersection. “I hear lots of humans cross this way,” Drusilla says, grinning widely. “Let’s see how many are fast enough…or I can always just ram us into a building.”

Aaron’s hands tremble as he reaches for her slowly. “D-Dru, I’m sorry. Please, just stop.” He tries gently. His throat aches from the yelling. His eyes scanning the street for anyone who could end up in danger. “Don’t hurt anyone.”

“You called me insane, Aaron.” Drusilla hisses, her foot becoming heavy on the gas once more. A group of humans stood by a bar unaware. 60 miles...70 miles….80 miles…

Aaron can only close his eyes tightly.

The crashing sound of metal echoes through his ears and the car jerks to a violent halt. There’s screaming and commotion outside.

It’s when Drusilla swears and screams that he dares to open his eyes. A shaky sigh passes his lips.

Desdemona removes her hands from the totaled good of the car, and dusts them off. The humans stand mere feet away behind her, unharmed.

Aaron’s short relief fades when he sees the deadly fire alight in Desdemona’s eyes. They stay on Drusilla.

“You ruined my ca-” Drusilla starts, fumbling out, a crack drowns her out and her head lurches back, when Desdemona’s fist slams into her face.

Aaron quickly leaps out. The humans by now where watching, talking loudly, and the sounds of camera shutters at work fill the area. A police siren echoes from the distance. “Mona…” he starts, looking at her. Desdemona stands over Drusilla, fist clenched.

“One more time,” Desdemona warns. “I’ll rip your head off myself.”

Aaron touches her shoulder. They share a small look before running into the darkness of the alley way and then vanishing all together.

#aaron shepard #drusilla cromwell #bad editing i a #m so sorry

[everydayanth]

Some Observations On Talking About Race With White People:

Context: I am a white person. I studied anthropology and then went and traveled all around the US and talked to a lot of people about race. With so many people urging white people to use their voice and privilege to begin discussions with other white people in the wake of George Floyd’s murder, here are some things that I’ve learned:

1. It is exhausting. 

You have to start from the most simple kernels of truth and work backwards from there with a lot of people. Many of whom have never in their lives thought about their skin color and what it means or says, who have never questioned their position as a majority or been in a society that asks them to. You start with the basic pieces and talk in circles for them or else they dismiss you. You feel like shit but laugh at some of their jokes so that you can talk about the issues or else they’ll just leave and dismiss the idea as liberal or you as a millennial, you understand the push and pull and the tug-of-war game you’re playing, but it’s still exhausting. Maybe you have a breakthrough and it’s worth it. But it doesn’t end. You might make progress one day and the person reverts back to old habits the next. But you keep going. You keep trying. 

Keep trying. People change.

2. Keep trying, but stay safe. 

There’s a lot of psychology involved, and knowing how to get through to someone is a skill but can be dangerous. Facing that obligation to talk to people in the face of racism and violence can give your courage, but sometimes it can make you stupid. Sometimes walking away is important. Sometimes simply not laughing at the joke is enough because there is no place to start. Sometimes you wish you could peel off your own skin because you don’t want to look like them, you are horrified at the idea that someone might think you are like them, there is a dread and that’s okay. It’s good, it means you are not like them because of your fear. When challenging people, especially in their psychology and philosophy and the way they think about life and the world around them, it is enough to keep trying. Sometimes to keep trying, you have to walk away.

3. Context matters.

In order to romanticize eras and think nostalgically of times when they were not alive or don’t have full context of, some white people will ignore the extra efforts minorities had to go through to fit in, and the silenced violence and struggle. For many older white people, individualism is a threat and they value homogenous cultural identities, romanticizing pop-culture eras like the 20s or 50s without stopping to reflect on the media/historical interpretation vs reality. There is a pervasive view that there was less racism in the 80s, or another era around then, because there was a predominant popular culture, without ever taking the time to stop and consider the extra lengths minorities had to go through to fit that culture, or how they were limited in representation and ability by a larger oppressive system. I really like the quote going around by Will Smith that “racism isn’t getting worse, it’s getting filmed.” But for many white Americans, what they see in the evening news and on their personalized social media feeds does not challenge them, but reinforces their bubbles to say “no, it wasn’t like this in the 50s/60s/70s/80s.” 

There are plenty of ways to trick our minds into believing our own world views to avoid challenge or growth, and for some white people, reminding them of the biases of their context with details like: in 1929, Martin Luther King Jr., Anne Frank, and Barbara Walters were all born; with something as simple as that, contemporary familiarity has been added and placed over two names so heavily associated with the Civil Rights Movement and WWII for American-educated white people. Or talking about Ruby Bridges walking into a white school in 1960 and how many of our parents and grandparents were alive at the time, helps recognize that this isn’t new and it’s not that old. Explaining why the southwest US is so “Mexican” because when the US bought the land there were people living there, and asking about why they thought the land was empty (”history books/class”) and what they thought happened to the people (”I never thought about it”) has been the beginning of a redemption arc for several people. 

Talking to ignorant white people about what’s currently happening in the world when they ignore it forces them to think about it. Keeping police brutality and racism in conversation forces people to look into it for fear of not contributing to social conversations or not being in the know, and having those conversations face-to-face means they are more than random tweets or social media opinions. Talking matters, conversations matter, context matters, and challenging people (and yourself) and their ideas and world views matters.

4. Sometimes you lose.

There is a comfort in a homogenous society, an easy way to spot the outsider. Many of the most racist people I’ve met and chatted with retain an us-vs-them mentality that happily accepts POC who they know personally, while generalizing and labelling all others as a threat and outsiders. There is a fear perpetuated by false information and lack of context that takes so long to dismantle it hardly feels worth it.

This mentality is often recognizable by its discomfort with language it doesn’t know, obsession with brands and their perceived identity, and patronizing explanations of just about everything. It takes so much patience to get through the arrogance and sometimes the other person is “just having fun” or “playing devil’s advocate to see what you really think” or “you should read x, y, and z, then you’ll get it.” There’s an arrogance sometimes and wading through that muck to get to the bigger problems can take a while. Spotting the hypocrisy can be infuriating. 

It’s okay to stop and take a step back out of fear that you might hurt someone else by changing the person’s limited-accepting view. For example: by challenging a racist person ranting about “China is bad” and asking then why they accept their kid’s Chinese friend, you may fear risking that child’s friendship as the racist person talks themselves into believing they shouldn’t be friends. Sometimes letting a person rant about the exceptions to their view is a place to start a conversation about diversity and tolerance and acceptance and culture, but sometimes walking away defeated is more important and okay.

5. You are combatting fear and it isn’t rational.

The fear of losing authority extends a strong arm into political language, rhetoric, discourse and control. The fear of being controlled by masses and not having individualism, even while forcing others to conform, is an irony many willingly admit and agree with through that paternal view: I can be contradictory and demand free speech without consequence while telling you to stop with threats of government/legal action, but you can’t. There is a paternalism that stems from privilege and religion. It is exhausting to combat. It says drug users need to be locked up because it’s what’s best for them; it says abortion is wrong because I believe in a soul, because I am Christian, because my church says there is a soul present, and so my religion says it is wrong, therefore I want it illegal because of that and I know what is best for women. It says girls who are assaulted asked for it because paternalism requires a solid foundation of black-and-white truths in order to determine right or wrong and good or bad. That mentality struggles to see grey, to understand their own biases and why the political language matters in the first place. 

This means it is often in favor of other black-or-white extremes such as strict gender roles, anti LGBTQ+, or anything else like race that involves a spectrum of identity values rather than a scale of one side or another. This also means there is more room for conspiracy and ungrounded theory to fill in, because a black-or-white mentality demands explanations for things it can no longer explain through the denial of spectrums – if you look at the color purple and have to decide if it’s red or blue and those are your only options, you have to have a reason to put it one place or the other, but regardless of the reason, both may be true since color doesn’t exist on a one-or-the-ther scale but a spectrum. This means there are reasons for their way of thinking, but they are often not logical or expressible in language that makes sense or discourse that can be dissected; it is devoid of introspection and often projects and lashes out at language and the way something is presented rather than the thing itself. Learning to get around that with simple examples of context and explanations that don’t rely on academic language is crucial to communicating with some people.

6. Being an ally is not easy, you have to listen and be willing to fail and grow.

I was ignorant at first, when talking to POC friends (and probably still am in some ways). I didn’t understand that I was unfamiliar, as a white person talking about racism and social issues, until a POC friend confided that they’ve never heard a white person capable of talking about race or understanding the complexities of the scale before. Suddenly I understood the generalization that white people are stupid and privileged. We built a bridge between us, simply by being open to a conversation about race, and then by later realizing and respecting that my openness will be challenged at first, because the majority of experiences for my own POC friends at the time were white people being ignorant or dismissive of race. I am not infallible, I make mistakes, but looking at how and why is the part that matters, and realizing that I also represent an experience and a race, and that I also have expectations, was an important moment for me. Understanding the balance of influence and being able to face it without the intent to take, but with the intent to understand, is important. Starting from the understanding that we all have biases, we are all racist based on our context in the sense that we judge people to protect ourselves, and that skin is a visible marker we often use for culture and heritage, we begin understand race’s role in modern society, and then we can talk about it. 

I will also admit this was a point of pride for me. I am white, but I tan well and have dark wavy hair and my grandparents are immigrants so I know my heritage cultures. I have been mistaken for many ethnicities based on my location and other identity markers like clothing and body language, which initially made it easier for me to personally talk about race with others without waiting for permission, because I can relate. White women have walked up and grabbed my hair before, I have been in embarrassing situations where I didn’t match the expected environment or was judged for not properly coding-switching my language. I have been the only white person in many rooms, growing up in a black neighborhood; I have experience with poverty and was on the same free hot-lunch programs as my neighbors, and we avoided the same corners and colors together; I have been accused of trying too hard and not enough, talked to in random languages on the street with expected understanding, and I have a conservative family to remind me over and over again how hard I had to work at building this mentality and how oddly lucky I am that the world around me and my own curiosity made me constantly question those views. 

It’s important to choose your battles and learn from your mistakes, to recognize your growth, to question and doubt yourself, but one of the most important things I’ve come to learn about being white and talking about race with POC is the ability to empathize without needing to relate. You don’t need permission to talk about race. You are one. Everything I said about my experiences just now? At the end of the day, I learned, none of it matters. It doesn’t matter where I grew up or what my experiences are, because I can’t relate to everything and knowing the limits is important. But the other side of that is knowing how to relate to the end emotion with empathy, even in your limitations. You can’t relate with everything and that’s true for everyone, but you can try to understand people and their emotion, you can empathize without first-hand experience by being vulnerable.

Many conversations that I’ve had with white people involve the insistence that they are more than white, like what I just did above, to prove that I can have a seat at the table: look at all these exceptions I have, validate my experience. That’s not important, and I’ve found time and time again that white people (myself included at one point) value that, first out of fear of being insensitive and racist, but also out of a fear of being rejected and invalidated. The best conversations I’ve had with POC about race had to start with me validating myself and my own experiences with an open mind, ready to understand theirs. 

If you are white and you look to join or start a conversation about race with validation from others, that’s not starting from vulnerability or the potential that you’re wrong, it’s starting with the expectation that they give you something, and that never invites understanding or sincerity from either side. You have to be willing to learn and be wrong and know where you stand on your own, with your own validation, before you can begin to talk with others about their experiences or understand and empathize and grow.

You have to be willing to shine a light instead of be the voice. The best example I have of this is the 1968 Black Power salute. Sympathetic to the cause of fellow athletes Tommie Smith and John Carlos, Peter Norman, the bronze medalist and a white Australian, asked what he could do and he listened. They asked him not to raise his fist. In solidarity, he wore a pin, opening himself up to the harsh criticism of conservatives at the time. He was willing to suffer the backlash without demanding a role in the symbol, and I think that by doing that, he shows how to be an ally, how to talk about racism and listen and understand the meanings behind things. When Peter Norman died, Tommie Smith and John Carlos were pallbearers at his funeral, and I think that says a lot about friendship and alliance. Sometimes, you can’t relate to POC experiences, but you can listen, and you can understand.

7. Fear is the root. 

Fear of sharing, of not having enough, of being tricked or taken advantage of. It is manufactured and created through our own context bubbles and media, and some of it is naturally culminated because of those propagating pieces, so people think it’s okay, that their racism is important, that it protects them. 

We fear unfamiliar things, but pointing out to people that they are the ones who are ignorant and naive is tricky. The psychology that makes people deny and exist on a black-vs-white spectrum is nearly 100% a protection from feeling out of control, based on fears and a lack of personal context. Meaning that the most racist and judgmental people often rarely see people who are different from them in skin color (or when they are different in skin color, they blend in economic class or religion, etc.). They don’t have context to things outside of themselves, their familiarity is limited. 

This is where the issues of white people thinking all [insert any minority here] “look alike.” Because of their lack of context, the key traits they notice are those in contrast to other white people rather than other people in general; rather than noticing a pointed chin or square face, a heavy brow or long nose, a white person without diverse contexts of faces or people might simply notice skin complexion or epicanthic folds and nothing else, they might not even consider body shape, because they are around other people of diverse shapes and heights. This is not an excuse, it’s sad, but it helped me understand where to start several conversations with racist people ranting about race, by considering their own lack of personal context. Starting with race being a cultural construct often, in my experience, does not work here, though I often found myself starting there and working backwards until I learned more about fear and politics and how people use them together to retain control in their lives. 

Explaining how minority cultures are “good” can help, but often there is that rebounding psychology that says familiar is good, unfamiliar = bad. The fear of losing the majority, the upper-hand, the paternalist authority of determining right/wrong based on their views and forcing assimilation on others is deep-seated and rampantly unconscious, and that’s the dangerous part. In some conversations a simple “oh, you’re scared of losing your power” has changed an already-introspective person for the better in such an epiphany moment that reaffirms starting at the very basics with many white people - do you recognize that you have power here? And in many cases they recognize the existence of privilege but not the details of it, discussing those details can also add important context. But fear often makes people reluctant to understand, so looking at their own fears can be a place to start.

There is also a fear of losing parts of the self. For some white people, their travels or appropriative behaviors are the most interesting things about them (according to them), and so the idea of talking about race becomes a conversation challenging their own identities, which encompasses a fear of losing those identities. This is a tricky road for me, because I understand the exciting allure of learning new things and exploring new cultures. I think I can be susceptible to exoticism and tokenism, but that’s also what makes it important to talk about, because I challenge myself at the same time. That becomes a conversation about intent and meaning and culture, and I think it’s important to remember, as a white person talking to other white people, that you do not wear a badge of honor giving you permission to accuse and assume. 

It can be easy to generalize and build assumptions about people, but there are other white people willing to talk about race, there are people who look white and are not at all, and by assuming people’s fears or intentions or consequences, you can easily become the asshole. For example: shamefully, I will admit that I talked to a “white girl” who was really into yoga once, and I made an internal judgement about her, but in conversation, it came up that she grew up in India, speaks Hindi and a bunch of other languages, and works as a translator. That was embarrassing for me, though I never said anything out loud, and I think that’s important too – that we analyze our internal judgements and think about them. I spent some time thinking about my initial judgement, what changed, and what I considered “acceptable” appropriation or identifiable appropriation and “acceptable” displays of culture and value, and I found that it’s complicated. It’s important to be aware of ourselves and not fall into a self-righteousness that ends up demanding to be the voice of others, but to listen and have conversations with those around us. 

8. Context matters part II.

Talking proud white people through the history of European cultures before Rome, and explaining their own heritage, if available, has continually seen those white Americans stop and question what they know of their history and timeline. Talking about tribes and clans and nomadic groups, basically anything during the Roman Empire that wasn’t Rome, has forced many people to pause and question what they know of empire and colonization and conquest and all that they know of “right” and “good” and resource stockpiling, because suddenly there is a before, where they had only ever learned of the after. 

Positioning their own heritage in a perspective that adamantly opposes the idea that guns and colonization were a natural progression of society, and instead asks why and answers: because they were built to invade and take, has made many people pause, and others simply nod and say yes, and that’s why it’s mine now. Which is chilling and frustrating, but does shed light on where to go next. Many white Americans were taught history in the context of victories and kings and presidents and drama, not slavery, servitude, or lives of normal people. Positioning their heritage as one of a conquered people enslaved by Rome suddenly has them questioning that same story they learned about the Trail of Tears and Native American history. And those moments of questioning, of being offered new information that challenges their familiar order of thoughts and cultural context, that can make all the difference.

9. People look different for #reasons.

The single most efficient tool that I have found to really make a difference in the way people see other people is educating them on what the differences mean. Because, in the same way that understanding why someone hurt you makes forgiving them easier, understanding why someone looks different from you makes seeing them as a whole easier.

Explaining to people things like: how skin color works, what it does to protect us, how history and culture and things like slavery and migration impact it, how hair works, what coils, kinks, and curls do for heat dispersion, what big lips or rounded jaws or epicanthic folds or big noses or curvy booties mean, how a human population’s general shape is impacted by their environment, and that it’s ALL IN THE NAME OF THERMOREGULATION, has made so many people go “oh wow, I never knew that, that’s so cool!” And suddenly skin color, hair texture, body shape, etc. are not longer a single reflection of a person’s culture or heritage, but an organ their body is using to maintain their health and keep them alive. 

Telling someone that, based on genetic diversity of populations and a bunch of other stuff like migration and cultural mating habits, they are more likely to find a doppelgänger that looks most like them in another race, has also helped. Out of all your human traits and phenotypic markers, you are more likely to find another human with your similar body/face shapes and structure, but with a different skin color. Showing people these pictures and talking about two friends I had in college who looked exactly alike but one was from Afghanistan and the other from Mexico generally gets people interested in looking at people more intently.

[Note: sometimes it can be harder to find obvious pictures of women/LGBTQ+ individuals with different-race doppelgängers because of the use of makeup, cultural expectations of beauty, and general oppression and erasure of minority cultures, POC, and women, so these are mostly white men who look like other men.]

There you go, some observations about talking about race with white people as a white person. This is all I can do right now, in the midst of the suffering and grief, the fear and continual horror. A few observations stitched together, a little encouragement, some hot tips that have worked for me, and a whole lot of defeated sighing that I know isn’t fair. At the end of the day, I know it’s not all I can do, that it is what I can do. It is a position I take up because I know how easily I can walk through the door of the “white club,” and I have accepted the responsibility of stirring it up and getting people talking about social issues like racism. 

It’s a strange thing, to automatically belong and hate it, to not fit an ideology but be expected to from the outside; I suspect we’ve all felt that one way or another, since it’s the subject of pretty much every popular franchise and story, it has to resonate in a big way somehow. So I know I’m not alone there, I know we’re all exhausted and feeling that there is no progress, that there’s nothing to do, that talking isn’t enough, that we’re stuck inside while people outside are suffering and there’s not a goddamned thing we can do, but it’s a lie. 

