#I am so so tired of being a constant mediator for my family and for everyone in my life and never being able to dicuss my own worries | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arcwhore · 4 years

Text

Trust

{rafe cameron} x {reader}

Request: Rafe cheating at a party.

description: rafe has a soft spot for his little sisters best friend, and is there when she leaves. who’s gonna be there when he leaves?

warnings: angst, yelling, hitting

word count: 3163

Your heels clicked as you walked up the steps of the Cresswell family manor, tightly holding your clutch in your left hand. Your right hand was clasped around your boyfriend's arm, and you could feel his biceps flex in anticipation.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Every year at the end of the summer, all the Kooks went out with a bang. You were to wear the most formal attire you could find, and come with the intentions of getting fucked up.

You had always gone with your best friend, Sarah, but just about a month ago, she started dating a Pogue; who was undeniably handsome, so you were happy for her.

“As long as you’re happy, Sarah. I will always stand by you,” you had told her.

She slipped away after that, barely making any time for you, ditching you at Midsummers. She was always with John B, and it hurt, but you knew that she deserved a good relationship, and so did she. You had took that as your que to venture out to new places; find new people. By new people, I mean Sarah’s brother.

The first night she ditched you, you showed up at her house, clothes soaking wet. Despite the time, you rang the doorbell. When no one answered, you held your finger to the button, hoping there would be some kind of rapid alarm. It was all high tech, so you were just hoping, but really, you were probably just standing there like an idiot.

After knocking, banging, and ringing the doorbell multiple times, muscly legs descended down the stairs. A tired--and very grumpy--Rafe appeared, walking towards the door all while rubbing his eyes. He saw you through the glass and debated on turning off the light and going back upstairs, but he didn’t want to have to deal with your constant pounding on the door. When he opened the door, you immediately stepped inside.

“Woah, hey, what the fuck are you doing here?” Rafe complained. He was surprised by your entrance, your clothes clinging to your body and showing off your perfect curves. The light pink shirt you wore was now see through, prompting his eyes to attach themselves to your visible cleavage.

“Where is Sarah?” You asked him. You figured he probably wouldn’t tell you. That, or he actually didn’t know.

“How the fuck should I know? Little miss princess is probably hanging out with her pathetic pogue of a boyfriend.” He grumbled, taking a seat on the stairs and staring at you.

“She ditched me! Left me at home, all by mys fucking self, while she goes out fucking her boyfriend! They’re probably having sex on his shitty bed right now, and shes not even thinking about me!”

“Well, to be fair, if she was thinking about you in the middle of sex that would be a little awkward…” Rafe interrupted. You glared at him, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. “Did you really run all the way over here just to rant to me about my sister?”

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw,” you quoted. “Rafe, do I look like I have fucking teleportation skills? Of course I ran here! My car’s in the shop and Sarah was supposed to come over, but she didn’t and now 2 hours later, here I am, losing my shit because I’m not going to get a project done!” You vented. Rafe gave you a bitchy look, one eyebrow raised and his mouth in a straight line.

“Come on, Rafe. Help me out here,” you begged.

“Go home, Y/N,” he got up from his seat on the stairs, stammering towards you. He tried to usher you out the door, but you pushed his hands off. “Y/N…”

“Goddammit, Rafe!” you groaned, stomping out the door. You went out, sitting on the porch. You waited for the rain to die down, waited for some sign that it was going to slow; but it didn’t.

Rafe watched you from inside, waiting on you to stomp your ass right back through the door, but you didn’t. You sat and stared into the night, watching the water droplets splash as they hit the stone pavement. His chest started to shrink as he watched you, his mind wandering.

In an abrupt motion, he unlocked the door, pulling you inside. He motioned for you to follow him upstairs, and you crossed your arms reluctantly. You were starting to shiver from the AC, your cold clothes suddenly feeling like an ice bath.

“Come on, I’ll get you some warm clothes.” you padded up the stairs after him, wondering why he was being so nice to you. You wanted to say something, to ask what the sudden change of heart was, but you knew it would ruin the moment. Your feet left prints on the floor, leading all the way to his bedroom. You watched him as he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt-- well, Rafe sized-- and handed it over to you.

“Bathrooms’ through there,” he nodded. You muttered a thanks before going to get changed. You stripped out of your sopping wet clothes, dropping them onto the floor like a wet mop. Rafe’s clothes were a bit big, but they were so comfortable. You walked back in holding your wet clothes in hand, holding them out to him.

“I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with them,” you said softly. He grabbed them from your hands, walking out of the room. He left you alone again, but this time you didn’t feel lonely. You sprawled out on his bed, taking in a deep breath of the leftover cologne on his sheets. You would have never admitted it, but he smelled amazing; like clean linens and lemon shampoo. The sound of footsteps approached you, but you were already falling into the darkness of sleep. Rafe rustled through his closet, trying to find something to put on the floor as a palette. He laid down, taking a pillow off the bed and shoving it under his head. He had a scowl on his face, upset that you took his bed, but when his eyes drifted to your peaceful figure, the frustration faded. A faint smile took its place, and he closed his eyes, drifting off.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

You walked in together, greeted by your friends who, not to your surprise, were already hammered. They giggled at your reaction, as you were trying to mediate their state until you got a little into your system. You let go of Rafe’s arm and headed to the kitchen. He watched you walk away, turning towards one of your mutual friends and starting a conversation.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

The second time was Midsummers. You came to her house early, getting ready with her. She had told you that you two would dance and drink that night. She said she was sorry and wanted to make up for what she did. You were starting to doubt her more and more with every sentence she told you, but you agreed nonetheless.

You had a light blue dress with leg slits while she had the same, but in red. You did each others makeup while she blasted music in her bedroom.

“I’m sorry that I ditched you that night, Y/N. It was stupid... I don’t know what I was thinking skipping out on an opportunity to hang out with you,” Sarah apologized. She powdered your face, looking into your eyes sincerely. All you did was nod and smile, hoping that would suffice.

“I missed you, Sarah,” you muttered.

“I know, I miss you too. So damn much,” she put her brush down and gave you a tight hug. You sank into her embrace, allowing yourself a few minutes of peace before chaos. You sighed into her shoulder.

“Let’s get this party started!” you suddenly screamed, changing the vibe in the room.

“You bet!” Sarah replied. She walked over to her mirror, and you stood up to look at yourself. “You look beautiful.”

“You look gorgeous,” you smiled with reassurance, stepping into your shoes and heading downstairs. Rafe met you at the bottom wearing a light blue tux. Your eyes locked, and a spark of electricity ran down from your head to your toes. You felt all warm and tingly inside just from looking at him.

“Well look at us! Did you plan this Cameron?” You teased, stepping down to the 2nd bottom step to get to his height. A smile peaked through his lips, and he tried his best to conceal it.

“Yeah, I definitely snuck into your closet just to see what color dress you were wearing just so I could match with your lazy ass,” he snickered.

“Oh come on, you don’t gotta be mean, Rafe. We’ve known each other for 8 years, I think it’s time to start warming up.”

“I think we’re pretty warm, considering you slept in my bed the night my sister ditched you,” he struck. You rolled your eyes at his comment, simply just brushing past him. “We were talking, Y/N!”

“We were. Now were not,” you replied briskly, swinging the door to the Cameron household open and strutting out. He stared as you walked out, entangled in your sassy personality. He loved the way you fought with him; so playful, so harmless; but somehow, it always seem to hurt him the most when you walked away.

You had been searching for Sarah for half an hour, and you were already frustrated. The party had started and people were drinking all around you, and it made it a lot harder to see through whiskey glasses. You grabbed an unattended drink from the bar, downing it in seconds as you walked inside.

The music muffled inside the corridor, your heels clacking on the granite floors. You began to walk up the stairs, but you heard a deep voice rumble behind you.

“Can’t find your precious friend?” Rafe asked. You spun around, your face turning red from embarrassment. You shook your head shyly.

“It’s fine, I knew she would leave me anyway,” you shrugged your shoulders. He scoffed, looking at you with his pupils blown. “Don’t look at me like that, dumbass.”

You averted your gaze, but it felt as if your eyes had magnets in them, and Rafe’s were the only other ones that could lock them in place. You felt your body start to heat up as he stared at you, and your sure that your eyes were starting to get wider. You felt his hand trace up your arm, the other grabbing your waist. You let out a small gasp, trying not to show him that you were too vulnerable. His hand reached your neck, reaching around the back of it and slowly pulling you in. He stopped right when your lips were centimeters apart, waiting for you to close the gap.

You connected your lips with his, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. His arm snuck around your waist and pulled your hips until they bumped into his. His lips glided on top of yours so gently, not at all like what you were expecting from him. Both of your minds were wandering, but someone clearing their throat ruined the mood. You pulled away from each other, checking in the direction of the noise. Ward stood there with a smirk on his face.

“If you’re gonna kiss, go do it in private,” he winked, passing by and heading to the bathroom. He turned to look at you, giving you the ‘I’m watching you’ motion, and you giggled. You turned back to Rafe.

“What do you say we take this somewhere more private, good sir?” You joked.

“Of course M’Lady,” he smiled.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

The smell of alcohol and weed was smothering, but you were trying to do anything to take the edge off. You had been looking forward to this party all day, and the fight with your parents early this morning didn’t help but fuel you more. You grabbed the closest bottle and took it straight, bringing it to your lips and feeling your body warm up. You kicked around the balloons that floated on the ground as you drank, swallowing swig after swig. You set down the bottle and took off your shoes, putting them on the pile in the corner before you saw Rafe headed towards you. You reached out your hands for him and screamed, “Let’s dance!”

You dragged him out on the floor, backing up against him and grinding. He had his hands on your hips, swaying you, but he wasn’t holding you like he usually did. You spun around, trying to meet his gaze. When you turned, his eyes were preoccupied, but they snapped back to you before you could see what he was looking at.

“What’s wrong?” Your head titled to the side in confusion, eyebrows furrowing. He shook his head.

“Nothing, sorry.”

“You sure? Cause I can get out way for you,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. You threw up your hands, exasperated, and walked to the kitchen again. He didn’t even try to follow you. You grabbed a pre-roll off the counter, pulling out the lighter in your bra. You inhaled, letting the smoke fill your lungs. Exhaling through your nose, your eyes closed and you allowed the beat of the music to flow through you. You started to sway your hips again, bringing your arms up in response. You moved towards the party again, joint still in hand. You moved through the overcrowded living room of sweaty teenagers, searching for your tree of a boyfriend. You took another drag, blowing the smoke in some strangers’ face. You couldn’t help but laugh when she made a disgusting face at you.

The anger in your bones started to shake you when you couldn’t find Rafe. “I know damn well...”