We can talk to people. It takes a long time, and you can be tired, and you can be down about it, and you can be frustrated, but it matters, so you can’t give up. The urging of white people to talk to other white people is important. It makes a difference. You might not see it right away, but it matters. 

If you keep at it, you’ll see some of the changes you can make: one day, that racist person starts to tell a joke and you see them stop and think for a minute and then say “you know, actually maybe that’s inappropriate.” Or you see that racist person start to get uncomfortable around their racist friends, or they start asking more complex questions about society, their opinions take longer to form, they ask for sources on information, they slowly grow more comfortable talking about social topics. There are some people I’ve been talking to regularly about this stuff for over a decade and they have not changed in anyway, but in the process of talking to them, in person or on social media, people around them noticed and began to think and question, messaging me to talk more or to say thank you. Changes happen, and people change.... slowly.

It can be scary to talk to white people about race, but if you are white, it is what you can do. Because no matter how you feel about it, at the end of the day, you walk in the door of the white club unbarred. That is a privilege, and that’s what people mean when they say “use your privilege.” 

I hope this helps someone a little bit, because even though I keep at it, even though I know it’s what I can do, it still feels like all I can do, and it never feels like enough.

#racism #race #identity #culture #society #anthropology #cultural anthropology #observations #white people #philosophy #psychology #fear #privilege #white privilege #social science

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 70: Sᴇᴇᴅs ᴏғ Dɪsᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Episodes: Watch The Thrones

Chapter Seventy

My body felt heavy as I gradually stirred and the first thing that I noticed in my environment was the consistent beep of a heart monitor. Something was in my nostrils, irritating my nose and I could feel dressings of some kind stuck to multiple parts of my skin. There was an intense soreness in my chest, feeling as if I had been bruised all over and I felt the familiar tight sensation of stitches.

Exhaustion hung over me, preventing me from opening my eyes too soon and my mind swirled over the last events in my memory as I tried to make sense of what was happening. The explosion of Mount Weather replayed in my mind and I felt my heart skip a beat in panic, allowing me a burst of energy to wake from the medication that was being pumped into an IV.

The medical unit swam into view and it took a few moments for me to process the fact that I was back in Arkada. People rushed around me, seeming flustered by my movement as if they had not expected it and I strained to concentrate on their words.

“Get Abby. She’s waking up!” Jackson’s voice alerted, before hurrying over to my side in concern and he slapped my hands away as I attempted to pull an oxygen tube from my nose.

“Morning, sleepyhead. Now listen, don’t go getting all excited and jumping around. You’re not long out of surgery, so you still need to rest. I’m just going to run some obs on you to check how you’re doing whilst you get your bearings.” He explained, moving to wheel over a blood pressure machine with a bunch of other medical tools sitting in a basket that was attached to it and I nodded to consent to anything that he felt he needed to do.

Everything felt horribly bright to my tired eyes, but fortunately the ward was empty so I could take my time to reorient myself without any interruption. My memories of how I survived the explosion were hazy in my muddled mind and I was sure that I remembered Jackson arriving at the perfect moment to treat me, but I couldn’t think of any reason why he would have been there.

“Am I imagining things, or did you save my life?” I muttered, my voice still hoarse from smoke inhalation and Jackson smiled down at me as he worked.

He finished placing the blood pressure cuff on my arm and set it to begin squeezing my arm, then busied himself with taking my temperature. I waited patiently for an answer, my blinks lazy and long as I still battled to wake up and once he was content that he’d done all he needed too, Jackson perched on the edge of the bed to view me with evident fondness.

“Sinclair radioed to ask me to come to staff the med bay in the mountain as soon as the rescue party left. Just in case things went bad, he thought it made sense to have me standing-by where the best of our equipment was.” He explained calmly, observing me closely as he filled in a medical chart and I hummed thoughtfully, surprised at how efficient Sinclair had been whilst we were leaderless. “Fortunately, it took a while to get there, so I was just in time to witness your crazy stunt.” He quipped, glancing up at me with a cheeky glint in his eye and I smiled weakly at him.

Before I could manage a response, Abby rounded the corner and thinned her eyes at me in a manner that indicated that I was in trouble. Jackson noticed my attitude become tense and glanced back at her, before grimacing slightly. He instantly got to his feet, sneaking me a supportive smile as he packed up the equipment and then made himself scarce.

“You have us quite a scare, Indigo. Again.” Abby declared, nearing to check my stats on the machines and I knew that I was in for a lecture. 

“I only just found out that you asked Jackson to hide your broken ribs from everyone. Do you understand how irresponsible that was? If he hadn’t arrived at Mount Weather just after the explosion, you would have died from your injuries. You’re very lucky that you still didn’t.” She scolded, standing above me with a stern expression and I moved my gaze to my feet awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, Abby.” I whispered, feeling completely unprepared to defend my actions when I was this weak and I chewed on my lip. 

Deep down, I knew that I deserved to hear this and she was right to be furious at me for my actions, but whilst every part of my body was aching, I was all too aware of the effect of my decisions. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that I had been foolish, but I swallowed my pride to allow them their reactions and she sighed in an exhausted manner as she regarded me.

“I’m not the only person that you need to apologise to. Sometimes, I’m not convinced that you realise the impact you have on this camp. Your remaining group all depend on each other for their wellbeing and each time that we lose one of you, the rest of you suffer. They all worry for you and you know better than anyone that when they worry, they make bad decisions. In the time that I’ve known you, you’ve always acted as if you are the most mature of your group and have taken the role of being responsible for them. I’m sorry if this is difficult to hear, but it’s time for you to realise that your actions will get them killed if you don’t start learning to share the burden.” She advised, her voice low and serious, and I finally met her eyes with regret.

“You’re right.” I admitted, fiddling with my hands awkwardly, feeling as if I were staring into the face of my own disappointed mother and as I opened my mouth to continue, Bellamy hurtled around the corner in a fluster.

Though Abby tried to warn him off with her body language, clearly keen to finish our conversation without him fussing over me, he refused to await permission to interrupt. He charged past her to reach my bedside with desperation and had to pause just before he reached me to soften his movements so that he wouldn’t unintentionally hurt me in his enthusiasm.

“You’re finally awake!” He breathed, relief filling his handsome features as he gently took my face in his hands and placed a cautious kiss on my forehead, as if he were afraid that he might break me. “You really scared me this time, Inds. I thought I was gonna lose you.” He confessed in a weak voice, his eyes still red from crying and whilst he was close enough for me to properly examine him, I began to notice how broken down he looked.

“I’m fine, Bel. I’m not going anywhere.” I answered reassuringly, keen to put his troubled mind at ease and without even looking at her, I could feel Abby raising her brows at me as she cleared her throat.

“Actually, she’s not fine.” She clarified, stepping closer with her arms crossed and Bellamy turned to view her with interest. “In the interest of transparency, as your girlfriend has a history of hiding important medical information, you should know that she has three broken ribs, one of which caused the puncture in her lung. These breaks occurred almost six weeks ago in a fight, I’m told, and so although they shouldn’t give her too much trouble in future, they are something that will need to be taken into consideration from now on. Fortunately, we were able to confirm in surgery that they’re mostly healed at this point, as much as it is possible for them to.” She reported, allowing Bellamy a chance to sneak a frustrated glance at me that made me shrink in shame, before she continued.

“However, her lung has taken some substantial damage. We will need to monitor her breathing to ensure that it continues to heal and doesn’t collapse again. She’s also sustained several second degree burns, which will need regular dressing changes and care. Not to mention that she just underwent life saving surgery which will leave her weak and vulnerable. We’ll keep her here overnight, at least, but I need to make it clear that she is not to go on patrol, or guard duty, or partake in any kind of strenuous activity for some time, and absolutely not without my express permission. This is serious and I expect it to be treated as such.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that it is.” Bellamy asserted, his voice deeply serious now that he knew the full extent of my injuries and I already recognised from his tone that I was about to be in far worse trouble with him than I ever had been with Abby.

“I’ll let you two catch up for now. But, Indigo, you and I are not finished.” Abby stated, flashing me one last severe glare, before she departed and I gulped down my dread as I anticipated the rest of my punishment from her.

Once we were alone, I could sense the tension in the air and Bellamy turned to study me with an obvious sense of betrayal that made me want the ground to open up and swallow me.

“Indie. What is going on with you?” He asked, furrowing his brows together as if he couldn’t understand what he had just been told and I shuffled in discomfort as his dark eyes studied me. “Why didn’t you tell me about the broken ribs?” He grilled, his tone displaying the hurt that he felt at this discovery and I could hardly stand how awful I felt about this decision now.

“Because I knew that you would make that face.” I answered in a sulky manner as I peeked up at the protective expression that he was wearing and I watched as he attempted to disguise the overbearing concern that was present in his eyes with little success.

“What face?”

“The face that you’re making right now. The poor, delicate Indie face. I hate that face.” I grumbled childishly as I crossed my arms, despising the way that he fretted over me whenever I was hurt and he cracked a slight smile at my confession. 

“You know, I hate your face is a terrible way to start an apology.” He replied mockingly and though I was appreciative of his efforts to lighten the conversation, I couldn’t deny the awful feeling that was taking root in the pit of my stomach.

“I know that I should have told you. Even at the time, I knew it was wrong to cover it up.” I began, knitting my hands together nervously and he slipped a hand between them to stop me, instead just holding it comfortingly. “I knew that if you all found out, you would take me off patrol and guard duty, and I would just be trapped inside Arkadia, going totally crazy. It’s selfish, but I wanted to be able to go out with you, to make sure that you were okay. I couldn’t go back to waiting for you to come home.”

“We could’ve restricted your duties, so that you weren’t totally grounded.” He argued, seeming disappointed that I hadn’t trusted him to compromise with me and the guilt of this choice compounded in my chest. “You have to be more careful with your decisions, Indie. Keeping this to yourself could have gotten you seriously hurt at any time. You almost died!” He added with his voice raising in frustration as he considered it and I struggled to defend myself against his points.

“I know. It was stupid and reckless, and I knew that, but I did it anyway.” I confirmed, unable to lie any longer about my mindset at the time and Bellamy tilted his head at me as if to silently ask why I still did it. “I needed to keep coming out with you all, so that I could protect you. I couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you whilst I was recovering. As it turns out, my protection didn’t make a damn bit of difference when it really counted.” I added bitterly, dropping my gaze to my lap to avoid his reaction as I felt my eyes welling up and I could sense that he was studying me.

“What are you talking about?” He enquired with confusion, leaning forward to meet my gaze and I cleared my throat in a pointless attempt to keep the emotion from my voice.

“I failed her. Gina died because I left her alone. If I had stayed with her, I could’ve protected her. I could’ve protected all of Mount Weather. Instead, all I did was save myself.” I divulged, a feeling of utter shame overwhelming me as I recalled the moment that I ran, leaving everyone to die and Bellamy grabbed my chin to force me to look at him.

“Hey. Don’t do that to yourself.” He ordered, viewing me with disbelief and I felt my heart breaking in my chest as I tried to push the invasive memory away. “The Ice Nation sent an assassin into somewhere that we considered a safe space. Your guard was down. You weren’t even armed! If you’d been in that room, chances are that you would be dead too. This wasn’t your fault.” He stressed this point, leaning closer as desperately tried to reach past my self-loathing and I felt the first of many tears escape my control.

“I gave up, Bellamy. I just ran out of the facility to save myself. I could’ve saved other people, but I didn’t. I only thought of myself.” I revealed, feeling disgusted as I shared this with the overpowering fear that he would never be able to see me the same way and instead, he surveyed me with a pained understanding.

“You made a difficult decision in an impossible situation. You shouldn’t be ashamed of wanting to live, Love.” He advised, squeezing my hand and I sniffed to contain the wave of tears that willed to flow down my cheeks. “You remember the first time that we had an honest chat? When you followed me into the woods after Atom died, and you almost collapsed, and found me totally losing my mind with guilt?” He recalled quietly, taking me back to an encounter that I had long forgotten and I nodded slowly in response, allowing him to continue.

“You were the one that pointed out that we weren’t trained to make these choices. You told me that I would make mistakes, but that it would allow me to learn. We’ve both made a lot of mistakes since we landed here and we’ve become better survivors from it. At heart though, we’re still those same kids with no training. We’re doing the best that we can. I promise you, the best thing to do in that situation was to live, because we need you. I need you.” He spoke from the heart, reaching out to brush a tear from my cheek with such tenderness that it caused the dam inside me to break and I took a sharp breath as the emotion exploded out of me.

“I couldn’t save her.” I gasped in remorse, finally allowing the true depth of my pain to show and Bellamy shushed me gently. “I tried so hard. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to put pressure on the wounds, and-and I wanted to carry her to medical, but she wouldn’t let me. I really tried to help her and she still died in my arms. I couldn’t save her, Bellamy!” I cried as sobs wracked my chest causing another wave of pain and he pulled me to him.

It was hard to breathe as I wept against his chest, my still recovering lungs struggling to manage the sharp breaths of my cries, but Bellamy simply held me close and smoothed my hair, allowing me an opportunity to fall apart. Whenever I felt this broken, I craved his comfort in a way that I couldn’t put into words and his embrace melted away all of the outside influences that pressed down on me until it was just him and I.

“I know that you did everything you could. You always do. Sometimes it’s just not enough. You can’t blame yourself.” He soothed as he reasoned with my frazzled mind and although logically I knew that he was right, I felt that it would likely take some time before I was able to believe it for myself.

Time passed without my notice as I waited for my emotions to become manageable and Bellamy remained patiently holding me, content to allow me all of the time that I needed with him. 

The warmth of his body gradually calmed me and eventually, I noticed that my eyes were stinging with tiredness again. The weight of the anaesthetic still hung over me and as I sat back to look up at him, he gave me a concerned look.

“It looks like you could do with some rest.” He remarked with a subtle sense of worry as I laid back on my pillow with a drowsy head and he lovingly pushed my fuzzy hair behind my ears, his touch lingering on the side of my face. “I’ll come back later to check on you.” He breathed as he moved to stand, but I grabbed his hand in a desperate bid for him to stay, clinging onto him with all the strength that I could muster.

Bellamy paused, looking back down at me from his towering height with a sympathetic smile and I battled to keep my eyes open, unwilling to be parted from him yet. After a few moments of consideration, he returned to sitting on the bed and placed a hand back on my forehead, tracing tender circles on my skin.

“Alright. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” He conceded, observing me with such fondness that it made my heart swell and I released a small sigh of contentment. “I still need to read you to sleep, afterall.” He added with a smirk and as a smile filled my lips at the idea, I found myself drifting to sleep.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

When I next woke, it was to an empty bed and the ward was almost totally quiet other than Jackson, who was completing paperwork nearby whilst also keeping an eye on me. It was as if Abby and him expected me to dramatically bolt out of here at any moment, ensuring that I was guarded at all times, but I honestly didn’t have the strength to escape from anywhere at the moment. 

Though I wondered where Bellamy had got to, I knew that I was trapped in this bed for now and would need to come to terms with it sooner or later.

I sighed in frustration, looking around for something that could occupy my frantic mind when I noticed a book sitting on the table beside me with a note on the front. The moment that I gripped it, I recognised Bellamy’s scruffy handwriting and a smile filled my face.

I KNOW I PROMISED TO READ THIS TO YOU, BUT I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT NEED SOMETHING TO DO TO KEEP YOU OUT OF MISCHIEF. READ THIS AND REST, MY TROUBLE. B x

Peeling the note from the cover revealed the copy of The Iliad that I had gifted him recently and I appreciated how thoughtful a gesture this was. With little else to occupy me, I fidgeted into a comfortable position and lost myself in the book.

As I absorbed the story, I could just imagine a young Bellamy with his mop of curly hair and adorable freckles, enthralled by the adventures in the pages. The idea caused a sense of happiness that helped to push away the weight of my grief and for a while, I was relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that I didn’t notice the sound of the doors, or the person approaching, until they cleared their throat and startled me.

“Oh, Kane. You scared me!” I gasped, gripping my chest with a genuine anxiety as I panted and he held his hands up in surrender.

“My apologies.” He commented, glancing down at the book with amusement and I used Bellamy’s note as a bookmark before closing it. “I thought I would check how you were doing. Abby tells me that it was touch and go for a while?” He clarified, settling casually in a seat beside the bed and I gulped at the thought of another lecture.

“I’m okay.” I answered quietly, meeting his eyes with a nervous feeling and wondering if I could survive another talk on my foolish behaviour. “I know that what I did was stupid and irresponsible-”

“I’m not here to punish you. From what I understand, your Chancellor already beat me to it.” He remarked lightly, a playful smile dancing across his face and I breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought that I would update you on the events of the Summit, if you’re feeling up to it?” He offered in his usual wise demeanour and I nodded fervently, pleased that he still addressed me with the same sense of value, even when I felt completely broken and helpless.

“Please. All anyone wants to talk about is how much of an idiot I’ve been.” I grumbled, allowing myself to indulge in a moment of self pity and he chuckled under his breath. “No one has told me anything. What’s our situation?”

“We have become the thirteenth clan in the Commander’s coalition, officially recognised as Skaikru.” He began, causing my mouth to drop open in shock and he rolled up his sleeve to reveal a large brand on his forearm that represented our unity. “Lexa knew that The Ice Nation wished to kill her and she planned to show the coalition that she had acquired Wanheda’s power, without being forced to kill Clarke. We completed the joining process just before Bellamy and the others burst in.” He explained, with every word he spoke further blowing my mind and I struggled to wrap my head around everything that he had just told me.

“Did the Commander have any insight on the attack on Mount Weather?” I managed to form a single question as the puzzle pieces assembled in my mind and he studied me as if he were gauging my reaction.

“The Ice Nation claimed responsibility for the attack at the Summit. Lexa arrested the entire delegation and has vowed to support us in avenging the attack. Indra just confirmed that she will send the Trikru army to protect Arkadia, to ensure that we cannot be ambushed.” He reported in a matter of fact tone and I shifted uneasily, recalling how quickly she had retracted her word at Mount Weather. “Clarke has remained in Polis as Skaikru’s ambassador in the War Council, to ensure that our interests are represented.” He added and I felt a frown immediately cross my face in response to this revelation.

“Clarke?! That’s a mistake.” I blurted, another wave of shock washing over me and Kane raised his brows in question. “I get it. She’s been living as a grounder for all of this time and she facilitated the original alliance with them to get us out of Mount Weather. But you don’t know her like I do. With all due respect, Sir, I think that your view of Clarke is likely biased, because of your rel-friendship with Abby.” I stated, causing him to smile again and it seemed that as usual, he was amused by my brutal honesty.

“If you have concerns about Clarke’s suitability for this role, then I’d like to hear them.” He offered calmly, leaning forward in his seat to place his elbows on his lap and though I had expected him to be offended by my statement, I was glad to find that he was open to discussion.

“Clarke might be living their lifestyle now, but the moment that something doesn’t go her way, she’ll expect the Commander to abandon their rules to accommodate her. In our old camp, I saw her insist on democracy, which only resulted in a majority vote against her plans and she just went behind everyone’s back to continue with her own agenda anyway. Once Clarke has decided to do something, no one else’s opinion matters. Believe me, that attitude doesn’t work in a culture as rigid as the grounders. The first thing that I was taught with Arlo is that you follow orders without question. Clarke is physically incapable of doing that.” I rambled, not hesitating to express my full opinion and Kane smiled proudly at me.

“I appreciate your honesty on this, Indigo. Unfortunately, there is no one else that Lexa respects as she does Clarke and so we will have to rely on her to prove you wrong if we are to stand any chance of surviving this conflict with The Ice Nation. However, knowing your concerns will help us to anticipate any problems.” He remarked finally and I sighed in disappointment, anxiety settling in my stomach at the idea of Clarke sitting in a war council with the very real potential to cause carnage.

“Well, at least the Commander knows everything now. Azgeda are no longer working from the shadows and we have her support.” I conceded, deciding to focus on the positives for now and Kane nodded slowly as he processed my words.

“There is something else that I thought you should now.” He declared, seeming as if he were reluctant to discuss this next topic and I thinned my eyes at him suspiciously. “Bellamy returned his guard jacket to me earlier today. Apparently, he feels as if he is at fault for those we lost at Mount Weather. He doesn’t think that he deserves to be a guard any longer. Usually, I wouldn’t interfere in personal matters like this, but I have a gut feeling that he hasn’t told you about this decision and I hoped that you might be able to talk some sense into him?” He suggested in an uncomfortable manner and I felt my eyes widen in shock, hardly able to believe that he would keep something of this severity from me. 

Recalling our earlier conversation, I felt immensely guilty for burdening Bellamy with my own grief when he was already blaming himself for the outcome of Azgeda’s plot and I felt a lump rising in my throat as I thought of him viewing himself in this manner. The wisdom and ease of the advice that he had given in defence of me made sense now that I knew he had already decided that the responsibility laid at his feet and I was hurt that he had put his own feelings aside to listen to me, instead of confiding in me.

“No, actually. He didn’t tell me.” I whispered, fidgeting with my hands nervously and Kane nodded slowly in understanding. “Thank you for letting me know. I will definitely speak to him about it.” I confirmed, forcing a polite smile and he seemed relieved that he might potentially be able to return Bellamy to his post.

“Well, I should get going. There is a memorial starting soon for those lost in Mount Weather.” Kane announced as he rose to his feet reluctantly, seeming as if he was exhausted too and I felt myself straighten up slightly at this revelation.

“Wait. I want to come.” I blurted, staring up at him with a sense of desperation and he studied me sceptically, clearly unable to believe that I would be able to manage it in my current condition. “I know that I need to rest. I’ll be careful and I’ll come straight back after. I just really need this. I was with Gina when she-” I cut myself off abruptly, unsure of how to explain exactly what I had experenced and Kane sighed heavily as he considered me.

“I don’t have the authority to allow you to leave. It’s a medical decision.” He stated regretfully and I felt my shoulders drop in disappointment. “Fortunately, I’m rather close with your doctor. I’ll speak to Abby now. As long as she agrees for you to go, I’ll ask Bellamy to come and collect you.” He added with a sly smile and I felt my face light up in appreciation.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

Bellamy was quiet when he arrived and though I was alarmed by this, I was quickly distracted when I realised that he had thought to bring me some fresh clothes. He helped me to change into them delicately, before I placed the jacket that had once been his over the top and he chuckled at me for this. I held onto his arm for stability and once Jackson was content that I would be able to manage the walk, we carefully left medical.

As I clung to Bellamy’s bare arm, I noticed that he truly wasn’t wearing his guard jacket any longer and remembered my conversation with Kane in unease.

“You’re not wearing your jacket?” I enquired as casually as possible as we moved delicately through the halls of the Ark and Bellamy sighed slightly, revealing his discomfort at my question.

“Yeah. It got damaged.” He excused in a distracted manner and I could tell that he was struggling to think of a way out of the conversation. “ I need to get a new one. It’s not really a priority at the moment, though.” He reported, glancing down at me with a smile to subtly suggest that caring for me was far more important and I felt my stomach lurch as I realised that he had no intention of telling me that he had quit the guard.

We spent the rest of the walk in silence as my thoughts swirled, fearful over his secretive attitude and I was anxious that he had tried to keep me from the memorial too. It was obvious that he was suffering with guilt, but for whatever reason, he didn’t want my support with it and I hated the thought of him isolating himself with this.

Bellamy led me into the main dining space, where rows of chairs had been set up and tables were lined up at the front for people to leave items. The room was already full of grieving people waiting for the service to start and I could feel the weight of emotion in the air. He guided me into a seat beside him at the end of a row and immediately I began fiddling with my hands due to anxiety.

It wasn’t long before people began to present their tributes for their loved ones and I felt myself shaking as I considered all of the lives that were lost in the attack. Though it was challenging, I was glad that I had forced myself to attend to face it and I knew that this would be the hardest step of my journey to forgiveness. Each speech was heart-breaking to listen to, but I considered it my atonement for not attempting to save them and held myself together despite the storm of emotions in my mind.

My breath caught in my throat as Raven struggled her way to the front and Bellamy took my hand for support, sensing my distress. Her face was already red from tears and she appeared as if she hadn’t slept at all since we returned home. My heart ached for her as I had a unique insight into the pain that she was experiencing and I respected her strength as I compared it to my breakdown in Mount Weather quarantine.

“Gina was kind. She always put everyone else first, sharing love and compassion with anyone who needed it.” Raven began, her hands trembling as she read from a piece of paper and I knew that she was battling to make it through her speech. “She had incredible patience and no matter how hard I tried to push her away, she always stayed at my side. I never appreciated her for how wonderful she was, but I will make sure that she was remembered for it. Gina deserved better.” She finished with a tear rolling down her cheek and sniffed to contain the rest.

Rolling up the paper, Raven reached a shaking hand into her pocket and pulled out a keychain. Though many might have missed it, I noticed the pained reluctance in the way that she tenderly placed it down amongst the other items, as if she were unsure if she was truly ready to part with it and I remembered my insane attachment to the jacket that I currently wore with sympathy. I leaned my face onto Bellamy’s shoulder for comfort as tears of my own escaped my demeanour and he squeezed my arm in silent support.

Before the next name could be honoured, a group of guards entered and bypassed Kane and Abby to report directly to Pike in hushed voices. This made my back stiffen as I thinned my eyes at them suspiciously and I felt Bellamy tense too beside me. 

As I scanned the people gathered here, it was clear that the guards arrival had caused a ripple amongst everyone and a feeling of dread settled in my stomach.

It was difficult to hear the conversation that was taking place, but I was sure that I heard a mention of grounders and the way that Pike looked over at our leadership only strengthened my belief in that. He approached them to repeat the information, causing me to feel uncomfortable with his new role of negotiator between the guards and Chancellor that I felt allowed a prime opportunity for manipulation.

“You gave a grounder one of our radios?” Pike stated accusingly, raising his voice for everyone else to hear and I had the distinct feeling that this was no accident, but rather a tactical decision to gain support.

“Sir. Are we under attack?”

A voice called from the crowd who were already murmuring restlessly and though I looked to Bellamy for reassurance, his focus was strictly set on Pike. People began to stand as the feeling of panic spread and I could sense the threat of impending chaos, sending my adrenaline into overdrive.

“No. We are not under attack.” Kane announced as he rose to address the concerned citizens, holding his hands out in an attempt to calm the delicate situation. “The Commander sent a peacekeeping force to ensure that we can defend against any further attacks from The Ice Nation.” He confirmed as he battled the incredibly fragile balance of power that we all knew was hanging on by a thread.

“Peace keeping force?!” Pike spat in disbelief, growing more irate by the second despite the inappropriate timing of this conversation. “Even you can’t be that naive, Marcus!” He yelled, further feeding the tension in the room as more of the crowd stood from their seats and I noticed with confusion that Raven was staring at Bellamy with rage bubbling her face, before returning my face to our leaders.

“Watch your tongue!” Abby warned as she fixed Pike with a stern stare. “You’re talking to the next Chancellor.” She announced and I raised my brows in surprise, having clearly missed this information when I was in recovery. “We’re all grieving. This has been hard on all of us, but we can’t let anger drive our policy.”

“Anger is our policy.” Pike yelled, gaining cheers of support from the watching audience and he used this momentum to step up onto a nearby surface to rally his people. “Now, if they’re here to defend us as you say, then tell them to go home. We can defend ourselves!” He argued, pointing down at Abby disrespectfully and I was struck by how much his attitude reminded me of Bellamy in our first few days on Earth.

In a moment of clarity, his admiration for the man made sense and I realised that Pike represented a simpler time for Bellamy that had been lost in the more nuanced lifestyle that we lived now. We had to consider alliances and politics in our current days, instead of simply focusing on day to day survival as we did in our dropship camp and I could understand why Bellamy would be drawn to the patriotic nature of Pike’s approach. However, this idea frightened me and I knew that I needed to publicly oppose Pike, just as I once had my lover, rising to my feet with a fierce glare.

“You fought against Azgeda warriors for months. How did that work out for you? Lose many people?” I began, drawing his attention as he viewed me with disgust and I crossed my arms defensively. “Believe me when I tell you, those fights were nothing compared to the force of their army. Without the help of Trikru, Azgeda will obliterate us. We stood with Trikru before against the mountain. These people that the Commander sends to protect us are our allies, not our enemies!” I advised, turning to speak to the people that were gathered with hope that I might be able to turn the rising tide, but my words fell on deaf ears due to the suffocating grief that hung over everyone here.

“Miss Sloan. Why don’t you remind us how you were rescued from the mountain?” Pike argued, his face growing smug as he knew that I would have to confirm that the army was not responsible for our rescue and I had a horrible feeling that my statement had only aided his cause. “The grounders abandoned us then and they will do it again. They can’t be trusted.”

“You.” One of the members of Farm Station pointed directly at Lincoln in an aggressive manner and my jaw clenched in anger. “You don’t belong here.” He accused, viewing him with an entirely undeserved hatred and I could hardly believe that things were deteriorating so quickly between our people.

“Then I guess I don’t either!” I declared, moving to shuffle past Bellamy so that I could stand beside Lincoln in support, but before I could even exit the row of seating, the situation continued to worsen.

“He’s one of them!” The ring leader yelled, rapidly prompting similar statements to be yelled by the crowd and it was clear that people were jumping on the opportunity to rid the camp of the person that they viewed as an outsider, already forgetting everything that Lincoln had done for us.

Bellamy rose to his feet to grab my arm, holding me in place protectively and whilst I was distracted by attempting to shake him off, the confrontation escalated to violence. The man who had begun this conflict threw a rock at Lincoln, which struck his head with a worrying impact and Bellamy was the first to leap into action as the Farm Station resident moved to attack Lincoln.

In no time at all, a fight erupted between people loyal to Kane and Abby, and Farm station, and although my mind was exploding with rage, my body could not keep up. My legs shook weakly as I struggled to remain upright and I had to lean on a chair to steady myself as the room spun around me.

I noticed Abby hurrying past me, working her way around the edge of the chaos to reach Lincoln, when the sound of a loud whistle drew my attention. 

“Hey!” Pike bellowed loudly enough to bring everything to a halt and I was pleased to notice that some of our original guards from before we discovered Farm Station had leapt into action to pin down the instigators. “We do not attack our own! Fighting each other only makes us weak. The enemy is not in this camp. The enemy is out there!” He gestured to the gates and I glanced over at Lincoln to notice that he refused help from Abby, who called after him that he needed to go to Medical as he stormed out.

“You’re right. The enemy is out there. And it’s Azgeda. It’s not Trikru and it’s not Lincoln.” I clarified loudly, using what little energy had left to defend my family with passion and Bellamy nodded in support.

“Sir. We need to arrest that man responsible for this assault. Lincoln is one of us.” Bellamy advised, fortunately addressing Kane rather than Pike and before I could praise him for this, Raven interrupted with a loud scoff.

“How like you to immediately defend the grounder.” She spat, glaring at Bellamy with such venom that it shocked us and we both stared at her with confusion. “You’ve got some brass even being here when you’re the reason that they’re all dead.” She accused, moving closer to instigate an argument and I struggled my way over to them to calm things before another fight broke out.

“What are you talking about?” Bellamy investigated, forcing his voice into an even tone despite the emotional turmoil that I knew he was covering and I could see the hurt in his eyes as he regarded her.

“You told us to stay whilst you went to the Summit. You were the one who vouched for that grounder, even though you knew that she was Ice Nation. Even your girlfriend wasn’t sure about trusting her, but you did it anyway and you nearly got her killed too! You practically served us up on a fucking platter for the grounders. It wasn’t enough for you, killing everyone in Mount Weather once, was it? You just had to do it again!” She yelled, stepping forward to push his chest aggressively and Miller rushed over to restrain her, his movements careful so that he wouldn’t hurt her.

“I’ll never forgive you! It’s your fault that Gina is dead! You took everything from me!” She screamed, manically fighting against Miller as she tried to attack and Bellamy simply stared at her in stunned silence, frozen to the spot in horror.

“That’s enough, Raven. You’re only making things worse!” I snapped, stepping between them with a false strength as I faced her down and I was able to catch a glimpse of the broken person that hid beneath Raven’s rage. “Gina wouldn’t want you to do this and you know it. Take a walk.” I advised calmly, causing her anger to dissolve into pain and she shook Miller’s grip from her shoulders to march out of the room shamefully.

The moment that the conflict was over, I felt as if I might collapse. Noticing my sudden vulnerability as I turned back to face him, Bellamy gripped my arms to keep me from falling and I stared up at him with an apologetic expression.

“Baby. You know none of that was true, right?” I whispered, encouraging him to meet my eyes and the way that he nodded was as if he were simply brushing off my concern, rather than actually absorbing my reassurances. “She’s hurting and she lashed out. It doesn’t make it okay and it definitely doesn’t make her right. Don’t let her get in your head.” I insisted, already terrified that she had only intensified his guilt and his face revealed how much her words had hurt him.

“I’ve got some things to wrap up here and then I’ll get you back to Medical.” He answered flatly as if he were simply reciting a well practiced line and I sighed in disappointment, hating that he was pushing me away.

“It’s alright. I’m gonna find Lincoln and see if I can get him to go with me.” I suggested, already keen to make sure that his injury was treated and Bellamy nodded in agreement. “Come and see me when you’re done. Please.” I instructed, flashing him a supportive smile and his only response was a slight hum as he strode away from me, leaving me with an empty feeling in my stomach.

Grabbing a clean piece of fabric from nearby, I made my way outside and tried to push aside my anxiety as I focused on searching for Lincoln.

#the 100 #cw #oc #fanfic #fanfiction #original character #Indigo Sloan #Indigo #Bellamy Blake #Octavia Blake #Eric Jackson #Lincoln kom Trikru #Raven Reyes #Abby Griffin #Charles Pike #Marcus Kane #bellamy x reader #bellamy x oc #bellamy x you #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake the 100 #bellamy blake series #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 rewrite #the 100 insert #bellamyblakeedit #bellamyblakedaily #bellamyblakesource

[hiccanna-tidbits]

Hiccanna--100 OTP Questions, Part 2

So I said I would finish this OTP question meme someday--and I decided, entirely on random impulse, that “someday” is today!!! My Hiccanna-centered account has not been producing enough Hiccanna content lately, and this simply WILL not do.

QUESTION SOURCE: https://the-moon-dust-writings.tumblr.com/post/159857601812/100-otp-questions