Your thought process kicked in when you stepped out of the crowd. You stomped up the stairs, opening every door that was unlocked. You walked in on a few couples but left too quick to say sorry. You opened one door, and it was pitch black. You heard the bed stop squeaking when you entered. You flipped on the light, trying your best to make out the figures on the bed. It was a good idea, fucking a girl behind your back, but doing it in the dark so you would never suspect a thing, right? Wrong.

“Rafe?” You shrieked, eyes settling on the half naked figure staring at you with wide eyes. You could hear the girl under him whisper to him. You smirked and advanced towards them.

“Who is it, Rafe?” The girl asked. He stuttered, trying to find his words. He fully stood, trying to stop you from getting any closer.

“Yeah, who is it, Rafe? Who-” you pushed him back, “fucking is it?”

“Y/N, chill out,” he mediated. You laughed, looking over at the bed.

“This bitch? Come on, if you’re gonna cheat on me, cheat on me with someone who’s prettier than me. It’s the least you can do!”

“I-I didn’t realize he had-” you interrupted the ginger.

“You, shut the fuck up and get out,” you yelled. She scrambled for her clothes, running out into the hallway with only her underwear on. You glared at him, waiting for a response. “Come on, say it big boy.”

“Y/N...” you raised your eyebrows, tilting your head in inquisitively. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, that’s all you got to say, huh?” He stayed silent. “You’re un-fucking-believable. I mean, who thought; Rafe Cameron actually being struck speechless? Bullshit!”

“Y/N, it was a mistake, I don’t know what came over me,” he apologized. His eyes were pleading, trying desperately for you to listen to him. You gestured for him to continue. “I love you, but I don’t...”

“You don’t what Rafe?” you asked.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship, Y/N!” You looked at him for a minute, trying to see if he was serious or not. His face never faltered, and you broke out into a smile. You were laughing so hard, trying not to break out crying in the process. He kept his gaze on you, his face full of confusion from your reaction.

“You’re full of shit, Cameron! Just like the rest of your family!”

“Y/N, do we have to do this here?” Rafe pointed of the gatherings of people outside the door.

“Do we have to- you dumb fuck!” you punched his bare chest. “Did you have to,” hit, “fuck,” hit, “that girl,” slap to the face, “here?”

“You’re a piece of shit, Rafe Cameron,” you turned and started walking out the door, the tears finally spilling from your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whimpered.

“Fuck you.”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Cuddled up in your bed reading a book, you were interrupted by a knock on your door. “Y/N, baby, you have a visitor.”

“Who is it?” you heard feet scurrying at the door.

“It’s Sarah,” the sweet voice spoke.

“Go away, Sarah,” you grumbled, stuffing your face in a pillow. You heard the door open and close and you rolled over on your back.

“What do you want?” You asked harshly. She sat on the edge of the bed slowly, trying not to overstep her boundaries.

“Look, I just wanted to say that Rafe’s been a total wreck without you the past few days-”

“Let me stop you right there; if you came over here to try to convince me to get back together with that douchebag, then you can go ahead and leave.” You sighed, throwing your head back. “I don’t wanna hear anything else about him.”

“No, God, no. I think he needed to feel some pain, kick his ass into line. I just wanted you to know how miserable you made him.”

“He made himself miserable,” you sat up, looking at her eyes for the first time in weeks. You missed the delicate features that you used to see every day.

“I know, sorry. I’m just sorry that he did that to you, and I just feel like it’s my fault.”

“Honestly, it mostly is. You ditched me and he gave me comfort. It was just my stupid decision that led me to fall for him.”

“Well, didn’t expect the guilt trip today, but I guess I deserve that,” she chuckled. “Can we please start over? I’m so sorry for all the shit I did to you, and I’m sorry about how it all ended up. I miss my best friend.”

She gave you the pouty face which she knew you could resist. You thought about it for a few seconds before agreeing.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to get along with your brother.” She squealed and clapped her hands together, giving you a caste kiss on the cheek.

You looked at her and smiled.

“I fucking missed you.”

my masterlist

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #imagines #outer banks #outer banks imagines #sarah cameron #outer banks imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines

199 notes · View notes

admin-in-residence · 4 years

Text

Merci

Request: Hello! Any chance we can get a one shot/fic where the reader speaks a foreign language besides English, and the Bad Batch decides to teach her how to speak English? They give the reader daily lessons on speaking the English language and help her practice her English speaking skills

This is a cute idea, I just hope I did it justice...and hopefully google translate translated everything correctly? I studied french briefly, but I remember practically nothing...translations are located at the bottom of the fic.

Length: 1757 Words

When Commander Cody had called them in for a protection detail, Hunter had assumed it would be like any other detail the Batch had ever done. Go in, establish a contact with their charge, follow them around until the threat could be eliminated or deescalated, and then be on their way to some peaceful planet until the next job came through.

You weren’t like any other charge however...and by the sounds of it you’d be stuck with them for a long time.

“They have valuable information about the separatists.” Cody explained, “They came from a separatist's controlled planet and left everything behind in order to help the Republic. But now the planet authorities, the separatist council and the sith are after her.”

“Why can’t you just get the information and put them into safe housing?” Tech inquired.

“Well...we can’t really understand them.” Cody said, looking over to you.

You looked confusedly between the men in front of you, their language strange and foreign in your ears...what were they talking about?

“Peut-être qu'un droïde peut traduire?” You said, interrupting the men’s conversation.

Cody smiled sheepishly.

“You see...we have very little information about their planet or their language...the Republic destroyed most of it’s history after it aligned with the Separatists.” Cody explained, “We had a translation droid on it’s way, but they only have limited phrases in their databanks.”

“So why did you call us in?” Crosshair glared.

“Tech may be able to decipher the language and report back to us. He was the only person I could think of that may be able to help.” Cody said, “Plus, you guys can be her security detail. Just take her with you, decipher her information and then we can find safe housing for her until the end of the war.”

“The Commander is right...there’s not a lot of information about the language, but I think i’ll be able to figure it out eventually.” Tech said.

“Well then. I guess we’re on the job.” Hunter stated.

The strange goggled man had managed to explain to you that they were your protector’s and had you accomony you back to the ship...that was only a few days ago and you were starting to get sick of everything.

“Les séparatistes construisent une nouvelle usine de droïdes, avec de nouveaux droïdes que vous n'avez jamais vus. Ils sont grands et dangereux ... ils peuvent détruire des villages entiers.” You urged.

“What is she saying Tech?” Hunter asked.

The strange man with the bandanna seemed to be the mediator, knowing exactly when you were about to lunge across the table to strangle the goggled man when he misunderstood your words.

“Droids...something about droids. I’m assuming a factory...but...” The goggled man said.

“Apprend moi! Apprend moi-e-english.” You willed your tongue to conform to the strange lanquage.

“English?” Crosshair asked. “She just spoke our language.”

“You want us to teach you english?” Wrecker asked.

You excitedly pointed to the big guy.

“Oui!” You exclaimed excitedly. “Teach-English.”

“That may be able to work better...” Tech said. “If we can teach her our language, she would be able to tell us exactly what she needs to...and even if that prove’s difficult, learning some of our words in her language may help me decipher things faster.”

“Great now we’re teachers? Count me out.” Crosshair groaned, walking away from the table.

“What do you think sir?” Tech looked to Hunter.

“Let’s teach her.” Hunter said.

The week’s flew by as you began your teachings.

The first lesson Tech had completed with you was important item’s, like food, water, and feelings, you were able to tell them now if you wanted a ration pack, or needed some water.

“Je suis fatigue.” You smiled to the goggled man, who’s name was not in fact goggled man but actually Tech.

“English please.” Tech smiled back.

You still had a habit of slipping into your language, especially when you began to get tired, or get super excited.

“Désolée, I am tired?” You apologized before raising your arms up by your head in a sleeping motion.

“Yes, it’s been a long day. We should get some rest.” Tech replied.

The Batch had landed on a simple planet on the outer rim. White sandy beaches and warm weather greeted you when you went for a walk in the mornings.The water was crystal clear, and you could see little fish swimming by the shore.

The next morning you went out for your walk, and in the distance you saw one of the Batch sitting in the sand cleaning his gun.

The silver haired clone looked up at you as you approached.

“Bonjour.” You waved.

Crosshair sighed.

“It means good morning.” You explained. “But perhap’s your morning is bad.”

You had become friends with most of the Batch, Hunter was patient with you, Tech was always eager to learn and teach, and Wrecker was just a big gentle giant. Every day you grew closer and closer with the batch.

Hug’s were a constant with you, constantly thanking them with a quick hug. And they had even begun to reciprocate those hug’s when you learned something new or memorized a statement.

But Crosshair had distanced himself from you very early on.He wasn’t willing to listen to you try to speak english, nor listen to any of your language. It seemed like he was always upset with you for one reason or another.

And as you grew closer and closer with the others, he grew farther and farther.

“No...it’s not bad.” The man said. “Go ahead and sit.”

You smiled brightly at him as he pat the ground next to him and you eagerly sat down before shuffling closer to him.

“Your awfully close.” Crosshair grunted, pulling back a bit.

You tilted your head.

“Close.” He explained, poking your shoulder and then touching his.

“I need space.” He said widening his hands futher.

Ah...he was feeling crowded by you. You moved back some.

“Thanks.”

“Merci.” You replied. “That’s what you just said to me...it means Thank you.”

“Well then...merci.” He said.

“You do not- your uncomfortable with me.” You said, trying to explain in his language.

Crosshair glanced up from his gun.

“No.”

“You do not like me?” You asked.

“No thats not it either...” Crosshair grunted.

“Hmph.” You sighed. “I do not understand.”

Crosshair chuckled as he looked at you. Your arm’s we’re crossed tightly and your eyes narrowed as you looked out to the sea.

“It’s always been me and my brothers.” He said. “And then you came in.”

Your looked to him.

“I thought that even though you spoke a different language that Tech would be able to decipher it, get the information and you’d be gone like everyone else.” He explained, “Uh...you understand me right.”

“I have learned lot’s.” You explained, “Keep going...if I grow confused I will ask.”

“Right.” Crosshair answered. “Well...it’s been weeks and we havn’t even begun to report your info. But my Batch. My brothers, they’ve grown close to you. They’ve accepted you into our family.”

You nodded.

“But one day, your going to finally give out the information we need and then your going to be gone...and my brother’s will hurt. I will hurt.” Crosshair admitted.

Yes, Crosshair thought, despite pushing you and further away you had still found a place in his heart. You cared for his brothers...and for him. You had created food from your planet for them, helped fix things on the ship...you were a part of them.

“Well...she doesn’t have to go away.”

Crosshair turned, finding Hunter standing behind the two of you.

“What place is safer then with us. We know her language almost as much as she knows our’s. Cody will stick up for us...the best place for you is with us.” Hunter smiled at you.