LINK TO PART 1: https://hiccanna-tidbits.tumblr.com/post/635744326176129024/hiccanna-100-otp-questions-meme-part-1 51. Does either of them know how to fight? I mean...canonically yeah, they both do??? Lol I mean Hiccup has his fire sword and obviously would know how to fight with the weapons he makes/invents, and Anna literally just instinctively grabs a sword to protect her buddies in Frozen 2 and I mean we all really love Sword Anna anyways and also she PUNCHES A MAN OFF OF A BOAT so long story short yes they can both fight 52. What do they do for Valentines Day? Anna rents a rom-com and pulls Hiccup down onto their couch to watch it with her, and he kinda internally groans because he figures it’ll be something super sappy and cheesy and Anna will just be squealing with delight the whole time. Legit as soon as the first scene begins, Anna begins brutally roasting the main couple. Turns out it’s a really terrible rom-com and Anna rented it solely to make fun of it. Hiccup is like “aight this definitely wasn’t what I was expecting but I’m on board” Also Hiccup gets Anna like 3 boxes of fancy chocolate because...do I really need to explain? Anna gets Hiccup a particularly aesthetic floral arrangement for their kitchen table, something she knows damn well he secretly likes but would never admit XD 53. Who swears more? Anna, for sure. This tends to surprise people, but Anna is actually a notorious pottymouth when she gets comfortable XD Hiccup has a pretty big and borderline pretentious vocabulary, and so he tends to express his frustration in more...articulate ways when things don’t go his way. Like he’d stub his toe and just say “wow, I’d literally rather saw off my other leg than have to deal with this right now” while Anna, in the same situation, would let loose every curse word known to man XD 54. Who has the better comebacks? Hiccup, absolutely. His smart-ass comments to every conceivable situation on earth go absolutely unmatched. Anna can’t help but envy how he can almost instinctually pull out a near-perfect snide remark within seconds, whilst she, at best, thinks of the ideal comeback in the shower 3 days later. 55. Who would start a fight with another parent at a bake sale? I feel like Anna would seek out the most passive-aggressive, bitchy, entitled Karen and just wait with barely-concealed anticipation for her to say something super awful so Anna can just nail her in the face right in front of all the other moms Hiccup and their kids, meanwhile, can’t help but be awed at their wife/mother’s impressive Right Hook 56. Who reads buzzfeed? Anna. Hiccup keeps being like “you know half the stuff on there is total bullshit, right?” and Anna just shrugs like “who cares? It’s entertaining!” 57. Who is the hopeless romantic? Anna, good god, ANNA. After the whole Hans debacle I imagine she’s a bit more subdued about so openly showing this part of her personality, but at heart she just can’t stop being a romantic. Once Hiccup catches wind of this, he naturally makes a point of frequently surprising her with Grand Romantic Gestures and such, which makes Anna’s entire face go bright fuckin red as she cries out “NO STOP WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS YOU’RE TOO NICE” 58. Do either of them know how to do a handstand? Nope! They’d both fall on their faces and it would be hilarious. 59. Who can rap better? I love the idea of them both being looped into a rap battle somehow and Anna just dreading it immensely because she figures they both really suck and then when it’s their turn Hiccup comes out and busts out the BEST, MOST SAVAGE RHYMES Anna has ever heard COMPLETELY ad lib and the poor girl just goes completely catatonic with shock for like 10 minutes. 60. Do either of them want to go sky diving? See initially I was gonna say Hiccup definitely would not because it would give the poor boy an anxiety attack, but then I remembered he basically skydives in canon??? And Anna strikes me as a bit of adrenaline junkie too, so fuck it--yeah, I think they’d both enjoy it. 61. What do they usually text about? They talk a lot about movies, games, books, and shows they both like, I imagine--Hiccup especially likes to overanalyze them to ridiculous extents and Anna thinks this is adorable. The rest of the time, they send each other dumb memes and talk about random animal fun facts. Anna likes to brag that her boyfriend knows more lizard trivia than anyone else on the planet, and how many lizard facts does YOUR boyfriend know? Probably little to none, you big loser. 62. Who is the dramatic one? Anna is INCREDIBLY dramatic. Although Hiccup certainly does have a “dramatic flair,” as he puts it, I still think Anna can out-dramatic him, at the end of the day XD Although perhaps admittedly not by much. 63. Is either one confrontational? Anna certainly can be. She’s usually pretty friendly, but if she ever feels like she’s being challenged, demeaned, mocked, or generally not taken seriously, she’s ready to go to WAR. She certainly not as soft as she might look! I imagine there’s situations where someone is being a dick to either Anna or someone else and Hiccup has to physically hold her back to keep her from just decking them XD 64. What is their favourite cuddle position? Probably just good old-fashioned spooning. Hiccup actually really loves being the little spoon (because Anna just makes him feel so damn safe), but he is loathe to admit it. They also have one I like to call the “Needy Cat,” where Anna just goes and completely drapes herself over Hiccup when he’s sitting on the couch. He’s usually in the middle of doing something else, and is forced to find ways to play video games/read his book/watch his show around Anna XD 65. Who are their favourite musical artist(s)? Hiccup has exactly 3 music moods--pretentious classical stuff (to listen to while working on inventions), obscure underground 90s hipster bands no one’s heard of (to play air guitar to when no one else is home), and some more well-known emo/alt rock stuff (to sing along to in the car dramatically). I can see him liking Panic! at the Disco, The Killers, Fall Out Boy, Linkin Park, that kinda stuff. Anna, meanwhile, likes the trashiest, most generic-sounding pop music and refuses to apologize for dancing to it in the car XD She is most DEFINITELY a Swiftie, no question. She also likes some “edgier” bands like Paramore and Hey Monday. She went through a hardcore Avril Lavigne phase in middle school and she still totally listens to her but is embarrassed to say it. Also I feel like Anna would be into 90s/early 2000s boy bands??? She relates to the boys’ endless pining and just flips the genders in her head so the songs are about Hiccup (before they start dating obs) XD I AM DEFINITELY NOT SPEAKING FROM EXPERIENCE HERE, NO SIR 66. What are their parenting styles? Anna would probably be like...kind of stern, when she needs to be, but intensely nurturing as well, if her relationship with Elsa is anything to go by. Hiccup would be a pretty laid-back, chill dad who would probably try too hard to be cool and make no end of absolutely horrible dad jokes XD They both lowkey seem like the kind of parents who would end up letting their kids get away with a lot though lmao 67. Who would be the more laid back one? Hiccup probably. I mean, he IS the pacifist/diplomat guy, besides have you MET Anna??? Girl absolutely has NO chill. 68. Who listens to more vulgar music? Anna, surprisingly! Hiccup just kinda enjoys what he enjoys and doesn’t really feel the need to “prove” anything by listening to songs that swear a lot. Anna purposely listens to vulgar music to feed her hidden rebellious side and because it makes her feel badass XD She honestly kinda hates being written off as 100% wholesome and innocent all the time and will readily pull out the “I’M NOT A SWEET LITTLE FLOWER I SANG ALONG TO THAT SONG THAT JUST SAID FUCK SEE” line whenever given even the slightest chance XD 69. Do either of them have secrets even the other doesn’t know? Kind of depends on when in both their timelines they meet. If they meet in the middle of HTTYD 1 or Frozen 1, they probably wouldn’t tell the other right away that they have a dragon and an ice-powered supersister, respectively XD I definitely think they would as they came to trust each other, though. Also I read a headcanon that Hiccup has burn scars from the Red Death incident where he lost his leg, and that’s why he wears so much armor and generally long sleeves--and I kind of love that. So maybe Hiccup would be cagey with Anna about how he lost his leg and that whole incident for a while before he finally opens up to her about it. Other than that I feel like they’d be pretty honest with one another, other than maybe trying to hide the more embarrassing parts of themselves to impress the other person XD 70. Who is their go to couple for a double date? Jackunzel, obviously! They’d probably all go to an arcade or an amusement park or something else pretty fun and high-energy. 71. Do they tip the waiter/waitress on their date? I mean yes, they’re not huge assholes????? 72. How do they work out a fight? I imagine Anna tends to get more worked up and yelley and loud, while Hiccup doesn’t raise his voice much at all but can say some damn cutting things if he wants to. Since Anna probably gets angrier, I imagine she apologizes first, whether or not the fight was actually on her or not--it’s just kinda this girl’s default to apologize for everything XD She’d probably say sorry for yelling and probably overreacting, while Hiccup would also be EXTREMELY apologetic if he realized he crossed a line with one of his jabs at her. I imagine a lot of what they fight about is Anna doing some impulsive Dumb Shit^TM and Hiccup just being like “oh god DAMMIT that’s DANGEROUS you can’t just go WORRYING me like that!!!” and Anna getting offended because she kinda views this as him being a little overprotective and not trusting her to make her own decisions. Ironically, Anna occasionally also gets mad at HICCUP for doing Impulsive Dumb Shit, so he’s not always nearly as much the Voice of Reason as he thinks XD Hiccup also sometimes gets mad at Anna for not taking better care of herself (take it from a fellow ADHDer--we tend to Wallow in Despair sometimes, or straight-up forget to do basic care things like eat lunch XD)--I have an IRL friend who reminds me a lot of Hiccup and he’s ALWAYS getting on my case about not eating enough, not drinking enough water, constantly berating myself, stuff like that. I imagine Hiccup sometimes slips into Mom Mode with Anna when she gets in a bad spot, which she appreciates after the fact but kind of annoys her at the time because she wants really badly to be independent and all that. Basically TL;DR most of Anna and Hiccup’s fights can be resolved by Anna and Hiccup agreeing to next time Use A Brain Cell before they do a thing, or Anna agreeing to take better care of herself XD 73. Who brings home an illegal pet? In literally every AU possible I like to think that Hiccup brings home some variation of illegal pet XD I mean, it’s probably just a dragon (”just a dragon” is never a string of words I imagined myself using in that order like what do you mean JUST a dragon lmao) in a standard crossover timeline, which he basically does in canon, but I do love the idea of a modern AU Hiccup showing up to their apartment with some kind of weird exotic monitor lizard from Bali and being like “I found him in an alley, he’s gonna live with us now” and Anna is like “D: Is someone gonna arrest you???” And Hiccup is like “Nah, no cops followed me home” and Anna’s like “Okay!!! :D” and then goes to PetSmart to buy a big fluffy bed for her new scaled friend XD 74. What side of the bed do each of them sleep on? I honestly don’t think either would care much, and they usually sleep in a tangled-up mess anyways so by morning you can’t really tell who started on which side XD 75. What is their favorite photo of them two together? One from before they got together: I’m just imagining a big group photo with the Entire Squad (Rapunzel, Jack, Merida, Moana, etc.), and Anna has her arms laced around Hiccup’s neck and her chin on his shoulder and a GIANT smirk on her face. Meanwhile Hiccup is laughing and trying to push her off, but his cheeks are BRIGHT fucking red and he’s trying really unsuccessfully to hide it because he’s a pale boi. Anna loves it because you can so CLEARLY see Hiccup’s blush, and she loves to tease him about how flustered he got around her. Hiccup loves it because it reminds him of what was probably the first time Anna was THAT openly cuddly with him, and how exhilarated and giddy he felt the first time he had her that close to him. 76. Who takes longer in the bathroom? Probably Hiccup, if only because I HC him as a bit of a germophobe who is a tiny bit obsessive about washing his hands sufficiently. 77. Who has more songs on their ipod? Anna, mainly because literally every time she hears a song she likes she’s like “!!!!! Gotta download it!!!!” LITERALLY EVERY TIME. And she wonders why her ipod is always running out of space XD 78. What movie did they first see together? As of the Modern AU Hiccanna one-shot I wrote ages ago, Revenge of the Ancient Dragon Masters! XD If we’re talking movies that actually exist, I imagine it would be a Marvel movie, a Star Wars movie, or some super-fancy-CGI high fantasy epic. 79. What do they like to see each other in? You mean like...which of the other’s outfits would they find the sexiest??? Aight, I’ll take a stab at this. Anna gets literally SO fuckin thirsty every time Hiccup wears his dragon rider outfit (the one from HTTYD 2), like it shows off his cute skinny body in the most perfect possible way whilst making him look like a badass and oh how Anna DREAMS of feeling him up in that! (One day, she finally gets to! XD) She’s also very into the scale armor from HTTYD 3 when she’s in...a very different kind of mood XD As for Hiccup, his favorite outfits of Anna’s are probably her coronation dress and her queen dress, mainly because he loves how she looks in green. He also really likes her travel outfit from Frozen 2, mainly because it’s sexy AND practical and damn, he’s gotta admit, that’s a nice shade of purple and she absolutely SLAYS in it XD 80. Who makes jokes during inappropriate times? Honestly both of them??? Like neither are great at picking up social cues, and Anna canonically DOES do this in Frozen! (Remember her comment about ice-selling being “a rough business to be in right now”???) I can see both of them attempting to lighten a tense mood by making an ill-timed joke, hoping to make things less uncomfortable, and they end up making everything MORE uncomfortable XD Honestly sue me, I love the idea of these two idiots bonding over how terrible they are with social cues in general 81. At what age do they discuss the possibility of children? I imagine not til like...their early 30s, if ever. Like I mentioned in the first part of the questionaire, I actually am not sure if they would even want to have kids at all, but if they DID decide to, it definitely wouldn’t be until they’re older and have settled down a bit, and have (somewhat) gotten both of their lives together. 82. What do they love about each other the most? Hiccup loves Anna’s energy and optimism, and how she’ll basically cheer him on and believe in him with all her being no matter how high the odds are stacked against him. And oh boy does he LOVE how hard she can kick ass when push comes to shove, and how goddamn overprotective she is of him. The sword skills and the general willingness to punch problematic people in the face are definitely up there as well. She’s like the perfect blend of fun and badass, and there’s never a dull moment with her for him. Anna adores Hiccup’s connection with animals and general animal skills, especially with the more less-loved and “scary” of the world’s creatures (i.e. dragons lol). She also loves and admires the shit out of his intelligence and inventiveness, and wishes she could make contraptions half as cool as what he turns out. And, of course, she loves that he’s a pretty humble dude who's actually pretty insecure about his accomplishments, and isn’t some cocky guy wanting to shove them in everyone’s face. And, of course, she loves his sarcasm and his dry sense of humor, and few people can make her laugh as hard as Hiccup can. Before she met him, she had no idea pessimism could be this entertaining XD 83. Who is the one that sees the big picture, while the other focus’s on the small details? Hiccup is very detail-oriented--he has to be, in order to make any of his contraptions work! Anna is very much focused on the big picture and gets stressed and exasperated trying to keep track of details--she figures she’ll either sort through the details as she goes, or Hiccup will help do it for her XD 84. What would they write on their partner’s social media’s for their anniversary? One of my IRL friends wrote “Happy anniversary bro, you’re pretty great” on his girlfriend’s instagram for their anniversary, and she wrote back “Happy anniversary, you’re a good buddy, I love you” and I just XD That’s the EXACT kind of weird dorky nonsense I can see Hiccup and Anna doing for their anniversary tbh 85. Who is bad at math? Anna, bless her soul, needs a calculator for literally EVERYTHING. Hiccup kinda trained himself to be decent at doing math in his head, since he often has to calculate measurements for his inventions and whatnot, but Anna is absolutely atrocious at it and generally would like overly-complicated numbers to not be anywhere near her. 86. Who googles everything? Probably Anna, mainly because she’s pretty forgetful and doesn’t trust her own memory half the time so she feels the need to verify everything on the internet XD 87. Who does stuff on impulse? Anna 100% canonically does, although Hiccup has some shades of this too more than he would ever admit, in fact, for someone claiming to be the Voice of Reason 88. How do they comfort each other when they are helpless to do anything about the situation? Hiccup’s approach is probably just to try and distract Anna and take her mind off of it, which he’ll do by either trying to make her laugh, telling her a story, or explaining one of his inventions to her (which she never gets bored with btw, because everything that boy gushes about is fascinating to her <3). Basically he figures if he entertains her enough, it’ll take her mind off of whatever is freaking her out and she won’t fixate on it as much. Anna’s approach is more to accentuate the positives in a bad situation (although like I mentioned in Part 1, not really in a condescending “count your blessings, it could be worse!” kind of way, but more in a “I hope he’ll feel better if he focuses on happy things” kind of way, if that makes any sense?) and also focus on when Hiccup DID do great and utterly kick ass and tell him he’s always better than he thinks he is. 89. What is an inside joke they have? If anything, him calling her “Tiger” as a pet name (which I think I mentioned briefly in Part 1??? Can’t remember) is this, because in my mind it developed because whenever Anna is about to do some Dumb Shit, or punch someone she really shouldn’t in the face, Hiccup has to physically hold her back like “Whoa, slow down there, Tiger!” This happens so frequently that eventually it just gets shortened to him nicknaming her “Tiger” and all their friends are kind of baffled as to why XD 90. Who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all? Hiccup barely even needs to start talking in funny accents or imitating his dad before Anna is just DYING laughing. She thinks he’s the funniest damn person on earth. He honestly gets a kick out of her impressions too--she can do some pretty amusing ones, if that deleted coronation dress-up scene from Frozen 1 is anything to go by. So the feeling is mutual!!! They’re super good at making each other smile and laugh with little to no effort!!! 91. What is their favourite holiday? I feel like Anna especially would get REALLY into Christmas/Yule, mainly because of how much Elsa can spice it up with her powers. And judging by the OFA short, Arendelle gets very hyped for the holidays in general, so it’s probably hard NOT to have a good time. Anna probably also like Mayday a lot because the dancing, the spring cheeriness, and the flower-related festivities are definitely to her taste. Hiccup just likes the energy and general vibes, and would rather sit back and relax and watch Anna dance around and have fun XD Also dun best believe they BOTH get hella into Halloween, because they’re dramatic motherfuckers who loves to dress up, and it gives Anna an excuse to buy a shitton of chocolate and eat all the leftovers XD 92. Who is the one that is calm and collected while the other is angry and destructive? Lmao Anna is definitely the “berserker” of the two of them. She DOES tend to get destructive when she’s angry, if being ready to fight a giant-ass snowman and smacking a wolf in the face with a lute is anything to go by. Hiccup is definitely the calm and collected one, and very rarely gets genuinely angry. 93. What is their favourite board game to play? Does Dungeons and Dragons count??? I can totally imagine Hiccup being hyped up over that or some other super nerdy RPG game and being so enthused to show it to Anna, who just falls even more in love with him after seeing how EXCITED he gets about it. Of course he’s super eager to teach her, and TBH Anna has a really hard time getting it at first because DAMN these rules are COMPLICATED, but after she finally gets the hang of it, she realizes she absolutely LOVES DnD and RPG games in general (I mean...have you SEEN OFA??? Girl gets just a little TOO into reminiscing about her old play-pretend toys XD) and she and Hiccup constantly geek out about it together. 94. Who accidental sets something on fire? Anna, 100% also this is an ever funnier question if applied to Hiccanna in my Fire!Anna AU 95. Who has the car ready while the other is robbing the store? Anna is waiting while Hiccup robs the store, if for no other reason than that Hiccup is much better at Stealth Mode than Anna is XD Anna’s uncoordinated ass would probably knock over like 5 shelves’ worth of merchandise before reaching what they were actually trying to rob XD 96. What artist/group did they go to for their first concert? I M A G I N E  D R A G O N S lmao Look what can I say Anna likes the Imagine and Hiccup likes the Dragons 97. Who sleep talks? Hiccup. He mumbles about dragons a lot. Sometimes he jolts awake randomly and just yells out “THE DRAGONS ARE IN TROUBLE!” and Anna has to calm him down after she dutifully manages to not burst into laughter at this. Doubly funny if this takes place in a Modern AU. 98. Who is the more social one? Anna! Hiccup generally prefers to either keep to himself or hang out with animals. 99. What are their karaoke songs? For some reason I feel like anything by P!nk??? Idk why, but I can see them like rocking out and singing along to p!nk songs together and getting really into it. Also basically anything by The Killers and, at Anna’s request, The Chainsmokers (Hiccup thinks this is very basic music indeed but goes along with it for her sake XD). AND “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons. And they sing it LOUD. 100. Who would get up on stage and make a fool of themselves just to make the other laugh? Highkey both of them??? I kinda feel like Hiccup moreso though, if his little comedy routine imitating his dad in HTTYD2 is anything to go off of. He definitely wouldn’t be averse to making an idiot of himself to amuse Anna, especially since she’s so damn cute when she laughs. Anna, for her part, loves returning the favor, and is all about trying to do all sorts of Goofy Antics to amuse her boyfriend. And she’s overdramatic af, so she gets WAY too into it XD

#hiccanna #hiccup x anna #anna x hiccup #hiccup #anna #otp questions #hiccupxanna #annaxhiccup #rotbtd #rotbtfd #httyd #frozen #crossover #hiccup haddock #princess anna #queen anna

[spkmth]

          more thoughts from my playthrough of shield.     i have now beaten opal,  melony,  piers,  and raihan.

•     OPAL.     she was great.     she’s my first experience with a strong fairy-type trainer  ( my last pokémon game was hgss so it’s been a hot second )  and i was super nervous but i handled her well thanks to my corviknight and my toxtricity.     her gym challenge was really unique and refreshing.

•     MELONY.     loved the unique take on the usual  ‘arena trap’  ‘fall through the floor’  concept.     her lapras was a bitch,  but toxtricity took care of it before it had the chance to really fuck me over.     her design is a+,  though i wish i could have fought gordie.     ( wanted to fight allister more than bea so i got shield. )

•     PIERS.     where the fuck do i begin.     he was everything i wanted!     his allure ... his confidence ... his fucking battle theme ... everything was perfect.     my own obstagoon + brick break took his down easily,  along with my mudsdale for skuntank.     i really struggled against his malamar,  and immediately went to find myself a contrary inkay afterwards because a contrary malamar + superpower is op as fuck.     sneaky sneaky dark-type gym leader man.     but yeah i adored every second of my fight against him.     i’m very relieved that so many of my headcanons,  which were solely based on research,  still stand up to the canon material now that i’ve experienced it!

•     RAIHAN.     what a lovable dork.     i genuinely felt under pressure when he was watching me battle his gym subordinates.     his battle was the one i dreaded the most,  but i was prepared ;   as i suspected,  my mudsdale wiped the floor with him,  and really his gigalith was the largest threat as i’m still struggling to get a strong water-type and my poor roserade wasn’t quite up to the task of challenging it.     having played through raihan’s arc in the game,  i can now very safely say that i’m disappointed in the depth the game could have given him,  as the champ’s  ‘greatest rival’ ... i’m really glad i can give him some of the characterization the game left out.     smh leon needs to give this man more credit.

•     BIKING ON WATER.     thought i would hate this because i am a surf / fly purist,  but holy hell is this convenient and seamless and awesome.     i’ve taken so many mantines to the face in the lake of outrage,  my current fave grinding spot.

•     THE SOUNDTRACK.     i want to take a minute to recognize how immersive the music in this game is!     everything matches the environment flawlessly :   the mysteriousness of glimwood tangle,  the ethereal beauty of ballonlea,  the regality of hammerlocke,  the intimidating punk rock vibe of spikemuth ... it’s all spot on.     and the music changing the closer you get to piers ... oh boy that’s a nice touch.     marnie’s theme is still my absolute favorite theme ;   i never thought anything would beat out the theme of the legendary titans   ( regirock,  regice,  registeel )   but marnie’s is right up there with it.

•     hop and leon are still fucking irritating.     but you know who i like a lot more than i thought i would?     SONIA.     man i thought i’d dislike the shit out of her but omg she’s precious.     i do wish she’d stop asking a couple of dumb ten year olds important research questions because those cutscenes are irritating,  but that’s not her fault.     in that same vein,  magnolia is awesome.     she’s the grandma i wish i had.

CURRENT TEAM:

•     i’ve had excalibur and coalossal ever since i started the game.     knew i’d need them to go up against leon,  so we’re grinding hardcore right now to get where we need to be.

•     got lucky with flea being the daycare toxel i received!     he’s my best friend and i love his goofy run in camp.     he’s currently my highest level mon at 67 and is a permanent member of my party.

•     working hard to get grendel up to level 70 before i challenge leon.     i know i’ll need a tough fairy-type.

•     sid was the fourth pokémon i caught.     he’s gotten me out of a lot of tough spots and is also my best friend.     he found me a ton of good shit as a zigzagoon / linoone.     he’s also one move away from knowing all the moves that my piers muse’s sid knows!

•     rose is my first ever shiny pokémon in a core game!     she was a complete surprise and the battle to catch her lasted half an hour.     roserade is one of my all-time favorite shinies and i consider myself really lucky to have gotten a shiny i actually like as my first!     i’m hoping to take her against leon’s inteleon   ( i started with scorbunny )   but i might leave that to flea and put a strong ice-type on my team to challenge leon’s dragons.

HOW DOES ANY OF THIS AFFECT MY RPING?

          for piers,  it only makes me love him more.     what a mad lad.     i’m in critical condition with piers brain now.     i will never understand why some people play him as this beleaguered put-upon depressed whiner.     he’s just so badass!     as for raihan ... my relationship with my own raihan muse hasn’t changed,  but i’m sad for canon rai.     they really put him in a box,  didn’t they?     i’m glad i get to give him some deeper characterization since the games clearly didn’t,  and i’m looking forward to fleshing him out more than i already have.     man cannot subsist solely on pokégram and the desire to beat leon’s ass.

#▌ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ( 𝘉𝘜𝘓𝘓𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘛 𝘉𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘈𝘋. ) —— OOC. #guess im livebloggin shield now

[tpsebast92]

A Faded Memory

This is for @versdan‘s writing challenge. #versdan800wc It’s a Steve Rogers x female reader fic with the prompt “Don’t get too comfortable, now. I wouldn’t want you falling for me.”. The reader is a warlock that helps out the Avengers from time to time. She catches Steve’s eye and a relationship blooms. Everything is going well and they begin to plan a future together. However, tragedy strikes during a mission changing everything. Hope you enjoy.

They say the best love stories begin with happiness and end in some kind of tragedy. I didn’t expect it to ever happen to me. All my life, I’d been waiting to meet my soulmate; I finally did in the 40’s, but I had to save the world, losing all chances of living out the rest of my life with her. Over 70 years later, I still wanted to meet the next woman to achieve the same dream.

           Natasha had repeatedly attempted to persuade me into dating someone. Each time I refused. I blamed it on being too busy, but in reality, none of the women she suggested were my type. I wanted someone who wasn’t afraid of adventure, to go out into the fire and risk their life to save others.

           I craved to share the same experience I did and have in the past, but also someone who could be romantic at the end of a long day. Someone who would draw a bubble bath and relax with me. Someone to cuddle with, to kiss…I yearned for love so much, I couldn’t see straight. Once, I thought about giving up and moving on with other priorities; Being an Avenger and taking care of the world around me. I had been so close to accepting being alone; Fate, it appeared had other plans in mind.

           Y/N is a warlock, gifted with abilities to protect everyone with forcefields and spells, which would come in handy with certain entities we faced. People would often compare her to Strange or Loki, but she differed in ways than them. For starters, she has yellow flames that flow from her fingertips and the forcefield would look like bubbles covered in a yellow hue. For another, she has an effect on me like no other.

           I am drawn to her like a moth to a flame, intoxicated by her presence alone. She could make me laugh and her lavender scented baths were exquisite to be in. She impressed me by throwing out a glass vial containing a spell to vanish a horde of squid-like monsters hungry for the tastes of human flesh. They’d dissolved in an instant before the team’s very eyes. The crush I developed on her approached faster than I anticipated, enjoying a movie night where she cuddled close to make room for Bucky. She’d fallen asleep during the third movie, y/h/c brushing against my shoulder.

           I became comfortable with her touch, relishing in those lingering hugs bound to make you go crazy with lust. I longed for one of her meals; she would always make one the team’s favorite dishes something that earned her a top spot on Wanda’s friendship list. In a month, I was hooked on her smile, the way her e/c sparkled with it. In the same month I wasted no time in asking her out, thrilled when she said yes.

Within five months, I wanted her to move into my room; we spent so many nights together underneath the covers whether or not we’d been having sex. Delicious, hot and tender sex. I loved having her naked body pressed against me, to wake with her head on my chest. Within a year, I longed to marry her. I planned it all out; the beach, the walk and picked out the perfect ring. She cried and accepted it. We’d celebrated with our friends, our family. This occurred a few days ago. Before the mission she went on with Natasha, Wanda, Bucky and Strange.

           Before I stood here in the lounge listening to what Natasha was telling me.

           “Steve? Are you listening? Did you hear what I said?” her voice cut through my thoughts. I must have zoned out through it all…or I could be in shock, refusing to believe a word she was saying.

           “I’m sorry. Can you repeat it?” I said. Nat’s eyes were red and bloodshot, as if she had been crying. She sniffed, unable to halt the new flood of tears from falling down her cheeks.

           “Y/N wanted to protect us. The demons were coming too fast, too hard. She held the forcefield as long as she could stand. Strange couldn’t help us. He’d been injured too severely, and Wanda had spent too much energy with the fighting. Y/N said she knew a spell to get rid of them, but it would cost…cost her something,” Nat’s voice broke and the sobs were now wracking her body.

“We didn’t know what it would cost. She wouldn’t tell us. She ordered me to tell you she loved you. Then she forced us back, letting go of the forcefield. She slammed her hands together and mouthed something none of us could decipher. Her hands flew out, the demons screamed and shrieked in pain, and then they were gone. Steve, there was an awful sound and Y/N collapsed,” she continued. My face felt wet. I swiped my cheeks with the back of my hand to discover my tears.

           “Is she okay? She’s not…dead, is she?” I asked. I was afraid of the answer. That Y/N was indeed dead, that I would have to start all over to find someone. I let out a breath of relief when Nat shook her head. A sense of dread washed over me at her prolonged silence.

           “What is it? Tell me. Please, Natasha,” I said. She took a deep breath before the truth was revealed.

           “WE got her to safety on the jet and when she awoke…Steve…she has no memory of us,” Nat said. I sucked in a breath, immediately thrown back into all of our cherished memories.

    Two Years Ago

           The first time I met Y/N was when we were in a need of a specific spell to block against flesh-melting mutants. The intended to harm as many civilians as possible. Under normal circumstances, we would have gone to Strange, but he was off world at the time. Bucky and I stood outside a townhome in Manhattan. Compared to the others surrounding it, this one stood out; the bricks weren’t quite the same brown in color, but instead had a yellow metallic sheen to it.

           “Are you sure this is the right address?” I asked. Bucky read it again while I checked the gate in front. I sighed and we walked up to the front door, golden in color. I knocked, half-expecting a man with horns to greet us. Instead a feminine voice called out ‘yes, how can I be of assistance?’

           “Y/F/N, L/N?” I questioned.

           “Yes, that’s me. Something I can do for you?” she answered.

           “I’m Steve Rogers. Tony Stark called earlier asking for a spell-,” I was cut off by the door opening and a woman with Y/H/C and Y/E/C stepped out.

           “to help us with the flesh-melting things,” I finished. She took my breath away and I felt a tug in my heart towards her.

           “Of course. Come inside. I’ve about finished it. I have to go over the instructions about how to use it. I should go with you. You’ll need a good forcefield until you get ready to use it…” she said. She continued to explain once we stepped inside, the door shutting behind us. It was the same time I knew she could be someone I could potentially see myself with. We continued to use her assistance, becoming good friends with her and forming a strong bond to last forever.

  3 Months later

           “Movie night! Grab drinks, snacks, blankets and sit down,” Tony shouted. Everyone scattered and returned with their choices, scrambling to find a seat.

           “Mind if I sit here?” a voice asked me. I looked up to see Y/N standing neat me, waiting for my reply. I was lost in her E/C that I forgot to say something.

           “Steve?” She asked. She tilted her head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. At this, I was knocked out of my reverie.

           “Uh, yes. You’re welcome to sit here,” I said. She smiled and my heart slammed so hard in my chest, I was afraid she’d hear it. She sat, asking if I wanted to share her blanket. I nodded, watching as she draped it over our legs.

           “Damn. All of the good seats are taken. Can I squeeze in with you guys?” Bucky said as he walked into the lounge.

           “Sure. As long as you don’t mind me being super close to you. Steve? Hello?” Y/N responded. When I didn’t respond right away, she waved her hands in front of my face to get my attention.

           “I don’t mind. Snuggle in,” I squeaked out. She giggled and slid closer; one leg thrown over mine.

           “You’re being weird tonight. Is everything okay?” she asked.

           “I’m fine,” I answered, and movie night began, ending with her head on my shoulder, her even breathing fanning against my neck. Oh boy, was I in trouble?

  5 Months Later

           Y/N and I were together now; we had a successful first date at Coney Island, which ended with dinner at her place. She kissed me good night and the relationship bloomed from there. By the sixth date we had slept together. Y/N had initiated it, pulling me into a kiss and sliding her hands underneath my shirt. I gave in and we had explored each other’s bodies until the morning light when we laid next to each other, her arm draped over my waist, her head on my chest.

           Since then, we split our nights between the compound and her townhome. Tonight, we were at the compound in my room, cuddling naked; we had finished making love and we were in the early stages of pillow talk.

           “Don’t get too comfortable, now. I wouldn’t want you falling for me,” She said. I chuckled, stroking her back.

           “Would that be so terrible? Falling in love?” I asked.

           “Depends on who you’re asking. I like to think anyone who ends up with Strange would be in for trouble,” Y/N answered.

           “What about us?” A sadness crept up in her eyes.

           “I don’t know. My life span lasts a long time. Longer than most mortals. I’m not sure how long the serum in your body extends your own lifespan. I’m worried about getting hurt,” she said.

           “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You know that,”

           “You could hurt me by dying before I’m ready to be parted from you,”

           “It’s too late. I’m already in love with you,” I said. Her eyes flicked up at me and I leaned into kiss her.

           “No. It’s not terrible,” she said after we broke the kiss. “I’d be crazy not to be in love with you,” she continued. I rolled Y/N over capturing her lips in another kiss. This night we’d make love until we ached all over.

  1 Year Later

           I paced the living room in the beach house waiting on Y/N/ Tonight would be the night, I’d propose. To ask her to be mine forever. I’d bring her down to the beach, we’d take a walk and then I’d get down on one knee.

           I double checked, triple-checked to make sure I had the ring in my pocket – a gold band with an emerald cut 14 karat diamond sitting on top – and when she came out of the bedroom, we left the beach house to walk barefoot along the shore. Y/N weaved in and out of the ocean as we talked.

           “Tony and Pepper are married. I think everyone knew they’d be endgame. I wonder if they’ll have any kids. I’d love to spoil them,” she said. She pulled me into the water, the waves creating a frothy pattern around our feet.

           “I don’t know. Maybe. Y/N?” I said. I stopped in my tracks, getting her to face me.

           “What is it?” she asked.

           “I love you. I have for a while. This past year, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the future. How I want to spend it. I want to spend it with you. I have one question. One question that will change out relationship forever. Y/N, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” I proposed. I pulled out the box and opened it to reveal the ring. Tears welled in her eyes and she nodded.

           “Yes, I would love to marry you,” she said. She stood up and I pulled her into a kiss, sliding the ring onto her finger.

           “Now let’s go celebrate,” I said.

   Present Day

           “Where is she?” I asked. My voice shook as the realization hit home.

           “We took her back to her old townhouse,” Nat said. I nodded and sat down on the couch. I held my head in my hands, letting the grief take over.

           “I’m sorry, Steve. I’m so, so sorry,” she said. I could barely hear her over the buzzing in my ears. Y/N. My Y/N had lost her memory. All of it, except of who she was. All of her memories of us. Of me. Of the future we had started together. A thought occurred to me. I slowly lifted my head. There was only one thing to do. Begin again.

   1 Month Later

 “Hey, can I help you with those?” a familiar voice called out. I shifted the box I had been carrying onto one shoulder.

           “Sure. I wouldn’t mind some help moving in,” I said.

           “Perfect. I’ll grab a couple of boxes. I’m Y/N. I guess we’re going to be neighbors,” she said. She held out her hand. I took it, shaking it.

           “Steve Rogers. I guess so. Don’t worry. I won’t cause too much trouble,”

           “Steve Rogers, huh? Life getting to be too much at the compound?” Y/N asked. I chuckled and carded a hand through my hair.

           “Only a little. I thought I could use a break from the team for a few months,”

           “Understandable. Listen, I’m a warlock and if you guys ever need my help with anything, let me know,” she said.

           “I’ll have to take you up on that. But for today, how about you help me finish moving in and in exchange I’ll take you out to dinner?” I asked.

           “It’s a date,” Y/N accepted. Like I said. Time to begin again.

@versdan

#versdan800wc #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #avengers #marvel

[momofaddict]

Well, I'm almost 5 months in. The struggle seems to get worse instead of better, which I halfway expected. I felt so numb in the beginning and distracted with having to take care of a baby at 52 years old.

It is absolutely bizarre the range of emotions that I have felt. I'm sickened by the relief that I feel not having a deal with her addiction anymore. I'm excited, exhausted, and totally feel robbed of the grandmother experience that I've spoken of so many times. I feel embarrassed and like a shitty grandma that I feel relief when my ex takes the baby oftentimes. He never, ever, ever seems exhausted or ready for a break the way that I do. I love that baby with every fiber of my being. But I think I have not yet mourned the loss of the life that I thought I was building for myself. Not to mention my ex barely works at all, so it's easy for him to have energy and excitement for taking the baby as often as possible. He has his own business painting houses. And between losing his daughter, his own depression, and the coronavirus pandemic, he has hardly worked lately. So on top of everything else, I'm paying his bills, because without that, he's unable to help me with the baby.

After Melody died we decided as a family that it would be best that my ex move into the dreaded condo. This is the same condo that my ex-mother-in-law lived in when she had her heart attack. And the same condo that my daughter overdosed in. But that fucking condo is paid off, it was bought with cash. So, because my ex was essentially homeless, he has to live there if he's going to help me. And the only bills are the HOA, and the utilities. Plus there's the added expense of Melody's car that my ex is driving, the car payments that go with it along with the insurance payments. So I'm literally paying all of those plus my own bills so I can have a few days on my own... Until the long awaited inheritance comes from my ex's mother's estate -which will be just enough for my ex to buy a van for his business, get his teeth fixed, and overall get back on his own 2 feet - then my paying his bills stops. Should be in June sometime.

I feel sickened even saying all this. I should be elated to have Melody's flesh and blood offspring in my life, and I am most of the time. Not to mention this kid is amazing. He is so joyful, completely has Melody's spirit, and is about as easy as a baby can be. But that doesn't make my struggle any less.

The level of guilt that I feel because I'm relieved when I have a break from the baby is reprehensible to me. The level of sadness and missing my daughter is incomprehensible to me every time that baby learns something new or does something new. I can literally hear her voice, her laughter, her love for her child every time he pulls up to stand or laughs or crawls or eats his dinner with his own hands or when he babbles "Mamamamama". That's by far when I miss her the most.

I also feel super guilty when I think about if she was still here, knowing the downward spiral that she was on before she overdosed. There's this devil and angel sitting on my shoulders arguing with each other about how I don't miss the addict, but I do miss my daughter. How do you reconcile that? I don't think you can.

I feel like if she was still here, she would be making my life a living hell as an addict, and would have probably died from Corona, because of the major lung and heart damage that she had done to herself, along with the reckless life that goes with being a heroin addict. But near the end of her life, she was literally fighting everyday to find long-term rehab. And what if she had gotten in? I feel like we would have been living the life that we had been for over a year that was clean and sober and fun as hell. There are just so many questions, and scenarios, it boggles my mind.

I found out a lot of stuff after she passed away. I found out that she was far more down the rabbit hole then I thought. She was living the addict life 100% over the last two to three months before she died. I thought that her grandmother getting sick and dying was the catalyst, for the most part. But now, as I said before, she was completely and utterly relapsed. How on God's green earth, after everything I've seen and been through, could I still be so fucking blind? And the pain doesn't stop there. Just the other day I found that my toolbox was missing. She clearly hocked it.