“So no more push?” You asked, lightly pushing his shoulder.

“La famille reste solidaire. Tu es ma famille maintenant.” You said, “Family stick’s together. You are my family now.”

Crosshair smiled, ducking his head down to hide it from you.

The Batch stood behind you as you greeted the Jedi standing before you. Cody and his general, Obi-Wan Kenobi had met on Coruscant to confer with you.

“You have valuable information for us young one.”

“Yes I do.” You replied.

“There is a droid factory being built on a planet in the outer rim. The droid’s being build are not like any you have seen. They are bigger and meaner, they have the capabilities of taking out entire villages.” You explained.

“This is concerning.” Obi-Wan admitted. “But do you have any proof?”

“I can only offer you my word. But perhap’s sharing a fraction of my pain is enough. My own village was a test subject with the new droids, they tore it to shreds, they killed so many, I was lucky to make it out alive with my family. But that is when I knew I could not allow this to happen to anyone else.” You admitted.

“It is thanks to my new family.” You gestured behind you, “That I am able to tell you these things. They have worked hard to protect me and learn my language to translate...but they taught me even more with their language so that I could tell you myself.”

Obi-Wan brought a hand up to his beard, deep in thought.

“I will bring this to the council’s attention.” Obi-Wan stated. “I believe it is in your best interest-”

Everyone stiffened as you waited for his next words.

Was this it?

Would you lose your new family?

“-That you remain in protection with Clone Force 99. They have done well...and I believe they will continue to do so.” Obi-Wan bowed to you and then took his leave.

“Very good work. I will contact you when I have new orders. Get some rest.” Cody smiled following his general.

Turning around you launched yourself into Hunter’s arms, the rest of the Batch joining in on the hug.

“I’m proud of you.” Hunter smiled.

“We all are.” Crosshair butted in.

“Well...I did have the best teachers.” You admitted. “But where are we going to go next?”

The Batch looked at each other before smiling.

“How about you decide this time?” Hunter said.

“Well, I heard about this planet, Naboo! I hear it’s absolutely perfect.” You said, following Wrecker and Crosshair as you began walking back to the Marauder.

“She fit’s right in.” Tech said.

“Think we could get some armor on her, teach her to shoot?” Hunter asked.

“Armor, yes. Shooting no. Crosshair already did that.”

Translations:

Peut-être qu'un droïde peut traduire : Maybe a droid can translate

Les séparatistes construisent une nouvelle usine de droïdes, avec de nouveaux droïdes que vous n'avez jamais vus. Ils sont grands et dangereux ... ils peuvent détruire des villages entiers : The sepratists are building a new droid factory, with new droids you’ve never seen, they are big and dangerous...they can destroy whole villages.

Apprend moi : Teach me

Oui : Yes

Je suis fatigue : I am tired

La famille reste solidaire. Tu es ma famille maintenant : Family sticks together. You are my familiy now.

#star wars x reader #star wars imagines #swtcw #the bad batch #bad batch #tcw imagines #swtcw imagines #bad batch imagines #the bad batch imagines #sergeant hunter #crosshair #tech #wrecker #wrecker x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader

91 notes · View notes

dustedmagazine · 3 years

Text

Ian Mathers’ 2020: We’re stuck inside our own machines

I’ve had a song I loved in high school and haven’t thought much about since stuck in my head. The song “Apparitions” by the Matthew Good Band is a fine example of the alt rock of the late 90s; if you grew up then but somewhere down in the states (or elsewhere) instead of my southern Ontario you may well have your regional equivalents, and like this one they may not resonate terribly strongly outside of their time and place. It popped back into my head after a long time recently and of course 2020 has changed it a little. A song that as a teen I felt keenly as about loneliness (albeit also about how technology can feed into that) of course now plays on my nerves as another small piece of art about the way that most of us (those scared and/or responsible anyway) have only that relatively narrow, technologically mediated connection to the people we love. All of us, artists and listeners alike, are trying to fit our feelings and art and selves down these little connections, with some success.

On a personal level, 2020 wound up being stressful in ways we couldn’t have predicted even after the pandemic hit. In circumstances that could have seen governments on this continent support those unable to work (and those who shouldn’t have to), support those workers who are truly essential, support workers and renters and even landlords and small businesses, instead we got a near-total abeyance of those governments using the resources we provide them with to save any of us. On a personal level my wife and I were lucky enough to be able to work from home (not that it didn’t come with its own forms of stress, and now that I’m off until January I have several work/stress-related illnesses to recover from) but still saw friends and loved ones lose good, used-to-be-sustainable livings overnight, saw family businesses succumb to a near-total absence of effective government support after months of trying to keep above water, etc.

It is probably no surprise that this is not a situation conducive to listening to music, let alone writing about it; I have deliberately and happily kept busy on behind the scenes stuff at Dusted that I could still manage but looking, at the end of the year, at the amount I managed to actually create is demoralizing if not at all shocking. I’m not sure I think next year will be ‘better’ in many important ways, although at our job there is a growing feeling among coworkers that next year has to have some work/life balance because 2020 was, maybe more than anything else, unsustainable.

That’s not to say I didn’t spend a lot of time and emotion on music this year, and if nothing else constant sleep deprivation, stress, and panic meant I was probably open to being deeply moved by all sorts of art even more than normally (it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even read a sad or moving twitter thread out loud to my wife without getting teary, which is kind of… nice?). Funnily enough the band that did the most to keep me sane didn’t really put out anything in 2020. Personal favorite, Low, instead started, in early April, getting on Instagram with something they called on whim “It’s Friday I’m in Low.” With one brief break they have now done by my count at least 35 shows (catalogued here, by the way), every Friday at about 4 my time.

Admittedly it’s easier for Low to pull this off than some bands, since the 2/3 of the trio that sing are a married couple (they’ve had a couple of socially-distanced backyard shows with bassist Steve Garrington, but he’s mostly been isolating elsewhere). These shows have seen the band’s Alan Sparhawk take a mid-set break to do follow-up phone interviews with the acts featured in the COVID-curtailed touring bands series Vansplainingthat they started on YouTube, or just to give a tour round their vegetable garden and talk tips. It’s seen Alan and Mimi Parker draw on their impressive, 25+ year body of work (averaging 4-5 songs a set, I don’t think they’ve repeated themselves yet) and talk a bit between songs about pandemics, politics, song choices, and whether Alan should grab his bike helmet this time.

They’re not the only musicians out there speaking love and sanity (and playing music) into the strange digital interzone filled with hate and disinformation where we’ve all been forced to gather while locked down, but they were and the most consistent and steady signal being emitted each week. No matter how tired I was from work or what new symptoms I’d developed or what horrific thing I read into the news, even if I had to take an emergency nap while it was actually airing, every Friday the show was there. Once things do return to something more like normal, it’s one of the few things I’ll unambiguously miss about this weird-ass year.

So if that makes an argument for Low as my band of the year (admittedly again… it’s not like Double Negative has aged poorly, either), that does a disservice to those 2020 records I did connect with; even if there are still literally dozens I have to go through, many of which I expect to love, my top picks this year (if as unrankable by me as always) hit me as hard as any top pick in recent years did. So here I present a quick and informal top 5, which the rest of my top 20 following in alphabetical order. Here’s hoping for more time and space in 2021 for music, and even more than that, for more support for those who need it from those who could have been providing it all this time. (The Matthew Good Band, incidentally, always did best with their ballads. “Strange Days” is another I’ve had in my head these days; the image of moving “backwards, into a wall of fire” has stuck with me since the 90s and it’s never felt more grimly appropriate.)

Greet Death — New Hell

New Hell by Greet Death

This one is, in some sense, cheating; it came out November 2019. But that just means it’s the latest winner of my personal Torres Prize for Ian Being Late to the Party (so named because becoming slightly obsessed with Torres’ Sprinter just after I sent in my 2015 list was the first time I noticed that one of my favorite records of each year tends to get picked up by me just after I call it quits on the year, no matter how long I try to wait). This very doom and gloom slowcore/metal/(whatever, just know it’s heavy) trio at first felt very much like my beloved Cloakroom (whose Time Well has also won a Torres Prize) but sure enough nuances revealed themselves. Back in February it felt almost a little too negative, but then the rest of 2020 happened. And the extended burns of “You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done” and the title track remain searing.

Holy Fuck — Deleter

youtube

Probably the record I’ve been trying to write about the longest in 2020, and the one I’m most disappointed in myself that I just couldn’t get the requisite paragraphs together. It’s a wonderful effort from the consistently great Toronto resolutely human-created (and —mediated) dance music quartet, one that both feels like a summation of everything they do well, and with the addition of some outside voices (including strong turns from the singers of both Hot Chip and Liars) a step forward at the same time.

Spanish Love Songs — Brave Faces Everyone

Brave Faces Everyone by Spanish Love Songs

As the year got worse, this roar of defiance only got more crucial for me to hear every so often; I was a big enough fan of it, even after writing it up for Dusted, that when they solicited fan footage for a subsequent music video you may just be able to get a glimpse of me in it. (I’m the one in a “No Tories” t-shirt.) My punk rock-loving twin brother was the one who introduced me to Spanish Love Songs and we were supposed to spend an evening in June screaming along to them live in a packed, sweaty room. I need that in my life again.

Julianna Barwick — Healing Is a Miracle

Healing Is A Miracle by Julianna Barwick

It’s a sign of what 2020 has been like here that even just this album title leaves bruises, and while I privately worried Barwick would have a hard time following up 2016’s sublime Will (probably my favorite record that year), it seems that continuing to take whatever downtime she needs to keep focusing and refining her particular muse has once again yielded amazing results. Anyone who thinks they know what a Barwick track sounds like should really check out, say, “Flowers”, but much of this record absolutely sounds like Barwick, just even better than before. She also boasted my wife and I's favorite streaming concert of 2020, an absolutely gorgeous rendition of this album with Mary Lattimore showing up.

Phoebe Bridgers — Punisher

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers

I joked on Twitter recently that I have far too nice a dad (and far too good a relationship with him) to be as obsessed as I am with Phoebe Bridgers’ “Kyoto”, but here we are. Like most of her generation, Bridgers’ social media presence ranges from shit-posting to inscrutable, but even though things are often just as hard to figure out in her beautiful songs (as they often are in life), there’s an emotional clarity to them that can just grab you deep down. Couple that with seriously impressive songcraft and the progress from her already astounding debut Stranger in the Alps and more than anyone else in 2020 I’m excited to see just where the hell Phoebe Bridgers is going to go, because it feels like she’s talented and hardworking enough to go just about anywhere and drag a lot of our hearts with her.