I'm just posting because I don't care what groups are out there for support, I still never feel like I can speak my brutal truth. Not to mention, groups like Nar-Anon and others are all about the God talk. I'm so fucking over the God talk. Can I just find a fucking group where we can just let loose of our feelings no matter how grotesque they are and not have to pray at the beginning in the end of it? I'm always strangely comforted to know when other people have been through what I've been through, while still being sick that this could happen to more than one person, not to mention hundreds of thousands of people. That's the only real reason I want to join any group at all, is just so I don't feel alone in all this mess. So in my mind, I have nowhere else to go accept my Tumblr blog.

I'm so lost, and so alone. I really, genuinely do not know how to deal with my shit. I need to be up and happy and perky for this baby, and for the most part I am. But when it's bedtime, and I'm playing one of mommy's videos for the baby while he drinks his bedtime bottle, he always smiles at a certain part, and I'm shattered every time. There's not a single soul on this Earth that knows how much pain I'm in, but not in the sense that one might think. Yes, I miss my baby girl more than words can express. But I'm so fucking glad the addict is gone. And I feel disgusted even saying that. I also feel a lot of guilt around not promoting his father's memories at all. There's a lot of resentment there, but I feel like the right thing to do is to make sure he remembers his father too. How do I resolve that?

And other logistical thoughts come to mind. Like I am going to be 70 when he turns 18. I'm going to die when he's fairly young (assuming I don't die younger of a car accident or some other stupid shit). It's so not fair to him. And I think about what am I supposed to tell him throughout the years? He's going to know who mama is thru videos on my phone, the pictures on the wall, and the gravesite that we visit all the time. I don't know how I'm going to answer the questions this sweet baby is going to have. I don't know how to tell him how much she loved him and make him understand that she did not choose drugs over him. Drugs chose her over life. I also need to make sure that I put in my will who will take the baby if I die. Let's look at the options... There's my sister who has desperately wanted a child over the last 10 years or so and is 48 years old. She's had mental health issues for as long as she's been alive. To put it bluntly, she's incompetent of having a child full time. She is also narcoleptic I think I mentioned before. Sorry honey, you've got to stay awake for this one. Then there's my ex, who loves the baby equally as I do. But he doesn't have a responsible bone in his body and is an anarchist and conspiracy theorist. He's incapable of taking care of a baby or child from a responsibility standpoint, not to mention the crazy shit he would put in his head as he gets older. Finally there's my son. He's pretty much the only one I would trust to do right by this child. But he's made it quite clear that he's never wanted to be a father. I did ask him about it, and he said that he would accept the task if it came to it. But I want someone who wants the baby, not has to take the baby, not just someone who would accept the responsibility.

I need help, no question about it. But no matter how many Google searches that I do, I can't find a single place or counselor where I can get very specific help for my issues. I don't want to let this baby down. I don't want to fuck him up either. I want to be the very best grandma and mother that I can be for him.

What do I do?

Oh and finally, I've been drinking a lot more - or more frequently. If it was up to me, I'd drink daily. Quantity wise, it's not that much. At most a bottle of wine, mostly when my ex has the baby, but sometimes after he's asleep for the night. I'm not trying to get drunk, per se. Just trying to unclench my muscles and stress. Sometimes it eases my sadness, sometimes it exacerbates it. Plus it helps me fall asleep, which has been a challenge for me since entering menopause. I take a 1/4 bar (.5mg) of Xanax frequently before bed to help sleep, and never up my dose (too scared). But if I skip a couple of days, by the 3rd day I have withdrawals that feel likey old anxiety attacks. I take a quarter & the symptoms fade. Well ain't that just the last thing that I need! I want to phase it out, but as long as I have sleep issues, a job, and a baby, I don't see how I can. I skip days purposely so it remains effective without taking higher doses. Now that I'm working from home, this would be a great time to phase out. But every time I try to skip, I'm tossing and turning all night - which is torture.

I just wish I could get into a yoga routine or any other exercise routine, as well as meditation. I know that that would help all of my issues. But gumption is not exactly my forte right now.

#narcotics addiction #drug addict #heroin addiction #addict #addiction #recovering addict #loss #death by overdose #overdose #mourning #heroin

[watusichris]

At the Black Horse Tavern on Armageddon Street

I said the soul of a nation been torn away…

In the Miracle Mile, the morning overcast locally known as “June gloom” feels deeper this year; the very air seems gray. I only escape the lockdown when I shop for groceries, in the hours the supermarket is open early for older customers. I do not drive, and, with public transportation out of the question, I am pinioned at home. Just to avoid atrophying completely, I flee my apartment for a masked walk of at least a mile every day, usually before sundown. If I walk up Wilshire, I pass dozens of empty office buildings and vacant storefronts; even restaurants with WE’RE OPEN signs in their windows are dark. It’s like something out of the 1959 atomic apocalypse movie On the Beach. The neighborhood seems almost entirely populated by the homeless who occupy the sidewalks along the boulevard. Some have been here for years. They have their spots staked out, and if they disappear you fear that something has happened to them. At night, the 8 p.m. hoots and cheers for essential workers have now died down. Distant fireworks, what sounds like gunfire, and sirens (from engines housed at the nearby fire station and squad cars from the Wilshire Division) are heard constantly. Police helicopters have always hovered every evening – Loudon Wainwright III, who used to live in the Mile, wrote a song about them, “Here Come the Choppers,” naming some local landmarks. Now they drop lower, so low that at times I fear one will land atop my building. In late May, after the Black Lives Matter protests sparked large demonstrations in my neighborhood and attendant nearby crimes committed by apolitical opportunists, I looked out my living room window and watched a looter drop out of a window at the Walgreens a block away.

It was into this vortex of disease, poverty, discord, and dread that Bob Dylan’s first album of new songs in eight years, Rough and Rowdy Ways, fell like some kind of miracle, on Juneteenth 2020.

The record was prefaced by a fanfare. On March 27, at the stroke of midnight in the East, an e-mail from Dylan’s publicist landed in my mailbox, containing a link to a new song, “Murder Most Foul,” a nearly 17-minute opus that used the 1963 assassination of John F. Kennedy as a springboard.

Now, even without its personal associations, this unexpected materialization would have been momentous. But the song pierced me to the heart, for on the day Kennedy was shot in Dallas, my mother gave me The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, the first record of his I ever owned; she had bought it as a Christmas present, but she thought it would console me, and she put it in my hands early. My mind reeling back, I listened to the new song, about Kennedy and the swell of American history and music, over and over on the night I received it. It manifested as another gift.

Two more songs, “I Contain Multitudes” and “False Prophet,” served as preludes to the arrival of the new full-length, which finally ended Dylan’s 2015-17 cycle of interpretations from the Frank Sinatra catalog of standards at a staggering five LPs worth. But the new record did not mark a definitive break with the sound and style of Shadows in the Night, Fallen Angels, and Triplicate.

Though a couple of the new tunes out of the 10 tracks rock in Dylan’s laid-back latter-day manner, the approach is largely subdued. The instruments are close-mic’ed, the atmosphere is tactile, the playing (largely by Dylan’s road band, with ringers like Fiona Apple, Blake Mills, Alan Pasqua, and Benmont Tench) is hushed and soft-focus. Only the addition of humming choral vocals on a couple of songs seems a new wrinkle.

The first time I listened to Rough and Rowdy Ways, I landed, hard, on one of those latter tracks, “I’ve Made Up My Mind to Give Myself to You.” Introduced by the vocal choir-of-sorts, it is a ballad sporting some of Dylan’s most poignant singing. The Never Ending Tour has left his voice mangled, still, but he stretches as far as he can into his upper register here, his rhythmic sense sure as ever, offering a declaration of devotion and humility of surprising beauty. The first time I listened to it, tears leaped into my eyes.

The more I listened to the album, the more I wondered if that song was about a woman or about God. There are more references, direct and indirect, to religion on this record than there have been on any since the ones Dylan made during his born-again conversion of the ‘70s. Usually they play in the background. The only song to foreground the subject, “Goodbye Jimmy Reed,” plays the topic for comedy, and its denial of secular music has to be taken as tongue-in-cheek – the song rides a Reed-style shuffle that tips its hat, and hand, to the bluesman’s hit songs of the ‘50s and ‘60s. (The album’s other overt rocker, “False Prophet,” drinks from the same well: As many early auditors noted, the song is purloined from “If Loving is Believing,” an obscure Sun Records B-side by Billy the Kid Emerson.)

Questions of the soul crop up along the road; in “Murder Most Foul,” Dylan muses that Kennedy’s soul couldn’t be found during his autopsy. These glancing queries really come as no surprise, coming as they do from a 79-year-old musician who is no doubt weighing his own narrowing future and the transport of his own soul. While one can’t truly say that Rough and Rowdy Ways has an air of finality to it, it certainly reflects a reckoning with the past, at times in spades.

History is repeatedly pulled into the present here. Dylan gave his game away from the first with “Murder Most Foul,” which was animated by a cascade of allusion, literary and musical references, and brainy in-jokes. (The album is broadly funny at times, most brazenly on “Goodbye Jimmy Reed” and on “My Own Version of You,” a left-handed jape in which the singer takes the role of Victor Frankenstein.) “Mother of Muses” plays with antiquities: Using an invocation straight out of Homer, Dylan professes his love for Calliope, the Greek muse of epic poetry, perhaps admitting himself into a pantheon occupied by Whitman (celebrated in “I Contain Multitudes”), Blake, Ginsberg, and Corso, who are also namechecked on the record. “What would Julius Caesar do,” he asks at one juncture, and answers with “Crossing the Rubicon,” which drolly translates Caesar’s military boldness in internal, personal terms.  “Key West” is a geographic reverie that touches lightly on events from the songwriter’s teenage years, and makes an unlikely reference to Harry S. Truman’s Little White House. Doctors of Dylanology will be kept busy by this pile-up of history for years.

The violence of history lurks everywhere on Rough and Rowdy Ways. Usually it is stated as a threat – Dylan walks heavily armed, threatening to hack off a limb if he’s challenged. That violence is of course completely overt on “Murder Most Foul,” the alpha and omega of the record: The song was the first to see release, like an exclamation, and it takes pride of place on the album, set off by itself on a disc of its own.

Part conspiracy theory, part thriller, an eruption of cultural confluences, “Murder Most Foul” would be a baffling, thrilling, and all-embracing opus no matter when it was released. But, though it appears to take a long view of a historic occurrence that shook its then 22-year-old author’s life and heart, it holds a greater, contemporary resonance. Recorded in early 2020, unleashed into the world amid great darkness in the fourth year of another American president’s monstrous, conscienceless rule, that remarkable song – about law, crime, the republic, and what Dylan calls “the age of the Antichrist” – carried resonances that were hidden, and felt more than stated. It is the jewel of a deep, knowing work that is only beginning to reveal its most profound meanings, and one that offers succor to its listeners, we who daily claw our way toward the light. “It’s darkest before the dawn,” Dylan sings on “Crossing the Rubicon,” and then he adds, sotto voce, “(oh God).” In that telling moment lies his truest prayer.

(photo: Miracle Mile/Wilshire Boulevard, Los Angeles, June 18, 2020)

[wintersxsoul]

The Night We Danced

Summary: Two dorks in love that have to wait to get drunk to confess their feelings.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Maybe some language, drunk people and I think mentions of sex?? 

A/N: This is my entry for my dearest @writingsoftheloser 1k historical writing challenge! I got the Victorian Era, so I came up with this longass nonsense. I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback and reblogs are free and make me really happy and motivated <3

  Bucky Barnes was a dancer.

He sometimes had flashes of his old life in the late 30’s and 40’s, long summer nights dancing with beautiful dames, little Stevie by his side laughing and stepping in the ladies’ shoes. Everything was much more simpler, happier, but war happened and the dances turned into battles, the warm hands that he was used to hold became rifles and glocks. The jazzy tunes turned into gunfire, dates turned into risky missions and the thought of a long happy life turned into dust when he fell off that train.

Bucky Barnes stopped being a dancer to be a soldier, a spy, a deadly assassin.

They had taken all he was away, all his memories, his hopes and dreams. Everything was wiped but not his motor skills or knowledge. They turned him into the most efficient soldier, cold and calculating, his only motive in life was completing his missions. He had killed mercilessly, not questioning even once who was in front of the gun, he just knew he had to pull the trigger.

Everything changed the moment Steve Rogers, his best friend since childhood, found him 70 years after being used and tortured. Steve saved him from the claws of Hydra and gave him the opportunity to gain back his own self, to finally give his life meaning again.

His life changed drastically when he joined the Avengers, he could use his unrequired skills to help people, to save lives. He had his closest friends, Steve of course, Sam, Nat and then he met you. Once he was able to recover almost all his memories, he had a long heartfelt conversation with Natasha since she had suffered in similar ways. The brainwashing, the body killing training, the horrors of the Cold War and the cruelty of the Red Room.

You and Nat were inseparable, both becoming SHIELD agents the same year. You were a freelance hitwoman, both of your missions were to kill the same target. But before you could kill each other, SHIELD stepped in and rescued both of you, seeing your potential and the ability to do the missions other agents weren’t able to. When Bucky first came to the compound, you were away because your last mission went badly and it almost killed you, so Fury and Steve decided it was better for you to lay low for a while. Months went by and Bucky’s curiosity only grew, he really wanted to meet you, since everyone talked about you like you were an angel. When the time came to finally meet you, everything he ever heard about you was not nearly accurate to him. You were as much of a mystery as Nat, but unlike her, you opened up to him fastly, trusting him blindly. You both held each other on your worst nights and were also there for the other when you needed a good laugh.

You could have never imagined that the infamous Winter Soldier could be such an absolute dork with such a pure heart and soul. At first he was a bit sulky and moody, he was like a ghost around the compound, but months of therapy and help from his friends turned him into the man he was today, the man you loved deeply, even though you lied to yourself trying to make it seem like a platonic feeling. For years you remained as best friends, until the masquerade ball Tony organized for Natasha’s birthday.

“So, what are your plans for the party?” You asked Bucky nonchalantly while you looked for costume designers online. He looked up from his book and shrugged, he really didn’t know what you meant but he knew you would elaborate. You closed your laptop and placed it on your nightstand, all your attention on your friend now. You laid across the bed, resting your head on his lap. You were staring at the ceiling so you totally missed Bucky’s adoring gaze.

“Well, apart from getting hammered with Thor’s Asgardian alcohol, I don’t really know.” You rolled your eyes internally at his comment. You laid on your stomach so you could face him, your chin resting on your hands on top of his chest.

“Obviously you are doing that, but it’s not what I meant.” Bucky chuckled and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t sure about asking him to be your partner, maybe he was planning on going with someone else, maybe he wanted to go on his own. You cleared your throat while reaching out to fiddle with the laces of his hoodie nervously.

“Are you going with someone?” He frowned, realizing that you didn’t assume (like he did) that you were going together. Maybe you were planning to go with a date? He knew it had been more than a year since you had dated someone so maybe you wanted to use the party as an excuse to do so?

“What you mean with someone? I d-”

“You should ask Sarah from Forensics, I’ve heard she has a huge crush on you. She’s sooo soft and pretty. I have her number if you wa-”

“Okay, Y/n stop right there. I am not going with Sarah or with anyone else but you.” His eyes widened at his own boldness but he quickly found a logical explanation.

“I mean, we always go together to this kind of shitty parties we both dread. But if you are going with someone else is fine.”

“Yeah, yeah I just thought that maybe you wanted to go with an actual date and not your best friend.” He tousled your hair and you whined jokingly. He mumbled “dork” and you stuck your tongue out.

“My best friend is pretty cool and when she gets drunk the party starts, so I am not missing that for Sarah from Forensics.”

“Oh god James, and I am the dork? You absolute dumbass.” You shook your head in amusement and sat on the bed, putting your disheveled hair in a low ponytail. You slapped him lightly on the right shoulder and got down of the bed, gathering your stuff.

“I can’t stand to see that beautiful stupid face right now, I have to look for a fucking dress. You better wear something in dark red cause, you know it-”

“it’s my color” he mocked you using a high pitched tone of voice and laughed at the face of disgust you jokingly pulled off.

“Fuck you.”

“Why don’t you f-” His sentence was cut off by the bang of his door closing but you already knew what he said. You rolled your eyes and made your way to Nat’s room since you needed to organize shopping days and all that stuff.

-

Bucky Barnes was a dancer and fortunately he still had some moves, but waltzing was out of his league. He knew what a masquerade was of course, so the fact that he had to learn how to dance a completely different style was...frightening to say the least. He talked about it with Steve so they both were headed now to a masterclass while their dates were out shopping. Nat had asked Steve as her date because she wanted to go with his best friend. Their friendship was the most platonic you’ve ever seen and watching them flirt and banter was the highlight of your days. Nat was a fantastic dancer of course, she used to be a fucking ballerina, so she offered to teach you some moves. She was the only one who actually knew your feelings towards Bucky because you had confessed them one night you had drank your weight in vodka and when you saw Bucky’s text asking you to please be careful, you laughed and told her. You didn’t remember that conversation and when Natasha tried to ask you, she realized she shouldn’t bring up the topic until you were ready to believe it yourself.

“Ooof Nat, should I really buy this expensive dress?” You asked her while checking yourself out in the mirror. The dress was absolutely stunning, made of a dark red taffeta or a similar material, short sleeved and a beautiful v-neck, not very revealing but enough to make your babies pop. The bodice hugged your curves and the skirt was puffy.

“Listen, Stark is paying for everything, that includes our dresses. So yes, you are going to buy it.” She stood up and lead you back to the changing room so she could purchase both of your dresses.

Steve sighed heavily at Bucky’s complaints. They’d been dancing for four hours straight and they weren’t getting any better, or at least that’s what they thought. Bucky really couldn’t believe he had been dragged into this mess just because he loved getting drunk with you under any circumstances.

“Come on Buck, don’t worry. You two will probably be too drunk to even stand, why bother so much in learning this shit?” Bucky rolled his eyes and nudged his friend on the shoulder.

“Listen pal, I wanna do this right. You know how much I love dancing so this is just an excuse to learn something new.” He could almost believe his own lie, but Steve knew better. He knew Bucky better than himself, so he obviously knew the unspoken thing that was going on between two of his best friends.

“Okay buddy, whatever you say. I just hope Y/n appreciates all this instead of laughing at you like Sam and Nat are probably going to do.” He muttered something to himself and left the room without saying a word.

“Fucking idiots, I hope they fuck soon.” Steve said to himself before turning around and smiling at the dance teacher.

“Let’s do this Janet, I have a very dangerous woman to impress tonight.”