Other Favorites

Aidan Baker & Gareth Davis — Invisible Cities II

Anastasia Minster — Father

Deftones — Ohms

Hum — Inlet

Kelly Lee Owens — Inner Song

Mesarthim — The Degenerate Era

Perfume Genius — Set My Heart On Fire Immediately

Protomartyr — Ultimate Success Today

Rachel Kiel — Dream Logic

The Ridiculous Trio — The Ridiculous Trio Plays the Stooges

Sam Amidon — Sam Amidon

Shabason, Krgovich & Harris — Philadelphia

Stars Like Fleas — DWARS Session: Live on Radio VPRO

Well Yells — We Mirror the Dead

Yves Tumour — Heaven to a Tortured Mind

Five Reissues/Compilations/etc.

Aix Em Klemm — Aix Em Klemm

Bardo Pond — Adrop/Circuit VIII

Charles Curtis — Performances & Recordings 1998-2018

Coil — Musick to Play in the Dark

Hot Chip — LateNightTales

Ian Mathers

11 notes · View notes

pretty-hargreeves · 5 years

Text

Everything.

18-Year-Old!Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: The parts in italics signify a flashback, regular font signifies the present. ALSO, Five is 18 in this y’all. It’s easier to write it as if they’re all older tbh, we DO NOT stan pedophilia in this house.

Word Count: 3,919 (haha sorry)

Five loves you. He loves everything about you. But it’s hard for him to express that, so he decides to conceal it.

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

You have no idea how you came to know the Hargreeves family. It all happened so fast and so coincidentally. You were normal and they, well, they were anything but that. Born exactly a month after the infamous 43, you grew up with the Umbrella Academy. . . literally, you grew up a mere two houses down from them.

When you were little, Klaus always told you he liked playing with someone normal, someone who wasn’t dead or someone who wasn’t full of powers to cheat in the games they’d play. It was easy for you to say that you got along fairly well with the Hargreeves kids, you’ve visited each of them on various occasions.

Luther and Diego always used you as a mediator or designated “side-chooser” for their arguments. . .this usually led to you scolding them or just simply walking out. When Klaus and Ben (well, before Ben died) had freetime, they usually spent it messing with you or doing something to get their minds off of whatever grueling training their father had just put them through. When Allison and Vanya were in dire need of time away from the boys, you happily accompanied them or invited them over for some peace and quiet.

And Five?

Oh.

Five was a different story.

Your relationship with Five was complicating, or more so, he was complicating. His whole being was complex. He always seemed different around you. It hadn't always been that way, but the older you all grew up, he just stopped being the Five you knew, it was almost as if he shut himself off in front of you. But there was another part of him that you got glimpses of but never seemed to understand. Another half of him seemed to appreciate you being around. You were good to his family and you were good to him. You were some sort of constant to him, like you were the only consistent person in his life. He liked that. He needed that.

It was the little things that made you question whatever your relationship was: The shameless glances you’d share from across the room, the smirk he’d give himself every time you’d say something snarky to any of his siblings, the stares that lasted a few seconds longer than they normally should, or the way he’d “accidentally” brush his hand against yours to feel some kind of reassurance. Honestly, there wasn’t a single thing in his life he could enjoy for the long run. With a dysfunctional family, a dysfunctional life, a superhuman ability, and the feeling of disconnection from the real world, he longed for someone real to be on his side for once. . and that someone was you.

But after 18 years of hardening himself around others, he constantly kept denying that fact. He forced himself to be stronger than the feelings he harbored toward you. The feeling of weakness, the vulnerability, the willingness to let his guard down around you. No. That can't happen. On the outside, he wore this coat of armor he’s never taken off. He was in denial: he doesn’t love you. He can’t. Why not? Even he doesn’t know. He just can’t. So without even telling you, Five decided to stop being Five. . .around you at least.

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

“Five?” You whispered. He was sitting alone at the kitchen table with his hands holding his forehead as a cup of black coffee sat hot and untouched in front of him.

He looked up at you with tired and discouraged eyes,

“Hi.” He barely whispered back.

You sat at the seat next to him in a heartbeat. You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t his usual self by the simple look he gave you. He was tired, drained. Sometimes, being a superhuman wasn’t everything it’s all cracked up to be. For Five especially, being able to jump from place to place, time to time, or era to era killed him.

“What’s going on, Five?” you pleaded gently.

He only responded with a heavy sigh. Instead of pushing it, you just sat with him at the kitchen table as the ticking of the clock emphatically ticked away time.

“I wish I had more time, Y/N.” He suddenly murmured under his breath.

You faced him, “More time for what?”

He opened his eyes and stared into the black swirl of coffee that leisurely spun in his mug; and without looking at you, he slid his hand slowly across the wooden table to meet yours, grasping onto your fingers.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his coffee cup radiate off his hands. You gently squeezed his fingers that wrapped around yours. Five glanced at the two of your hands clasped together, smiled softly to himself, and squeezed back.

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

Anyway, you were the girl next door, you were who the Hargreeves called “Our Normal Human Friend.” After all these years, after Ben had died, after they had saved the world from ending, after they had battled it out with the Commission, they were shocked you had stayed their friend. After all, as Klaus put it, either their old friends died or they just didn’t want anything to do with a “really screwed up” family anymore.

Tonight, you were heading to the Academy to return some books Five had lent to you a few months ago. It was raining hard so you rushed through the kitchen entrance with a soaking umbrella pooling a puddle around your feet.

Diego stood at the kitchen counter, reading some newspaper and chewing on a soft cookie that Grace had made. He jerked at the sound of the back door thrashing open and reached for a knife, ready to throw it in your direction.

“Easy there, tiger!” You yelled, throwing the open umbrella in front of you (like that was going to help) “Jesus christ.”

He sighed. “Oh,” and turned back to the paper, “It’s just you.”

You rolled your eyes and retorted, setting your black umbrella against the wall. “Oh how funny, like you don’t love seeing me.”

He rolled his eyes and faced you, leaning up against the counter, “Yeah, no I don’t.”

You chuckled as you wiped your wet shoes across the welcome mat and reached for a cookie, swatting his hands that tried to block you from them. You took a teasing bite in front of him before walking past him, heading toward the living room thinking Five would be in there.

“He’s upstairs.” Diego stated without looking at you.

You stopped at the doorway and turned to him. A playful grin spreading slowly across his face. “What?”

“Five. He’s upstairs.”

“How’d you--”

Diego scoffed. “Those are his books right? He never lets anyone touch those damn things, plus it’s a little obvious you’re hopelessly in love with him.”

You’re mouth suddenly dropped open, your hands clutching the books closer to your chest.

“I am NOT hopelessly in love with him!”

“Oh quit kidding yourself, Y/N,” He teased, “You should see the look on your face whenever you see him. It’s quite cute actually. I mean if I’m being honest, it’s probably him more hopelessly in love with you.”

You laughed incredulously, “You’re fucking with me.”

“No, I’m fucking not.” He said as a matter of factly.

You were uneasy to believe Diego. Yeah, he was your friend, but would he really mess with you about Five? But Five wouldn’t keep things from you, well, that story has been different lately. “How would you know?”

“Y/N, I live with the damn man and you’re always here, do you really not see the way he looks at you? I mean he practically forces it off of his face because even he knows it’s so obvious.”

“I hate you.”

“Ha, no you don’t.”

“I’m leaving now.” You declared as you turned on your heels.

“Upstairs!” Diego called back. You took his word for it and climbed up the stairs, taking a right toward Five’s bedroom. You knocked on his door and waited for an answer, but no one came.

Slowly, you opened the door, just in case he was changing or something, and peaked in. But no one was in the room.

“Five?” You called.

Nothing. Fuckin’ Diego.

You sighed and walked across his room and set his books on his cluttered and messy side table. It was covered in books, pencils, and papers that were scribbled with various equations of the sorts. Before you turned to leave, you noticed a piece of twice-folded papers peaking out from under the books you set down. It had your name on it.

“What?” You whispered to yourself.

You pulled it out, examining the scribbled writing close.

Y/N.

Yeah, that was definitely your name and definitely Five’s handwriting. You’re curiosity peaked your interest, you had to open it. There were more than one pieces of paper folded together. What was this? You took a deep sigh before slowly unfolding the papers.

“Y/N,” it started.

Before you could even make out the first sentence scribbled in pen, a sudden whoosh of air snapped loudly behind you and voice suddenly spoke, “What the hell are you doing?”

You spun around and jumped against his dresser, clutching your hand to your chest. “Jesus Christ! Five!”

He eyed you, brows furrowed together.

“Diego said you’d be upstairs,” you swallowed, “I was just coming to give back your books.”

\Five’s jaw clenched as his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. Without saying a word he marched over to you and snatched the folded papers from your hands, and then swiped his books from his side table.

You watched him ignore you as he began putting the books back in his immaculate bookshelf.

“Thanks for bringing these back, I was beginning to think you never would.”

“What was that?” You questioned, ignoring what he had just said and pointing to the folded papers clenched between his fist.

He answered you without making eye contact, “It’s nothing.”

“It has my name on it.” You attested firmly.

Five began losing his patience and responded through gritted teeth, “It’s. Nothing. Y/N.”

You marched toward him, getting as close as you could. “It has my name on it, it pertains to me, so don’t I have the right to even ask what it is?”

Suddenly, Five slammed a book into the shelf and turned to you with a near-raging glint in his eyes. “For God’s sake, Y/N, why part of ‘it’s nothing’ do you not understand?”

Before he could begin an angry rant, you grabbed the folded papers and turned away from him. The papers crinkled madly between your fingers. Five suddenly appeared in front of you, ripping the papers from you.

“What are you hiding from me, Five?” You exclaimed, “Why have you been hiding—“

“God, Y/N, mind your own business. You’re insufferable!”

You just stared at him with disbelief before regaining your composure. Was he really holding back? His expression didn’t change. He just glared at you with the same hard face and furrowed brows. You shook your head, you missed Five. What happened? “Get out,” he muttered.

Are you serious?

“Get out, Y/N.”

You couldn’t believe him. So, this is really how it was going to be. After all this time? “Fine.” You spat. “Keep secrets from me. It’s not like you haven’t been anyway.”

You grabbed your things and didn’t even look back at him before marching out of the room. Five didn’t follow. He didn’t even apparate to reach you.

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

Five couldn’t move. One part of his brain screamed at him, telling him to run after you, the other part told him to stop. His body was stuck.

“Y/N..” His voiced wavered.

But the sound of your shoes stomping loudly down against the wooden staircase echoed throughout the hallway. He shut his eyes at the sound of the back door slamming shut.

“Shit.” He breathed. You literally walked out on him. Well, partly because he had yelled at you to, but it felt like you had just walked out of his life, and damn, that shit hurt hard.