-

“I really, really, really, really regret the day I gave you access to come into my room whenever you want to.” You told Bucky, who was laying on your bed on his stomach, his face buried in the pillows. You slumped next to him and buried your face in the pillows as well. You really thought you looked like idiots but you couldn’t care less.

“Can we stay here? We can watch one of those victorian romantic movies you love and get wasted on our own.”

“You know I would love to, but Nat would kill us. Besides, you hate those movies.”

“I was just trying to persuade you Barnes, you don’t need to be so rude.” You stood up and opened your first drawer, pulling out the two masks you had bought throwing Bucky’s to his head and he responded with a fake “ouch”. He sat on the bed and looked at you amused, the small mask in his hands.

“And you have the nerve to call me rude. I already have my mask and I won’t show it to you until tonight.”

“Wow, sorry for thinking about you and your shitty memory, old man.”

“You know what Y/n? I’ll see you tonight before I throw myself out of that balcony.” You giggled at his fake tantrum. You really loved your friendship with Bucky, because even though you were always joking around each other, you had your backs. He was always there and so were you.

“You want me to walk you to your room?” He frowned at you but his eyes widened when he realized what you were about to say, but you said it before he could cut you off. “In case you don’t remember where your room is at.”

“That was one time Y/n, please let it go.”

“Never.” And with that said, he left. You giggled remembering the first night you two got drunk together. It was the first time Bucky had tried Thor’s alcohol so he was excited to finally get drunk after all those decades. He drank by himself almost three flasks and encouraged you to drink a bottle of vodka on your own, so at 6 am, you were stumbling through your room floor because Bucky had forgotten where his own room was, so he wanted to sleep at yours.

You took a last look at yourself in your mirror and placed the mask in its place. It was a shame that Bucky had decided not to wear the mask you’d bought for him, but his taste was pretty great so you knew it was going to be amazing.

When you reached the party the place was already full of people. Everyone was dancing to the slow melodies or drinking at the bar. You noticed that Tony had removed all the furniture from the room so it looked like a grand dance hall, the usual modern lamps he owned were replaced by huge golden crystal chandeliers, the windows were covered by thick curtains that looked like the ones European palaces had. The cream and golden tones of all the decoration gave a really regal look to the party, the soft glow of the candles in the bar and the sound of champagne glasses relaxed your senses.

You fixed your long silk gloves and sighed, moving through the crowd towards the bar, where Nat stood chatting with who you assumed it was Steve, Sam was behind the counter pouring alcohol to his half empty glass.

“You mind filling this lady’s glass?” Sam smirked and you winked at him. He raised his eyebrow under his cream and red mask and he took out a tall glass.

“What would the lady like to drink?” He rested both of his palms in the counter, looking at you with an amused look in his eyes.

“Vodka on the rocks, s'il vous plait.” You heard Nat choke on her drink and Steve turned to look at you while Sam just poured your drink, a smile playing on his lips.

“Aren’t we starting a bit early, Y/n? Your date is not even here.” You shrugged at Sam’s comment and took the glass when he handed it.

“Since you all seemed so surprised with my drinking choices, I’m going. I need an unjudging friend right now.” You waved your hand gracefully and moved towards the centre, trying to find Bucky. After five minutes and an empty glass, you saw his bulking figure talking to some woman. You needed a moment to gather your thoughts because he looked absolutely sinful with the outfit he was wearing. The black pants marked all his muscles, specially his thighs, those fucking thighs that drove you insane and his ass...you shook your head trying to stop your mind. You needed another drink.

“Wow look who’s back and empty handed!” Steve said to the small group. You nudged him in the ribs and asked Sam for another glass of alcohol.

“Why are you this flustered Y/n?” Nat asked you when she noticed your flushed cheeks. You fixed your mask trying to hide your nervousness and failing miserably.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your three friends shared a knowing look and you rolled your eyes, finishing your drink in two sips and encouraged by the burning liquid, you went to where Bucky was. You could now see his whole outfit perfectly and your heart swelled. He was wearing a black ruffled shirt with a black and dark red embroidered vest and a black tail coat. His face was covered by a simple half Venetian mask, decorated with the same colors as the outfit’s. He was chatting with some agent you couldn’t recognize and you felt a pang of jealousy at how he was looking at her, smiling and touching her. At that moment you realized the alcohol was kicking in and that’s why you were having those stupid thoughts. You approached your friend and placed your gloved hand to his shoulder, indicating him that you were besides him and waiting for him to pay attention to you. You catched a part of the conversation and they were talking about one of the last missions the undercover agents did, so after a court nod from Bucky and a brief goodbye from her, his eyes were on you.

“Well, look at you!” He smiled at you warmly and you felt something flip inside you. “How did you recognize me?”

“Oh boy, you can mask that face all you want but you can’t mask those thighs.” You smirked and he started laughing at your comment, making you feel proud of your wittiness.

“How drunk are you already?” You brought your hand up between your bodies and pressed your thumb and index together whispering “a little” so only he could hear it.

“Lucky for you, I drank almost a flask, so that makes us dangerous already. Wanna dance?” He extended his hand and you took it accepting his invitation. You suddenly felt really nervous since it was the first time you were going to slow dance with him but unbeknown to you, Bucky Barnes felt sick due to his nerves. He wanted this to work, he wanted to show you and the world that he was still capable of being a soft person, not this cold calculative soldier with a dark past.

The feeling of his hand on your waist and your other hands intertwined was intoxicating you, your bodies pressed together, the only thing between you two were your clothes. You spinned around the room for what felt like eternity, time for you had stopped and everyone had disappeared.

You burst the small bubble you were both in saying you needed a drink, Bucky stopped swaying you and with your hands still intertwined, went to the empty bar.

“I’ve always loved the Victorian Era, you know?” He said while giving you a glass full of vodka, and took a sip of his flask. “The clothes, the courting, the chivalry and all that fuss.” He smiled sadly at you thinking that you wouldn’t notice.

“If you could, would you go back in time and stay?”

He took another sip, now longer, and shook his head. “Of course not, you wouldn’t be there.” He blurted out without thinking and you just giggled at the comment.

“Oh Barnes, don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure you would make good friends there as well.” You gave him a sincere smile and he shook his head again, taking another sip of the flask, this time a long one. You looked down at your glass and twirled the straw, looking at how the ice cubes collided with each other.

“I love you.” You jerked your head up and maybe it was the alcohol clouding your mind or the denial of your own feelings, but you didn’t notice his intense gaze, filled with love and adoration.

“And I love you too, you idiot. As my best friend, you should know that already.” You placed your lips around the straw and finished the whole drink, Bucky still looking at you shocked that you rejected his feelings without you noticing.

“No, Y/n, what I mean is that I’m-”

“You are what, Barnes?” Nat cut Bucky off and you threw yourself into her arms, kissing her face and wishing her a happy birthday. “I missed you, Nat. Where were you?” You started talking to her totally ignoring your friend, who got that as his cue to leave the party. He would never blame you for not feeling the same or not even noticing his feelings, that was totally on him, but he didn’t feel well enough to stay in the party. He knew you wanted him there, to get drunk together and then both of you ending up throwing up in the sink and the toilet, but tonight he needed to breathe, he needed to get out of the crowd.

“Hey, where is going Bucky?” Asked Steve while he approached Nat and you. You frowned and looked at the entrance, catching a glimpse of Bucky’s broad shoulders and hair leaving the party. “I’ll be back in a sec.” You said and stumbled down the bar stool, heading towards the entrance half running.

“We both know they are not coming back, right?” Steve said to Nat, a strong nod and a sigh answered his comment.

You ran as fast as your drunken state let you but before you could notice you slipped with the dress and fell.

“FUCK” You screamed to the empty hall and took off your heels and gloves, standing up trying not to fall again on your ass. Bucky was nowhere to be seen so you headed to his room, your head spinning due to the alcohol.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky startled you, making you lose balance but he caught you before you could fall again.

“I was just checking that you got to your room safely, since you know, you get lost and all that.” You laughed at his fake hurt expression and straightened your clothes. You noticed that he had taken off his mask and that you were still wearing yours. “Why did you leave?”

“I’m feeling a bit sick, I think I drank too mu-”

“James, if you don’t tell me what the fuck is wrong I’ll torture you until you do. The drinking excuse is the worst you could’ve used with me.”

Bucky sighed defeated, he knew he had to get it off his chest, after three years carrying this on his own, he needed to let the words out, he needed you to know. He reached for the laces of your mask and took it off, placing a strand of hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek.

“I love you, Y/n.” You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance just to mess up with him.

“Baby, we already established that I lov-”

“Y/n, you are not listening. I am in love with you. I want to be your best friend, your lover, your partner in crime and your drunk buddy.”

You stared at him wide eyed, not knowing what to answer or to do. He caressed your cheek with his thumb and you gasped at the feeling, making Bucky think that you were rejecting the act. You stopped him from moving his hand and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours lightly.

“Either you kiss me or I faint, so make a m-” And just like that, his lips crashed against yours with a passion and hunger you’ve never felt in your entire life. He pressed you against the door, the stupid huge dress stopping you from feeling anything. Your brain finally woke up and you realized what was going on. Bucky Barnes loved you, he was in love with you. And you were in love with him. You pulled away and stopped him, making him step backwards scared that he did something you didn’t want to.

“You love me?” You really asked him, thinking that maybe your brain was betraying you. He nodded and looked away, not wanting to see the rejection in your eyes.

“Hey coward, look at me.” You held his chin and forced him to look at you. “I love you too, always have. I was just too damn scared to admit it to even myself.” He smiled and kissed you again, this time slower, pouring every ounce of love he had for you in the kiss.

“What now?” He asked you once he pulled away to breathe. He had his hand on the back of your neck, caressing your skin with his thumb.

“As much as I’d love you to fuck me against every surface on that room, I am drunk and tired and I need to process everything.” He nodded and waited for you to come up with what you wanted to do next. “So you are going to take this dress off me carefully cause I can’t do it on my own and it’s expensive as fuck, you are going to give me one for your shirts and we are sleeping, together.” He nodded again and smiled, leaning in again to give your lips a small peck.

“Consider it done, asshole.”

#vi1khistoricalchallenge #Bucky Barnes #james barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #the winter soldier #mutual pining #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #avengers #the avengers #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[evilelitest2]

Since you do film, what are your thoughts about Martin Scorsese saying Marvel films aren't art.

Just to clarify, I do film theory, I never actually take a film making class in my life.  

I think the debate is extremely stupid and but it sort of is adjacent to a bunch of other more interesting debates.   

For the record, I dislike most of the Marvel movies with a few exceptions (Guardians of the Galaxy, Thor Ragnarok, Black Panther), with most of them being various forms of bland.  Even for the ones I like, I don’t think any of them are brilliant save the first season of Jessica Jones, which sort of redeems the MCU in my eyes.  DC fans shouldn’t take that as an endorsment though, I actually dislike DC more than Marvel, and the DCU has just been a dumpster fire.  I don’t like superhero media, movie or comics generally though, so bear that in mind. 

Ironically, I actually don’t particularly like Scorsesese as a director, I think Taxi Driver is brilliant, but i’m largely unimpressed with most of the other films i’ve seen by him, I kinda liked Raging Bull and King of Comedy, Goodfellows was ok, Casino unimpressive, and Wolf of Wall Street awful save one scene, while Gangs of New York and the Departed was just dreadful To be fair, i haven’t seen Last Temptation of Christ or the rest of his Christian trilogy so maybe I’ve missed out on his best work.

So I basically dislike most of the cinematography of everybody involved so let me just say...all of it is cinema.  Like many of the movies are terrible, but they are still movies, you can’t say something isn’t a film must because it is bad.  Honestly saying that Marvel films should be viewed as a new artistic medium rather than film is kinda giving it too much credit, it implies it is more experimental than it actually is.  They are just bad movies, bad movies all around.  

What is annoying about all of this is that there are several more interesting debates standing on the edge of this stupid ‘is it film or not” discussion.   Such as 

1) IS the MCU a net positive for cinema or a negative?  

To which I say, like the Blockbuster era before it, largely negative,  I think this approach to film is extremely limiting and is part of my dislike of Hollywood as a whole.  BUt i will say, if I have to live in an era full to the brim of terrible anti intellectual movies that don’t feel like challenging people, at least the Marvel movies are like...a bit more diverse.  With a single exception, I don’t think any of them really take much risks, but they are at the very least making some progress in helping women and people of color get more visibility.   

The one exception is Black Panther, which was totally a risk and really was quite radical in terms of a big hollywood movies, though I didn’t enjoy it as a film, I think what it did was overall good. 

Despite my dislike of the MCU, I wouldn’t have a problem with it if we had more movies overall, but one of the problems with the corporate film buisness model is that Hollywood excs are terrified of risk, leading to a pretty dismal cinematic landscape overall.  

(or even just blockbusters...ahem)

2) Disney as a company

Fuck Disney, Fuck their Monopolies, Fuck their buying fox, we need anti trust and anti copyright laws to clear this nonsense up. 

3) I do think people in general need to move away from the sort of form of entertainment that mostly Hollywood films tend to offer, but that critique is not unique to the Marvel, I’ve been complaining about that long before Marvel movies was even a thing.  

4) There is also a legitimate critique that the era that Marin is nostalgic for was an era where only white men were making mainstream hollywood films, and while I do think the 70s was one of the high points for American mainstream film, that is a totally legit critique.  I want a more intelligent less corporate approach to film, but I would ideally want it to be inclusive as well

5) Also fan culture is fucking toxic both from the Marvel films who are up in arms because somebody said a mean thing about their movies (somebody with no power to actually enforce it btw) and DC fans who don’t seem to understand that when Scorsese says “marvel movie” he means “Comic book movie” i guarantee you, Scorsese is not a fan of Batman v Superman...because he has you know...taste.  I am really annoyed at Marvel fans who are actually ok with Disney monopolistic practices because it means the MCU can get larger, like applauding the acquisition of Fox because it means the Fantastic Four can be in Marvel films.  Hell I saw people calling for Disney to buy Sony simply so they can keep Spiderman like....i hate fandom 

In short....support anti monopoly laws.  

#Ask EvilElitest #Martin Scorsese #MCU #Marvel Films #Marvel Comics #Taxi Driver #DCU #Disney #Monopoly #Anti-monopoly laws #Film #cinemia

[faithfulcat111]

Fishing Stories

Summary: Roman and his father share stories while fishing.

Word Count: 805

Roman Like the Font Masterpost

“Dad!” Roman whined. “I’m bored!”

Emilie look over at his son and his teddy bear with a smirk, “Hi bored! I’m Dad!”

Roman groaned, “You know what I mean. Fishing is boring.”

Emilie gasped dramatically, “Fishing is boring! I’ve never heard such slander! Fishing is the perfect opportunity to just sit here and think about things.”

“What things?” Roman asked.

“Anything! From the deepest mysteries of the universe to what we are having for dinner next week.”

“Seems calming to me,” Patton spoke up from the other side of Roman.

“Boring!” Roman declared. “Can’t I at least read a book?”

Emilie dramatically opened his mouth to answer a simple, “No.”

Roman groaned again, “Then can I at least get a story?”

Emilie thought for a moment, “I think that is doable.”

“Tell a story of a brave bear,” Patton said. “A bear who has to travel across space to fight the dreaded pi-”

“This is the story of a fisherman,” Emilie began.

“Why does no one listen to me?” Patton groaned. Roman smiled at him, pulling his friend into his lap for the story.

“The fisherman was out fishing one day. The fish were very evasive, avoiding the bait the fisherman had put down. But the fisherman was very, very, very patient. And after being a patient for a very long time, he felt a tug on his line. So, he reeled in with all his might. There was a fish on the line! But this fish was no ordinary fish. For the minute he reeled the fish in, the fish said to him, ‘Do not eat me young fisherman. For I am no ordinary fish. I am a magic wishing fish. If you let me go, I will grant whatever wish your heart desires.’ And the fisherman did. And his heart’s desire, to catch a fish for dinner, was granted.”

Roman sat there for a long moment before asking, “That was it?”

“Yup, you think you can do better?” Emilie challenged.

“That was boring! We can totally do better!” Patton declared, looking up at Roman.

“Yes,” Roman sat Patton down beside him. “The fisherman reeled in the wishing fish. She said, ‘If you let me go, I will grant you whatever you desire.’ The fisherman thought about it for a long minute before saying, ‘What if we did this, magic, wishing fish. A talking fish isn’t exactly common in the world. We go on tour around the world! We become rich and we split the earnings 70-30.’ The fish thought about it before saying, ‘60-40.’ The the two went on an adventure, seeing the world, the fish performing everywhere they went. And they got to meet so many other magical creatures and neither ever regretted leaving the pond behind.”

Emilie laughed, “You’re right, that is better.”

“Of course I am,” Roman said with a smile. “Dad, can I ask you about something?”

“Sure, what is it?” Emilie asked.

“Can you please tell me more about Papa? I’m eight now, so that means I am older. And you said that you would tell me about him when I was older,” Roman begged.

Emilie stiffened slightly, “What do you want to know, Roman?”

“What about before I was born? Surely you can tell me something about that,” Roman asked.

Emilie sighed, “I suppose. Um, well, before you were born we had a lot of animals.”

“Really?” Roman gasped. “You had animals?”

Emilie laughed, “Yeah. Your Papa worked at the animal shelter in town. He brought home a lot of animals. We were seriously lucky we lived out of the city on the farm and that your Papa got a discount on food and feed. We had several dogs and cats. A couple of pigs. Some chickens. All outdoor because our jobs kept us away all day. But all fixed and very well-taken care of. I never saw him happier than then.”

“What happened?” Roman tentatively asked.

Emilie grimaced, “Your Papa. He was good at his job. And he got promoted. But that meant he… He didn't like all the aspects of his job. But he was always a nervous person. He never tried to make waves. But he got more sad because of his job and he eventually couldn’t handle having all the animals around. And one by one, they got given away. I think we gave away the last dog shortly before you were born. Lucky though with your fear of dogs. He hated the idea though of you growing up without pets like we had. That’s why he got you Patton. To give you a friend.”

“Papa got me Patton?” Roman asked, scooping up his friend again.

“Yup. Made his sweater and everything. He was good at stuff like that,” Emilie said.

“Yeah, he was,” Patton whispered snuggling in closer to Roman.