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

He always did this. Teleporting in and out of your room out of the blue was something Five did around you, but most of the time it was without warning

“Five, you know you’re my favorite but you gotta like, give a girl some warning.” You said standing at your bedroom doorway as the fifth Hargreeves child sat on the foot of your bed. He unfolded his arms and smiled at the sight of you in your pajamas with a toothbrush clutched in your hand.

“Everyone was being annoying as hell at home, and you’re the only person I knew who wouldn’t pester the shit outta me.” He answered. You laughed and narrowed your eyes down at him, “Don’t try me, Hargreeves.”

You moved toward your bed and flopped over with a tired groan, “Sometimes I wish I could drop out of school and join you guys.”

You heard Five laugh as if you were joking. “You know that’s not how it works, Y/N, plus there’s no way you’d want to join us.”

“Um, yeah I would? I could be like. . Number 8. .”

His heart began to race. There was no way he’d let you into any of danger he and his family were put into. You continued to babble anyway, “. . .I could be the normal one. . .the distraction. . .”

“No, Y/N!” He suddenly interjected. Your eyes widen at his sudden outburst, after all you had just been joking? You noticed he quickly backed down at the sound of his rising voice. He didn’t want to scare you. “I--sorry--it’s just--”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “It’s too dangerous. You’ll get hurt.” He muttered under his breath

You couldn’t help but not suppress your smile. Instead of getting all blushy and giddy, you playfully nudged him. “Aww, does Five want to protect me from the bad bad world?”

He rolled his eyes.

“C’mon, Five, admit it, you love me sooo much!” You laughed, “You’d die without me!”

There was a split second in time, where Five wanted nothing more than to confess just that. He wanted to protect you. He wanted to keep you safe from the bad world. And maybe, just maybe, in that moment in time, he realized he would do anything to keep you from the dangerous life he lead. He loved you.

You waved your hand in front of his face. “Five?” He was staring at you like he was mesmerized almost, “Hello?”

He blinked suddenly, playing off his intense staring nonchalantly. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

You giggled. “Are you high?” You joked, “You want some water or somethin’?”

Five chuckled and his signature smirk spread across his face, “You trying to pester me now?”

You laughed, holding onto his arm, “No I swear!”

“I think I should go.” He teased, standing up.

“Noooo, Five don’t go!” You whined, tugging at his arm.

“Then promise me you’ll never wish to join this madness ever again?” He declared.

You squinted at him.

Then something in him dropped. His voice lowered, his eyes softened, the sarcastic and teasing Five evaporated into thin air, and his face suddenly molded into a state of gentleness. You were taken aback. Whenever you saw Five like this, you knew it was serious. But why was he so worked up about a joke you had made? “Y/N? Promise me?” He murmured lowly.

You hesitated a little, but when you realized how serious he was, you nodded and held out your pinky finger. “I promise.”

Five almost looked relieved when reached out to cross his pinky with yours. He sat down on your bed next to you again and stayed until late. He didn’t teleport back home till it was nearly midnight.

“Thanks for having me over,” he said moving to the middle of your room. You could only chuckled, “It’s not like I had a choice.”

He grinned to himself, “True.”

“Alright, Hargreeves, get outta here.”

He stared at you a few seconds more before saying, “See ya later,” as he saluted you zapping himself back home.

In a matter of seconds, he found himself in the middle of his own room instead of yours. He smiled to himself and thought about you for god knows how long. Your laugh, your smile, your kindness, your humour easily clicking with his. . . you were his constant. You were it.

And so before he went to bed, Five shuffled over to his desk and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. At the top of the first page, he wrote your name. . .

“Y/N.”

. . .and began writing everything he could about you. He wrote everything he loved about you, everything he wished he could say to you, everything he would do for you. He wrote it all down. Everything. Everything.

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

You hadn’t seen Five in days. Sure you went to visit his siblings, but you hadn’t gone to visit Five. You’d maybe catch a glimpse of him every now and then but it was as if things had gone back to how they were a few months ago. He just seemed. . .disinterested now. At one point, you both caught each others glances and awkwardly tore your eyes away from each other, but that was it. You missed him. You missed his voice. You missed his sarcasm. You missed seeing him teleporting into your room and waiting to rant to you about some equation he had just solved or the mission he and his family had just gotten back from. You just missed him.

It was around 11 o’clock when you had just left the Hargreeves household. You had just gone thrift-shopping with Allison and Vanya, and it took the entire day. Vanya had noticed something off about you when you came to watch her rehearse for a bit and suggested the three of you do something to take your mind off whatever it was. Needless to say, all three of you were quite productive. Amongst the multiple bags the three of you carried, Allison found this particularly soft pink boa and Vanya sported a thick varsity jacket and a blue pullover.

After dropping the Hargreeves girls off, you trudged back home, ready to knock out in bed. You were exhausted, who knew both Allison and Vanya would get a kick out of a simple past time?

Once you got up the stairs (which took a damn long time), you were so ready to just fling open your door and throw yourself over your bed.

Flinging your door open, the lights suddenly flicked on much to your extreme surprise and you found Five sitting on the edge of your bed with his arms folded, and the same intriguing expression written across his face.

“He-“HOLY SHIT!”

Five quickly jumped to his feet and used his ability to jump toward you and cover your mouth. “Jesus Y/N could you be any louder?” He reprimanded.

“Y/N?” You heard your mother call from the bottom of the staircase, “Are you alright?”

Five arched his eyebrows at you and slowly removed his hand from your face.

“Yeah mom,” You said, your voice hinting at a bit of wavering, “I’m okay.”

You shut your eyes, letting your heartbeat compose itself before shutting your bedroom door, and then subsequently smacking Five on his shoulder. . .multiple times.

“What the f--HEY--STOP!”

“What. The. Hell. Five. Hargreeves?” You whispered harshly, hitting him through those words. “You cannot just keep surprising me in my room when I least expect to see you? Seriously? Especially after you haven’t spoken to me--in what--like a week or so? No, I think it’s been longer! You totally just cut me off and I deserve an explanation!”

Five tried to interject, “Y/N”

But you kept ranting.

“Y/N.”

You wouldn’t stop.

“Y/N!” He tried again.

But damn you were persistent.

“Y/N, for crying out loud, are you going to let me speak or am I going to have to stop you?” He said over your tangent.

You stopped, but only to sarcastically say, “Try me, right now I dare--”

And much to your low expectations, he stopped you.

With his lips.

He stopped you. . .with his lips.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your hands were stuck by your sides as Five grabbed onto your shoulders, and slowly moved to cup your cheeks. His lips were soft and gentle against yours, he was not only trying to silence you from ranting, but he was also trying to get through to you.

After an unknown amount of time, he pulled away, shocked that even he had just done that. The room around you had suddenly fallen away, like the waves of an ocean quickly falling back into the sea. Your ears were rushing, your heart was beating a million beats per minute, and all you could see was Five, staring straight at you.

“Five. .” you whispered, taking a step toward him.

To your surprise, he didn’t move. “I’m sorry,” He suddenly blurted.

You shook your head, still feeling the pressure of his lips pressed against yours. “No. Don’t be sorry.”

“I couldn’t tell you,” he started, “I couldn’t tell you anything because--I don’t know--I-“

“Five,” You said as you grabbed both of his hands. He looked up you, his eyes catching yours. “It’s okay, you can breathe.”

And somewhere in his hardened eyes, everything calmed down. His gaze softened and his heartbeat came to a steady beat. He looked down at your two hands holding his and smiled for the first time in a long time. He squeezed your hands in his. You chuckled and squeezed back.

“I have something for you.” He whispered.

He sat down at the edge your bed again and pulled a piece of folded paper out from the inside of his jacket pocket. It was the same letter that had your name on it. The same heavy letter you found in Five’s bedroom. “Oh Five, you don’t have to—“

“No.” He shook his head and handed it to you, “The last few days were. . .insane without you. I almost thought I lost you I—” He stopped and closed his eyes.

“It’s okay, Five.” You began, “I’m not mad at you.”

“It’s not that I’m worried you’re mad at me, Y/N, I’m mad at myself. I’m strong and brave enough to do other things like jump through time, or kill people, or save the goddamn world, but I’m not brave enough to tell you. . .how I feel.”

Your breath suddenly hitched. Was he actually saying what you think he was? Silence fell upon both of you as you both just enjoyed the presence of another in your dimly lit bedroom. “How do you feel..exactly?” You wondered

“I really care about you, Y/N, I always have.” He whispered, “You’re the only person in my life who has stayed by my side all this time.”

“I mean besides your family.” You added.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, besides my family.” He opened his mouth to say something, but passed on the moment.

“What, Five?” You pressed, “Say it.”

After what seemed like a while, Five just handed you the letter that held everything he harbored for you. It was heavy, like he had written every ounce of what he felt and poured it into paper, it seemed very un-Five like, but somehow, it seemed to be the only way to get through to you.

“I don’t want to watch you read it.” He said standing up and walking to the middle of your bedroom, “Take your time, and then we'll talk.”

You held the letter in your hand and smiled.

“i’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, Y/N, and I’m pretty sure I should’ve told you that a long long time ago. You’re everything to me. You always have been, I’ve just never had the guts to tell you everything, how much you mean to me, y’know? But hey, here I am now.” He said, looking at you in that special way he always used to. However, this time, his eyes glinted with this intensity of deep affection. And with his hand in his pockets, he was grinning that signature grin you missed so much, and zapped himself back home again.

“God, I missed you, Five.” You whispered.

And without hesitating another beat, you quickly unfolded the pieces of paper bunched together and read the first line written clearly in Five’s penmanship.

“Y/N,”

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

Authors Note: Message me your thoughts and or requests! This took me forever, so I’d appreciate feedback :)

#the umbrella academy imagine #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #tua imagines #the umbrella academy imagines #five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves headcanon #the umbrella academy fanfiction #five hargreeves

4K notes · View notes

hardlylo · 5 years

Text

como la flor

synopsis: best friend’s dad! luke (also lawyer!luke) and montserrat are about to enter a world full of pain, tears, and happiness. inspired by the amazing series by @morningfears (pls do not expect this to be nearly as beautifully written as her series)

warnings: like one little word of swearing, age gap? (montserrat is aged 22 with luke 43/44)

author’s note: latina!protagonist because i feel this needs to be more of a thing. portrayed by cierra ramirez. please, puhlease provide feedback! i plan to make this a series unless it fails miserably then we’re just gonna forget this ever happened, capeche? i plan to make this like a telenovela: full of angst and drama that’s so ridiculous it’s good.

word count: 2,239

taglist: feel free to message to be added!

“Mr. Hemmings?” She whispered, gently rasping her knuckles over the hardwood door frame. She was met with the ocean blue eyes she dreamed of every night. “I’m all finished up, I’ll be heading out here in a few minutes. Just wanted to thank you again.” Her voice remained low, the tiredness seeping through her tone.

Montserrat Valdez had just finished up a grueling summer internship. It was a start in the right direction, putting to use what she paid thousands of dollars to learn, but it was no less than daunting. It was an amazing opportunity that practically fell in her lap. It was hard, exhausting, and she wasn’t sure if it was the case files or the gorgeous boss that made her have constant sleepless nights-but, she made it.

Luke glanced up from his paperwork, meeting the dark amber hues of the brunette. He had been so busy with his case that time had completely escaped him. He gave her a warm smile, slicking a loose piece of hair from his face. “Please, come in.” he gestured, pen in hand, to the leather chair in front of him.

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor, the leather squeaking from her sudden presence. “If you’re busy I can go! It’s not like I won’t see you this weekend,” she chuckled, reminding him of the constant weekend plans she had with his daughter. “Besides, this looks important.”

“You worry too much,” he consoled, “I was just finishing up anyway.” With a flick of the folder the papers disappeared. He folded his hands on the desk top, “I wanted to see you before you left anyways, congratulate you on surviving your first two months of adulthood.”

Monte laughed with a blush, her eyes breaking the contact to sweep the floor. “Thank you, I appreciate it immensely.”

He gave her a soft wink, “That’s the fifth time you’ve said that. You’re quite welcome. And to congratulate you further I was hoping you’d let me buy you a drink.” Her interest peaked, her back straightening. “Unless that’s too awkward for you.”

“No!” she squeaked, “n-no. I would actually love to. I could definitely use a drink.” Her laugh was light, filling the room with a melodic sound. Luke felt a small flutter in his chest, but he quickly convinced himself he was just getting hungry.

“In that case, meet me at the house at six? It’s not like you don’t already know where I live.” He chuckled back, their moods bouncing off one another.

Montserrat stood, straightening out her pencil skirt, “will Lynnly be coming?” It wasn’t that she didn’t want the other girl to come, but there was a small hitch in her mind that desperately wished for alone time. Besides, she saw her nearly every other day of the week-being best friends and all. Or sisters, as they called themselves. They had been close ever since they both joined the same sorority in college. They stuck like glue for the next four years and found themselves as friends, sisters, and even neighbors.

The girls also found themselves at the older Hemmings house every weekend when they made their ventures home. Montserrat’s parents didn’t even live in the country, which made Luke welcome her with open arms-not wanting such a delicate soul to be left alone in the world. They also grew to be close, sharing little moments here and there. But nothing ever came to fruition. Not with Lynnly around every corner.

Maybe that’s why the internship had been so hard. Montserrat had finally had chances to be near him without a mediator. Yet, it never got better. They were either in a professional setting or joining his daughter on the couch for family night. It was a never ending cycle of missed chances and she wasn’t so sure she had anymore hope In her. Until today.

“I’ll throw the invite out, but I think she mentioned something along the lines of going out with Peter.” He shrugged, clearly not bothered if he missed the other’s presence.

Montserrat made her way back to the door way, her head looking back for a last look in the office. “See you at six, boss.”

A hand reached for the doorbell in hesitation. It pulled back. It pushed forward again. It pulled back. Why was this so difficult? All she had to do was enter the same house she’d barged into plenty of times before. Yet, this was different. She felt that she had to be proper, respectful. Should she ring the doorbell? Knock? What if he was in the shower? He’d never hear her.

The door drew back with a creak, the sudden movement making the brunette jump back in surprise. “Were you just going to stand here all night or were you going to come in?” An arrogant smirk lay on his lips as he took in the girl before him. He’d never seen her so nervous-she was usually a go getter, someone with so much confidence she could easily make friends with just a hello.

Montserrat let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. Her heart was still pounding from the scare; or, maybe it was the fact that the only thing on him was a white towel, loosely bunched at his waist. “Um, I just-“ she fumbled, “I didn’t know if you’d want me to just barge in like that. I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Come on in,” he mused, making way for her to enter the house. “I would tell you to make yourself at home, but you practically live here anyways. I just need to freshen up and we can get going.”

She didn’t even realize she was staring until she heard his throat clear. “Y-yeah. I’ll just go…sit on the couch.” Her voice was weak with nerves. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to multiply. ‘stop staring’ she repeated in her head, trying to regain some of her dignified composure.

Luke’s eyebrow raised in humorous curiosity. “Did you have some drinks before you came over?” he asked as he made his way up the stairwell. “You never could pregrame. Your pregaming is gaming. Always were the lightweight, Monte.”

Her eyes never left his silhouette until the closing door blocked her view. She placed a hand to her chest, trying to still her racing heart. She shuffled through the hallway, glancing at the pictures up on the wall. God-he had always been so good looking. It was a wonder to her that he wasn’t married, but you’d never find her complaining.

She plopped on the couch, crossing her golden toned legs. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the hem of her romper. She needed to snap out of this trance and quick. It was bad enough that Lynnly wasn’t around to be a mediator, now with the promise of alcohol looming in the air it was only a matter of time before Montserrat was word vomiting all over the place.

“Are you alright?” He questioned, appearing from the hall. Montserrat jumped again, a small squeak of surprise leaving her lips. How did he manage to keep sneaking up on her? You would think he’d be heavy footed enough to give her ears an incoming warning of footsteps.

His body plopped down next to hers, so close that he could smell her floral perfume. “I’m fine,” she lied, her knee gently knocking his. “I think I’m just tired, you know? It’s been a crazy two months.” What a load of crap.

“Look at me,” he softly demanded, dipping his head down to try to search her eyes for answers. He couldn’t understand what the sudden change in personality was. She was usually so warm and inviting to him. Now he seemed to be cast out like a puppy in the rain. Her pitiful eyes met his, giving no sign of her true feelings. “Did I do something?”

Montserrat practically flew off the couch, her legs immediately pacing in the large living room. “God, of course you didn’t!” A hand moved through her hair, trying to keep it from her reddening face. “I’m just-“ she let out an exasperated groan-“fuck!” He couldn’t help but watch her in amazement. He’d never witnessed her so flustered.

“I’m mad at myself,” she continued, seemingly talking to the air. “You know, for the last three years I’ve only ever looked at you as Lynnly’s dad. The guy who let me pass out in his guest bedroom when I drank too much getting over my ex. You were just my best friend’s dad. And then you give me this internship and suddenly I’m with you all the time. I get to know you so personally. I call you by your name, not just ‘Lynnly’s dad’, we were up late all those nights ordering takeout in your office, you even stood up for me when those clients were yelling at me. And here I am, feeling like I’m 15 years old because I have a crush on my friend’s dad. Who was also my boss. Yet I’m scared it’s not just a little school girl crush because it’s been progressing for months now. And then you go and ask me for drinks! Now here I am, trying to act like I didn’t just witness you half naked twenty minutes ago, but I can’t. So yeah, I guess I’m a little mad at you too for answering the door in a fucking towel.”

All the months of flirting, sending subtle ‘come get me’ signs, were finally boiling over. Everyone had noticed the care free, love induced banter that went between the two. A lot of people wrote it off as them just being close friends. Some could see through the facades, sensing the sexual tension. She always looked at him with sweet lovesick puppy eyes, and he always returned the sentiments. He would leave his hand on the small of her back a few seconds too long as he passed by her in the conference rooms, she’d let her head fall on his shoulder as they watched another boring movie Lynnly picked out. The tension had been building for too long. Montserrat had finally burst. She never knew how much her love struck tantrum would change her life.

There was silence. Dark, ear shattering silence. Luke didn’t know what to say. Had he noticed the girl getting flirtier? More open? Of course he had. But he was twice her age. He couldn’t just ask her out for dinner and drive her home afterwards. There were jobs and lives involved. He figured she’d grow out of it-meet someone else at the club, go on double dates with Lynnly and Peter, never to be seen in the Hemmings house again. But she was always there. No matter what happened he could always count on the spicy, kind hearted girl to show up on his door step.

Montserrat’s movements finally ceased. Her chest was heaving trying to catch her breath. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. “Ay dios mio,” she whined, her eyes beginning to well with tears. She had never felt more embarrassed. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

Luke gently pushed himself off the couch. His hands cradled her cheeks, bringing her face to look at him. “You don’t want this.” He murmured, his forehead pressing to hers. “I’m not worth anything. I’m an old man to you. You are way too gorgeous, sweet, intelligent, too everything to even bother your pretty little head with thoughts about me. I’m completely undeserving.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t want.” She softly nipped. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, noticing her usual spark coming back. Her hands clasped onto his, “tell me you want this. That you’ve at least thought of it like I have.”

He contemplated his words carefully. He could easily lie to her, let her down gently. But their current position made it impossible for him to look her in the eyes and not tell her the truth. “Of course I’ve thought about it.” He spoke truthfully, “I never told you this, but that night you came over to help with the Brennings case, you had a little too much champagne, and fell asleep on my shoulder in the office, remember?” She nodded in remembrance as he spoke, “I carried you to bed that night. And I held you for a while after that because that’s all you wanted. You woke up long enough to ask me to hold you and I did. But I had to leave you before I fell asleep because I didn’t want Lynnly to get the wrong idea the next morning. Ever since then, all I’ve ever wanted to do was to hold you again without having to let go.”

Montserrat lifted herself on her tip toes, bringing her lips within mere centimeters of his. Her eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes, silently asking for permission. He gave her a nod before lightly pressing their lips together. Her hands fell to his chest, slightly gripping the tshirt material. There were no sparks. There were no fireworks. There were no feet popping up in the symbol of true love’s kiss. Instead there was a feeling of normalcy. Like this was how she was supposed to feel. This was comfortable, relaxing. It was as if they’d always known each other’s taste.

Luke reluctantly pulled away, taking in a deep breath. He gave her a smile, a genuine, deep smile. He hadn’t felt this way in years: excited, fresh, completed. There were still tons of fears in the back of his mind, but the blushed smile on her face blew them all away without a word.

“I think we’re going to have a lot of talking to do,” she mused, pressing her lips to his again for one quick peck.

He led them back to the couch, pulling her gently onto his lap. Her nose instantly nudged into his neck, breathing in the comforting sandalwood cologne. He brushed hair from her face, laying a hand to her hip to keep her close. “I have all the time in the world to talk about whatever’s on your pretty little mind.”

#luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings x reader #bfd!luke #luke!au #luke hemmings #5sos imagine #5sos series #luke hemmings series #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings x oc #calum hood #calum hood imagine #michael clifford #michael clifford imagine #ashton irwin #ashton irwin imagine #luke hemmings smut

109 notes · View notes

iscoliya · 5 years

Text

The Thunderbird’s Call - Chapter 1

A longer chapter this time - hope you enjoy! :)

“With all due respect, Your Highness, I believe I speak for everyone present when I say that your constant refusal of any and all betrothal propositions for one reason or another is making our situation a little difficult.” At the calculating glint in the other’s eyes, a sudden sense of dread takes hold of him; a feeling that he isn’t going to like what is about to come next. As it turns out, he is right. “Though my guess is that we can all imagine what the cause for your actions may be.”