#roman sanders #emile picani #faith writes #my writing #background character death #but can you figure out who Papa is #roman like the font

[ketosupplementscanada-blog]

Going Keto: Why It's Actually Good For You

Keto diets have really come on strong in the past year and a half and for good reason. It's a great way to not only shed those unwanted pounds quick, but also a great way to get healthy and stay that way. For those that have tried the Keto Diet and are still on it, it's more than just a diet. It's a way of life, a completely new lifestyle. But like any major shift in our lives it is not an easy one, it takes an incredible amount of commitment and determination. Good for Some But not for all? - Although a ketogenic diet has been used to greatly improve people's quality of life, there are some out there who do not share the majority's way of thinking. But why is that exactly? Ever since we can remember we have been taught that the only way to get rid of the extra weight was to quit eating the fat filled foods that we are so accustomed to eating every day. So instructing people to eat healthy fats (The key word is Healthy) you can certainly understand why some people would be skeptical as to how and why you would eat more fat to achieve weight lost and achieve it fast. This concept goes against everything we have ever known about weight loss. How Keto Started - Discovered by endocrinologist Rollin Woodyatt in 1921 when he found that 3 water -soluble compounds Aceture, B-hydroxybutyrate and Acetoacetate (Known together as Ketone bodies) were produced by the liver as a result of starvation or if the person followed a diet rich with high fat and very low carbs. Later on that year a man from the Mayo Clinic by the name of Russel Wilder named it the "Ketogenic Diet," and used it to treat epilepsy in young children with great success. But because of advancements in medicine it was replaced. My Struggles Starting Keto - I started Keto February 28th 2018, I had made an attempt at the Keto Diet once before about 6 months prior but was never able to make it through the first week. The first week on Keto is the worst part of the entire process, this is when the dreaded Keto Flu appears also called the carb flu. The Keto Flu is a natural reaction your body undergoes when switching from burning glucose (sugar) as energy to burning fat instead. Many people who have gone on the Keto Diet say that it actually feels similar to withdrawing from an addictive substance. This can last anywhere between 3 days to an entire week, it only lasted a few days in my case. People who have had the keto Flu report feeling drowsy, achy, nauseous, dizzy and have terrible migraines among other things. The first week is usually when people attempting a Keto Diet fail and quit, just remember that this happens to everyone early in the process and if you can get past the first week the hardest part is over. There are a few remedies you can use to help you get through this rough spell. Taking Electrolyte supplements, staying hydrated, drinking bone broth, eating more meat and getting plenty of sleep. Keto Flu is an unfortunate event that occurs to everyone as the body expels the typical day-to-day diet. You just have to power through. What Does A Ketogenic Diet Look Like? - When the average person eats a meal rich in carbs, their body takes those carbs and converts them into glucose for fuel. Glucose is the body's main source of fuel when carbs are present in the body, on a Keto diet there are very low if any at all carbs consumed which forces the body to utilize other forms of energy to keep the body functioning properly. This is where healthy fats come into play, with the absence of carbs the liver takes fatty acids in the body and converts them into ketone bodies. An ideal Keto diet should consist of: • 70-80% Fat • 20-25% Protein • 5-10% Carbs You should not be eating more than 20g of carbs per day to maintain the typical Ketogenic diet. I personally ate less than 10g per day for a more drastic experience but I achieved my initial goals and then some. I lost 28 lbs. in a little under 3 weeks. What Is Ketosis? - When the body is fueled completely by fat it enters a state called "Ketosis," which is a natural state for the body. After all of the sugars and unhealthy fats have been removed from the body during the first couple of weeks, the body is now free run on healthy fats. Ketosis has many potential benefits-related to rapid weight loss, health or performance. In certain situations like type 1 diabetes excessive ketosis can become extremely dangerous, where as in certain cases paired with intermittent fasting can be extremely beneficial for people suffering from type 2 diabetes. Substantial work is being conducted on this topic by Dr. Jason Fung M.D. (Nephrologist) of the Intensive Dietary Management Program. What I Can and Can't Eat - For someone new to Keto it can be very challenging to stick to a low-carb diet, even though fat is the cornerstone of this diet you should not be eating any and all kinds of fat. Healthy fats are essential, but what is healthy fat you might ask. Healthy fats would consist of grass-fed meats, (lamb, beef, goat, venison), wild caught fish and seafood, pastured pork & poultry's. Eggs and salt free butters can also be ingested. Be sure to stay away from starchy vegetables, fruit, and grains. Processed foods are in no way accepted in any shape or form on the Ketogenic diet, artificial sweeteners and milk can also pose a serious issue. So far I am 5 weeks in and down 34 lbs. and feeling great, I have an enormous amount of energy and do not crash midday during work like I used to. It will take some serious commitment and a great meal plan to get to where you want to be health wise. But the road to get there is always more fulfilling then where you end up.

[lindoig8]

Monday - Wednesday, 4-6 October

Monday

First up, I rang Tyrepower in Geraldton (for the fourth time) asking when our tyre would be there – and got the same answer (lie?) – I will check and ring you straight back. (I rang again on Tuesday and got an answer. I was told that they have had them in stock all along – but they had got one in for me anyway – a 235/70/16 when I had ordered a 285/70/17!)

Once we got going, we drove about halfway to Denham to look at the caravan park at Nanga Bay, on the beach not far from Shell Beach but on the opposite side of the peninsula. It looked OK and they had a site we could use so we booked for two nights because we were still waiting to find out when our tyre would be available in Geraldton. Then we drove back to the Steep Point access road.

We were relying on a map that showed that our planned excursion today was only about 120 kilometres or so. Of course, it would be longer because we always explore lots of things that aren’t on the map. We had decided not to try to go to Steep Point this trip (the westernmost point of Australia). We went there over some challenging roads last trip so decided to look at most of the rest of the other side of the peninsula. We originally hoped to explore Useless Loop, but that is now completely out of bounds having been given over to the miners – they seem to have claimed and quarantined mammoth swathes of Western Australia – there are more than a thousand active working mines in Western Australia at present. The problem with the map is that the peninsula is drawn to scale with distances shown (not all very accurately!) but the access road appears to be a short 4 or 5 kilometres. It turns out that part of the road is not to scale and is actually 98 kilometres! This added about 190 kilometres to our expected excursion but we didn’t realise this until we had been driving for almost 2 hours.

We eventually reached the entrance to the Edel Land National Park and paid our fee (actually overpaid it because they only take cash and we didn’t have the right change) and headed for False Entrance after installing our 2.5 metre sand-flag again. We drove out onto the beach for a look, but again, it was very boggy so we retreated to safer ground. We drove a bit of a loop to the Blowholes – but I am not sure that was much safer. We had to drive through more deep churned-up sand and ‘walk’ the car over some dreadful rocks but reached a point where there was an open space at the edge of the cliff – my guess, a 60 or 70 metre drive straight down into the Indian Ocean if you weren’t being alert. We parked away from the edge and walked out to see the waves crashing on the rocks below. Often, when they did, we could hear a huge roar as the pressure pushed a giant column of air and a little fine spray up the two nearby blowholes. There is nothing to mark them in any way and one is big enough to swallow any car that just happened to drive across it. A car might get wedged in the smaller one but both were very scary. We couldn’t see the bottom of either of them, but the noise was enough to scare us when a wave crashed in. We ate our lunch there and then tried to follow the loop around to the False Entrance road but were stymied by a high steep boggy sand dune. Driving the loop in the opposite direction and down the dune would have been easy, but going up it was just a step to far for us.

We retraced our steps back to the park access road but kept going another 20 kilometres or so until we reached another area of soft dunes. We drove a few kilometres along the track, but there was no way we could pass if someone came the other way so we decided to turn around when we found the opportunity and head for home.

Once out of the National Park, we stopped numerous times to take photos of plants and flowers.

Back at the van, we decided on early showers and used the park facilities for this rather than using our own better-quality water.

I don’t usually talk a lot about our meals, but dinner was exceptional. We had basa – probably my favourite fish, despite it being quite cheap. Heather cooked it in a sauce of butter, cream, lemon and capers and it was superb – a chunkier cut than we usually get with basa with a little crunch at the edges. We also had potatoes with lashings of butter, salt and black pepper, as well as green beans with mint jelly. We really eat well at all times, but we both agreed that this really was a highlight, at least for the past month or so.

The last two days have been seriously hard work. We drove a surprising 320 kms on Sunday and 370 today, most of it on sand or gravel and some of the most churned up, corrugated roads we have been on. Obviously, a lot of holidaymakers have no idea how to drive off-road and many of them are simply road vandals, deliberately swerving on the loose stuff throwing sand and rock in all directions and exposing the underlying rock as jagged peaks rather than gently smooth sand-covered track.

We have seen some appalling examples. One guy roared past us through heavy sand yesterday with a huge trailer behind him that was airborne for at least half the time during the fewer hundred metres we watched and every time it thumped back onto the track, it threw up 50 kilos of sand and left huge divots in its place. And the vandals that trashed the pristine bank of billions of tiny shells should simply be shot. Millions of years of shell growth destroyed by some clown that wanted to show his mates what a mess he could create with a few wheelies. Simply criminal.

Tuesday

We moved on to Nanga Bay, quite a large, popular, yet fairly basic park about midway between Hamelin Pool and Denham. Our site sloped quite a bit so the front of the van was jacked up with 4 blocks under the jack and it was still almost raised to its limit – but, of course, inside the van, you would never know.

It only took us an hour to get here and once set up, I went for a walk down to the beach – somewhat separated from our part of the caravan park although there are a lot of vans down there too and 20 or 30 cars on the beach itself. There are heaps of people staying here (and they all seem to have 2 or 3 dogs that bark incessantly) but the beach was quite crowded, maybe not hundreds, but certainly many scores of people, very noisy with boats roaring around and kids screaming, dozens of dogs barking and not at all welcoming for oldies like us that enjoy our isolation.

There was nothing to attract me near the beach so I retreated to some of the paths into the dunes (looking for birds with very limited success) and eventually found my way back the van via a very circuitous loop.

I spent most of the day looking at and editing my recent photos but it is impossible to post anything here. There is a strong phone signal here but no data access at all. It takes an hour or so to download a simple email and trying to access anything else just times out. I also spent a couple of hours reading an 80-page book about U3A Port Phillip. They are writing something like a history, not quite that, but with a lot of stuff about the early days – so Heather and I obviously feature quite heavily in parts of it. We were both interviewed for this a few months ago, and we were given a draft to comment on a couple of weeks ago. We both made some comments on the draft and they have now given me an updated version for any last-minute comments before they finalise the draft.

At night we watched the last two episodes of the series we have been following for the last month. It was called Striking Out – two short seasons of about ten episodes each – but we reckon it struck out badly. There are no plans for a third season, but nothing was resolved in series 2. There were about 5 strands to the series: the main plot-line and at least 4 unresolved relationships, most of which heavily impacted the plot – and at the end of the series, everything was left hanging. It was only a mediocre series but the end was simply frustrating – a serious imposition on the patient observers.

Wednesday

I don’t really like this park much. It was very noisy until quite late. They had a ‘concert’ – entertainment for the plebs – that was very loud: we had to turn up the volume on our DVD several times. And the dogs…… Yap, yap, yap. Ruff, ruff, ruff. Woof, woof, woof. Almost constant until about 11 pm. I admit I hate dogs but this was pretty extreme. And why every caravan park manager thinks we need entertainment several nights a week (or every night) when most of us are on the road to avoid incessant noise is quite beyond me. This could be quite a nice park – maybe a bit too big because it attracts hordes of boats that park anywhere and run their motors for hours at a time – but it is not one in my top ten. I think the campers need to think a bit more about how their actions impact their neighbours too. The guys in the cabin next to us have virtually parked us in a couple of times – they all have cars and they can’t all fit on the site so they just park where they want and let people try to work around them.

I have just been re-reading my last few days’ scratchings and it seems that I must have got out of the wrong side of the bed with more than enough gripes each day. It really hasn’t been like that. There have been a few minor challenges, but on the whole, I have enjoyed it all.

We spent most of the day in and around the caravan with only a longish walk to the beach and around the park environs. It was pretty hot so we enjoyed the air conditioner a good deal more than walking around in the burning sun.

[tinyqueensatoko]

Imagine you are an athlete who has been one of the best in the world in past few years. Then imagine you have been fighting for multiple injuries that prevent you from basic training for 10 months. Then imagine people are counting down the days for the Olympics which you have been dreaming for years. That your coach telling you “no need to hurry, there will be an Olympics in 5 years and we can prepare for that” could be the worst nightmare you ever had.

That was what Satoko Miyahara was facing back in October 2017, 4 months until the Pyeongchang Olympics.

by Wei Xiong

Her struggles date back to January the same year, just one month after she won the silver medal at the Grand Prix Final, and claimed her 3rd consecutive title at Japanese Nationals in a dominant fashion. Just when everyone thought she was going to have another great season, Miyahara was diagnosed with a stress fracture in her left pelvic girdle, which forced her to withdraw from competitions in February and rest for 4 weeks.

However, the suffocating pain didn’t go away even when March came. The Japanese champion withdrew from the Worlds, and decided to go for rehabilitation in Japan Institute of Sports Sciences for a month. Yet, when she resumed ice training in May, she was haunted by a series of unfortunate events: sprained left ankle, bone bruise and inflammation on right pelvic girdle, and physical illness, which pulled her away from training from time to time. Even when she trained on the ice, she could practice no more than 10 jumps per day in order to protect the fragile body.

“Of course I felt a bit anxious”, Miyahara told the press at the Grand Prix Final in December, “but then I recalled my days during rehabilitation. In the same institute, there were many athletes from other sports. All of them were suffering from more severe injuries than me, some even couldn’t walk by themselves. But they were so optimistic and focused on physical recovery that made me think: «I have no reason to feel sorry for myself. I cannot give up». I was inspired by the experience to think positively”.

During the days not being able to practice jumps, Miyahara decided it was the right time to polish her skating and performance, as she recalled: “I did a lot of run-throughs with music without any jump, paid extra attention to my overall skating, and tried to improve my steps and spins”.

“I also visited my ballet coach to seek for her help on improving my presentation”, she continued. “She then taught me how to use my limbs to the details, and gave me some advice on how to deliver the nuanced emotions of my programs through body movements”.

The talk

While the 19-year-old and people around her were being as positive and patient as possible, days went by, but her recovery progress was so slow that she had to withdraw from competition again. This time, it was Lombardia Trophy, in early October. People started to question whether the reigning Grand Prix Final medalist would be able to come back for the GP series, or would be fit enough to fight for her Olympics spot at Nationals.

That was when her coach Mie Hamada decided to have a talk with her.

“It was really a difficult time for us. We wanted to prepare ourselves for the Nationals, but we were still practicing jumps with constraints”, Hamada shared, with tears in her eyes. “Actually, in October, I once asked Satoko: «Do you want to quit skating next year?», and she said no. Then I talked to her: «In that case, you have 5 years. You know, there will be an Olympics in 5 years, so you don’t need to hurry, just take your time and we will train for that»”.

As devastating and dreadful as it may sound, Hamada’s words became her student’s motivation. After the difficult talk, Miyahara made “miraculous” progress in her recovery. She soon resumed practice on jumps in mid-October, and landed them in better quality day by day. By the time of November, she was able to pull off a decent performance in run-through practice with all elements. “Though I couldn’t do clean run-throughs every time like last year, things were definitely getting better and I could jump with confidence”, she recalled.

“Did you want to prove your coach wrong, that you didn’t need 5 years?”, one journalist asked.

“No, I wasn’t trying to prove her wrong at all”, Miyahara answered firmly. “We were not giving up Pyeongchang. But what she meant was: «You are still young, and there is a lot of room to improve. You can be an even better skater in 5 years, and you can show what a matured skater you will become in the next Olympics. You will have another chance». She was trying to comfort me, and her words motivated me to do the best I could”.

Going back to where she belonged Seeing the progress, Miyahara and her coaching team decided to proceed with the GP assignments as scheduled.

The NHK Trophy from November 10-12 didn’t go well, as she finished 5th overall after underrotating and doubling quite a few jumps. The following Skate America turned out to be a surprise. Despite some small mistakes, Miyahara managed to place 1st in both segments and took the gold medal. The performances were not her best for sure, but she was satisfied with the progress.

“At the end of the day, I wanted to bring out 100% of what I am capable of at the Nationals. Towards that goal I wanted to gradually improve my condition and performance through competitions. So, before the NHK Trophy, I told myself that 70% would be good enough. And for Skate America, I would be happy if I could bring out 80%”.

To her surprise, after Evgenia Medvedeva withdrew from the Grand Prix Final, Miyahara continued her GP journey as the 1st substitute. “This time, I want to achieve 92%. I am not thinking of winning or something, but I just want to skate two clean programs”, she shared with the press before the Final kicked off.

The short program went as well as she expected. Skating to “Sayuri”, soundtrack from the movie “Memoirs of a Geisha”, the reigning silver medalist pulled off a clean program, received positive GOEs on all her elements, and was rewarded 74.61, almost tied her personal best.

But the free skate was a bit of a challenge, as she underrotated and landed weakly on her triple Lutz-triple Toe combo, and the following triple Flip. Nevertheless, as the music of “Madame Butterfly” continued to build, Miyahara skated stronger, and nailed the second half of program solidly. Audience in Nagoya gave her standing ovation, some of them even shouted: “Welcome back!”

“It is a very famous piece of music, so I think everyone knows the story”, Miyahara commented. “I think I was able to skate the program with my own style, and to interpret the various emotions in it”.

The endless slope

Though the score and 5th place finish could not compare to what she did last year, Miyahara said she gained confidence through the competition. “The short program was better than in Skate America, and I think I finally got back the feeling of skating a good program. The free skate was not my best, but not bad either. I think I’ve achieved 90% of what I am capable of, and I have more confidence now. I want to carry the momentum on to the Nationals”.

At the same time, she also acknowledged that even her best may not be good enough: “Everybody is becoming very good these days, and the field is so competitive now. I need to further improve my level to catch up with others”.

And improve she did. At the Japanese Nationals three weeks later, the defending champion delivered two close-to-perfect performances, and her combined score of 220.39 refreshed the highest record of Japanese Nationals history. Without any doubt, the 19-year-old who seemed doomed to miss her flight to Pyeongchang finally realized her dream.

And finally, she and coach Hamada could not hold back the tears anymore at the Kiss & Cry.

Backstage, Hamada shared an emotional moment with the press. “I kept telling you all that she was fine, but in fact I was very concerned, and it was more difficult than you could imagine. She was a fighter, she fought till the end”.

“This year is like an endless slope that you need to keep climbing and climbing”, Hamada continued, “but this girl, she just kept doing what she could do without any complaint. Although I am the coach, I have learned so much from her, and she is the one who’s leading the way. I can still remember the first day I met her, I could never imagine that she would be at the Olympics someday. Now I am glad that all her efforts were paid off”.

But winning the Olympics spot was certainly not the final goal for the four-time national champion. “When I was standing on the podium, I told myself, You finally made it here. Now, this is your starting point”, Miyahara shared at the press conference.

And we cannot wait to see what awaits the tiny yet powerful 19-year-old in her new journey.

#Satoko Miyahara #season: 2017 2018 #news #article