“Councillor!” Rei tries to interject, but her attempt to calm the waters goes unheard by both parties.

“I am honestly curious, what is it that keeps the crown prince going back to a common omega with nothing to his name but his body? Or is it just that?”

«Prologue

Chapter 2»

read on AO3

Kazuya

Despite Eijun’s best efforts, Kazuya figures he is late again since everyone else seems to be present already when he arrives at the council chambers. As the members rise at his entrance, he sweeps a glance through the room and takes in the three missing faces, none of them surprising to him; after all, both General Kataoka Tesshin and Takigawa Chris Yuu, who usually serves as bookkeeper and scribe at these sessions, are currently away on a reconnaissance mission and his father – well. His father rarely attends meetings these days, almost permanently holed up in his study or discussing state matters in private and trusting his son and the council members to relay important information if need be. It even seems startling whenever he chooses to attend meals with others instead of eating by himself, Kazuya muses as he settles in his seat right next to the table’s head side.

“So good of you to join us, Your Highness,” councilman Ochiai Hiromitsu, drawls from a spot to his left, though he remains ignored for the time being. Yup, definitely late.

Apart from the king, himself and the aforementioned, the capital’s inner council usually comprises two more members; Oota Kazuyoshi, an older alpha who has already been in service before Kazuya was even born, and Takashima Rei, a beta with exceptional analytical skills and a tactical mind almost on par with his own. On this day they have two other attendees in the form of Yuuki Tetsuya, a young alpha who has risen through the ranks quickly due to his military prowess, and Watanabe Hisashi, a beta close to Kazuya’s own age who aspires to become an intelligence gatherer for the royal family in the future. With the General and Chris absent, the two of them should take over their duties as the military mouthpiece and scribe respectively to ensure both a proper communication between all areas of the court and a record of the concerns mentioned.

In the brief silence that emerged after his entrance and Ochiai’s subsequent comment, his gaze finally seeks that of Rei, as he trusts her to present the issues in need of addressing and to mediate the discussions that are quite probable to arise; especially if one certain topic is brought up again…

“Thank you all for attending this early meeting,” Rei begins and as she starts to drone on about taxes and dues, Kazuya takes this as his cue to drift off slightly. Of course, he knows he should be paying close attention to the dealings of what will probably be his kingdom in the near future, but with sleep just around the corner and a certain omega’s scent still lingering in his nostrils, he can’t help but think about the latter and the way he fit in his arms so perfectly. How he smells so much more powerful without the aid of the suppressants Kazuya knows tend to make him tired and woozy after a while. The way his body responded so beautifully to his touch after the initial tension, so relaxed and pliable, both firm and soft in all the right places. How his eyes are an unadulterated mirror of his emotions, sparkling from excitement, gleaming with mischief, blazing with anger and at times downright smouldering. The way his unique purring resonated through his whole body, willing his own crooning to come forward, almost as if calling to his alpha to come forward and play. How he wanted to–

“What do you think, Your Highness?” Rei’s voice again, this time pulling him out of his very private thoughts and all of a sudden, all eyes are on him. However, Kazuya is not one to go down that easily.

“I agree that while a more detailed treaty with the Eastern forces can only be of great advantage to us, we should not let ourselves be crossed over that easily,” he begins, surveying the present members one after another. “After all, our economy is the more stable one while they are struggling, so let them bring their terms to us and see if their propositions are within reason.” A quick glance at Rei and the appreciative smile she sends his way tells him that his answer is to her satisfaction. Silently, he sends a little prayer of thanks to the gods for his ability to keep track of things even while distracted as well as the control he has over his scent and expression. However, he should probably invest himself a little more into the discussion.

“That being said, how are the new recruits coming along, Yuuki?” he asks, not least in order to remove a little attention from his person. Looking at the other, it still feels a little weird to be talking to him in such a formal setting when they have trained and played shougi together on a regular basis not too long ago.

“Very well, Your Highness,” the addressed alpha replies while instantly straightening up a little more. “Most of them have shown great promise over the duration of the last training periods. We expect them to be ready for service by next spring at the latest.” If he looks a little proud at the last statement, no one calls him out on it. It is a well-known fact how much he, as one of the youngest guard captains in the kingdom’s history, contributes to both the new and already seasoned warriors’ training.

“Good, good. A few retirements are in order for next year, so we can definitely use some new manpower,” Kazuya muses and a gaze out of the window tells him that they have already been at it for quite a while, since the sun has long risen up high in the sky. “Now, if that is all for today, we should–“

“Actually,” Rei disrupts his words of parting, “there is one more subject to discuss.” A slightly hesitant look in his direction tells him everything he needs to know about what is to come. “We have received a proposal from the Fujiwara family. They would like to offer the hand of their youngest daughter to Your Highness in courtship.”

Now that seems a little baffling to Kazuya, and a sideways glance in Yuuki’s direction, who has grown almost imperceptibly stiff at the last sentences, tells him that he isn’t the only one. The Fujiwara are one of Seidou’s most prominent merchant families, incredibly wealthy and many a family member holds an influential position within the capital; thus, it is to no surprise that they are also known being rather prideful in regards to their standing and achievements. The youngest daughter of the main branch being only slightly his senior, he has known Takako since a rather young age, as she spent quite some time at court with other young omegas from influential families for educational purposes. However, he also knows that during this time, she has grown rather close with a certain loud-mouthed guard, whose intentions to one day start courting her have turned into a bit of a not-quite secret amongst the palace staff. And the fact that even Yuuki, being as close to a best friend of Isashiki as it can get, doesn’t appear to have any prior knowledge to the fact that the Fujiwara seem to have other plans for their daughter, speaks for itself in regards to the question of whether this proposal is a consensual one. Despite the possibly delicate nature of the matter, Kazuya doesn’t have to think twice about his answer.

“No.” If the issue weren’t as serious, he would have relished the throughout bewildered faces of the people around him. As it stands, he keeps his face calm and devoid of any emotion despite the storm brewing inside him.

“No?” Ochiai is the one to break the silence in his usual nonchalant fashion, although he, too, seems to be a little surprised by the decisiveness of his response.

“While I am aware that the Fujiwara family plays a crucial part in the goings of the capital and it would be an honour to incorporate one of their members into the royal household, I do not think that Takako-san and I would make a great match. Besides,” he adds when he sees Oota open his mouth in protest from the corner of his eye, “I am not going to accept a proposal that was made without a potential partner’s explicit consent, nor will I stand in the way of a relationship that has been in the making for quite some time.” His accompanying stern glance, however, doesn’t seem to be fully effective, as it doesn’t take long for words of objection to emerge.

“But Your Highness, please consider that we cannot be certain whether such a relationship actually exists,” Oota tries to reason, even though it seems a little half-hearted. “And as you yourself said, the Fujiwara would be a tremendous strategic asset to the crown, not to mention the dowry* brought into a potential marriage.”

“Also, technically a consent of the spouse-to-be is not essential if the parents agree to the match,” Ochiai muses, twirling his goatee thoughtfully.

“I am not going to force someone to mate with me, such out-dated practises have been abolished long ago for a reason.” Though it doesn’t show in his tone, Kazuya can feel tension rising in his body at the councilman’s objection. The nerve– “Apart from that, please keep in mind that the council has agreed in the past on a betrothal with a party from another kingdom being better suited for political purposes.”

“Councillor!” Rei tries to interject, but her attempt to calm the waters goes unheard by both parties.

“I am honestly curious, what is it that keeps the crown prince going back to a common omega with nothing to his name but his body? Or is it just that?”

“Silence!”

The whole room startles under the combined force of Kazuya’s voice and the way he slams his palms on the table as he stands. Usually, he might be ashamed about such an emotional outburst, but at this moment, as he feels himself trembling with rage, he can’t think about anything but the fact that someone has just dared to insult his mate. However, as quick as his alpha side has emerged, he forces it back down while realizing that he might just have given his adversary exactly what he has been hoping for. Subtly, he takes a calming breath before addressing the older again.

“You speak of respect, yet your words show anything but. This ‘common omega’ you refer to has been accepted as a member of the royal family in everything but name, therefore an insult against him is an insult against the crown.” Finally, after another few seconds, Ochiai averts his gaze under the hard stare he is targeted by. “I do not know about the grievances you seem to have against him, but I can assure you that there is nothing between us that would be of any relevance to this council. Regardless,” and at this, he returns his attention to everyone present, “I will not have anyone disrespect him, be it in my presence or otherwise.”

All of a sudden, he feels weary and tired, as if a large burden has been placed upon his head. Gone is the happiness he felt just this morning and he longs for that comforting presence at his side, but he knows that he has to bring this to an end first.

“Without meaning any slight, I hereby humbly reject the Fujiwara family’s proposal and that is final,” he states and before anyone else can interrupt, he straightens up to his full height, preparing to leave. “If there is nothing else for the time being, I would like to adjudge this meeting to be concluded.”

_____________

Youichi

‘Yikes,’ is the first thing that comes to his mind when he spots a rather dishevelled Eijun entering the training grounds and manages to detect a certain prince’s scent on him from what feels like miles away; judging by some of the other soldiers’ either intimidated or wary reactions, he isn’t the only one. Tamping down the urge to keep back from someone smelling so blatantly aggressive of another alpha, he makes a beeline for the unassuming omega and deals him a swift kick to the backside.

“Nice bedhead you got goin’ there, hyaha,” he cackles and can’t withhold a satisfied grin at the pained yelp his action is met with.

“Senpai, that hurt!” Eijun whines pitifully while trying to rub his aching body part as well as fix his messy hair at the same time; a quite comical picture, Youichi notices with malicious joy. “And it’s not my fault!”

“Hoo?” Of course the alpha can imagine who the actual culprit behind the other’s the tousled appearance is, at least judging by the persistent scent clinging to him, but he wouldn’t be true to his prankster nature if he didn’t keep the other in suspense for a little while. Taking him into a headlock and destroying the carefully re-crafted hairstyle, he walks them in the direction of the barracks, ignoring the accompanying protests. “Then I guess neither does the fact that you’ve got Miyuki’s name basically written all over your scent have anything to do with you, hm?”

While he struggles to keep himself from face planting right into the ground, a frustrated groan leaves the omega. “Stupid clingy tanuki bastard, wants to get me into trouble all the time…”

Grinding to a halt, Youichi eyes his companion incredulously; he can’t possibly be that daft, can he? That is, until he spots the light blush on the other’s cheeks, a total contrast to his cursing and disgruntled demeanour. As if burned, he releases the chokehold, rolling his eyes and releasing an annoyed tsk. Those two were just fucking unbelievable.

“Jeez, idiot,” he sighs, folding his hands behind his head, careful to keep his voice low so they wouldn’t be overheard. He is definitely not the right person for this kind of talk. “Y’know, the sooner you two admit you like each other, the sooner you can finally start courting.”

“C-courting?!”

Oh, there goes his attempt at subtlety.

“Not so loud, stupid! What are you, a retard?” he hisses and slaps his counterpart over the head as he notices a few heads turning towards them.

“But who says anything about courting?” Eijun mumbles sullenly and his pout might have been a little endearing if it weren’t for the sheer stupidity of it all. “You know we’re not like that, Kuramochi-senpai.” At the way the other averts his gaze just so, Youichi can feel something tugging at his heartstrings.

Although he would probably never admit it out loud, over the years he has developed something of a brotherly instinct towards the brunette loudmouth. Granted, at first, when he moved to the capital at fourteen in order to train to become a soldier, he was more than irritated by his antics and overall behaviour, constantly yapping and going on about becoming the best swordsman there is. Also, he didn’t quite know what to make of this young omega who tried so desperately to prove himself in a world dominated by alphas and betas; where he came from, a village in rural Chiba, people were still of the out-dated mind set that omegas were somewhat inferior compared to the other dynamics and should mainly busy themselves with housework and caring for their families. Youichi himself never paid much heed to such things, as in his eyes deeds spoke louder than words and everyone should have the right to do what they like to do. But even in the capital, where the old-fashioned opinion of alpha superiority and prejudices are slowly dying out, an omega in military training is something more than just an unusual sight, if not openly frowned upon. After all, omegas in general are supposed to be more meek and soft, thus allegedly missing the fierceness and resolve to thrive in such a competitive and aggressive environment. Therefore, sadly, it was a given that Eijun had to prove himself double the amount that others had to, on a daily basis at that. Even now, Youichi isn’t sure if he will be allowed to actually hold a position in the military despite undergoing the same training every recruit has to successfully complete.

He remembers vividly some of the abuse the other had to endure; not just because of his secondary gender but even more so due to his past or rather the lack of his memories thereof. He remembers how others made fun of him and his slender built, ridiculed his admittedly abysmal skills in archery, called him a no-name and a freak, a charity case or the prince’s pet. Never in front of the instructors, mind you, and least of all ever within any vicinity of Miyuki, who, as it turned out, might as well have gone on a rampage if he ever caught wind of someone badmouthing or mistreating the omega. But even with Eijun keeping silent on the matter and bearing everything people threw at him, something must have slipped through, because after a while, Miyuki took to scenting him every now and then; both a clear sign for others to back off and his own way of trying to protect him. And he wasn’t the only one to stand up for him.

He doesn’t know when exactly he started to feel like this, but Youichi can admit to himself that he respects the younger. He came to respect his drive and wilful nature, his fiercely loyal streak, his optimistic and open attitude and the way he drags everyone around him along and makes them want to be better than they have ever been. He respects his independence, as he was never the type to tattle or ask for help; on the contrary, he insists on dealing with things, no matter how difficult, by himself, without relying too much on others. He respects his kind-heartedness and impartiality. He even respects his skills in swordplay, lousy as they were in the beginning. And thus he, too, has become protective of the other; not that it has been necessary for quite some time now, not with him finding more and more friends and improving drastically over time. And if he shows his affection through wrestling and light insults, well… The parties involved surely know these gestures for what they are. And as such–

“Look, moron,” he begins as calmly as he can and ignores the consequent interjection of “How did I go from idiot to moron?!”. “Usually I’d say it’s none of my business and maybe it ain’t. But believe it or not, I want your stupid ass to be happy and if it takes that bastard for that, then go for it.”

“But I told you–“

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not like that, he doesn’t like you like that or whatever. That’s why you arrived here looking and smelling as if you’d just rolled right outta bed with him.”

If Eijun has been blushing before, it is nothing compared to the completely red, flustered mess these words turn him into right at that moment. Youichi might actually pity him, the display not that far off from some kind of fish gasping for water, but he is trying to make a point here, dammit.

“I can see it, everyone can see it, except for you. Or maybe you can but are so deep in denial that–“

“I get it.”

Okay, that is not the reaction Youichi has been expecting; more yelling, for sure, and maybe some more stuttering but not something akin to acceptance and resignation in that small voice. He decides he doesn’t like it.

“I get it, I really do, even if I’m kinda stupid sometimes,” the brunette continues with a rueful grin. “I know he cares for me, some way or another. But I– We can’t–“ For once, he seems to be at a loss for words and where the alpha might have celebrated the occasion any other day, he starts to feel slightly ill. Because he knows what has the usually airheaded and even a little careless omega so down, and his heart goes out to his friends; plural since despite how much he likes to rant about Miyuki’s personality being the worst there is, over the years he has also turned into one of his best friends. Therefore, them being so obviously smitten with each other but feeling unable to act on their wishes makes him want to go fuck something up.

Suddenly, the all too familiar subtle scent of newly cut grass and jasmine invades his senses, milliseconds before a precise chop is delivered on Eijun’s head.

“Don’t think too hard or you’ll hurt yourself,” comes the deceptively calm voice that manages to send shivers down his spine every time he hears it.

“Onii-san, not you too!”

The beta in question turns his supposedly amicable smile from Eijun to him and he feels his own grin slip from his face. Somehow, he has a bad feeling about this.

“Ah, Ryou-san. We were just…” Jeez, why is it that he, the usually ever so eloquent one, doesn’t know what to say when face to face with this one person. There he goes, preaching about sorting feelings out to others; maybe he should take his own advice someday.

“Late for training?” Ryousuke suggests slyly and his words startle Eijun out of his stupor.

“Aahhh, Captain is going to kill me!” And with that, he is off like an arrow and leaves Youichi in a rather uncomfortable situation.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.”

“You’re not gonna let me live it down, are you?”

“Now where would the fun in that be?”

_____________

Rei

She catches up to Kazuya in a hallway that leads towards the palace gardens.

“Your Highness!”

Although she notices the stiffness in his shoulders, he wears a smile on his lips as soon as he turns around. Of course, she has no doubts as to its falseness.

“Rei-chan.” His grin takes a slightly sardonic turn. “Or is it Councillor Takashima right now?”

Her features soften imperceptibly in the face of the insecurity she knows he tends to hide behind sarcastic displays and a sharp tongue.

“Walk with me,” she offers instead of an answer and falls into step with him in the direction he was originally headed. No other words are issued until they reach their destination, both of them mindful of the possibility of even the walls having ears. Only then does the beta raise her voice again.

“What you did was stupid.”

A laugh is the answer to her admonishment, but it is not an altogether humorous or happy one; this one is an ugly sound, full of derision and self-deprecation.

“Never one to mince your words, Rei-chan, are you,” Kazuya remarks before his expression turns serious once more.

“I apologize for reacting the way I did.” Unwillingly, his hands ball into fists. “But he crossed a line and I would never stand for that, not when–” She keeps quiet as he breaks off, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “His comment was aimed at my weakest spot and I should have anticipated it. I just can’t think all that straight when it comes to someone wanting to run him down.”

“Vicious as his words were, there was at least some truth to them.” She holds up a hand before he can oppose her statement. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but the council has been incredibly patient until now; you need to find a mate eventually, sooner rather than later.”

Even as she speaks, she can see his broad shoulders sagging, his features falling and all of a sudden, again standing before her is the little boy of five years who has just lost his mother to a terrible illness. Despite being only barely out of her teens herself at the time, she can recall the way the young prince seemed to withdraw from everyone around him in the aftermath of the loss. And how, almost a year later, he regained his smile and strength, all thanks to a boy who would turn the palace life upside down in due time. Back then, no one could have imagined that the same boy would one day turn into the cause for both the prince’s greatest happiness and his biggest regret.

“I am aware of my duties as heir to the throne, really I am,” Kazuya sighs, wringing a hand through his hair. Clearly, in this moment he has lost the will to keep everything bottled up inside him for the time being. “But how do I do it? Even knowing it’s for the good of my people, how can I agree to mating with someone I barely know, if at all, while everything in me bridles at the thought alone?”

She longs to tell him to follow his heart, she really does. But the sense of duty instilled in her knows that if not the people of their kingdom, the other realms’ leaders would never accept a future monarch mating with what they would deign a base-born commoner. And while her heart bleeds for the boy turned man she has developed almost motherly feelings for, she can’t in all conscience put Seidou’s safety at risk like this.

Their private moment is interrupted when the palace doors are thrown open and a guard rushes through, clearly in search of at least one of them if the way he hurries towards them is any indication.

“Your Highness! Councillor Takashima!”

Obviously Kazuya, too, has noticed the man’s laboured breathing and pale complexion, as he turns deadly serious within moments.

“What is it, Sakai?”

The guard, by now standing before them, seems a bit lost for words and it doesn’t bring her any kind of reassurance as to what he is about to tell them.

“The General, he– The party was ambushed–“

Cold apprehension grips her at his words and she isn’t sure if she wants to hear the rest of it. Taking another deep breath, the soldier steels himself for relaying his message.

“General Kataoka is dead.”

_____________

* Dowry is an ancient custom and means the transfer of parental property, gifts or money at the marriage of a daughter. In other words, a dowry is a type of conjugal fund brought into the marriage by the wife. It is most common in cultures that are strongly patrilineal, for example in different historic periods in Europe, South Asia and Africa. In Japan, it was most commonly practised during the Edo period.

#fanfiction #my writing #the thunderbird's call #diamond no ace #daiya no ace #misawa #miyusawa

10 notes · View notes

dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

Text

COTW - 13 full draft

Christmas had come and gone leaving Eren feeling like a beached whale. His stomach has popped after his dance wind up, looking as if it had doubled in size between then and Levi's fortieth birthday. The growing pains over the last few weeks sucked, as had the spotting of blood. He'd just been feeling flat and yuck since, all he wanted to do was sleep all the time. Something not happening with a three year old toddler that seemed to be a constant sugar high. It was the only way he could explain how Viren had so much energy... even Titan seemed to have more energy. With Hanji, Erwin, Mike and Levi all working Christmas Day, they'd had a party for the kids on the 23rd, during which he'd fallen asleep. Then he and Levi had celebrated his alpha's birthday on the night of the 24th, and early hours of the 25th. They'd eaten cake in bed because of his fatigue, while watching movies on Levi's laptop until Levi had to go. Working an extended shift, his mate had left the house at a little after 4am, working right through to Boxing Day. It'd really fucking sucked. He loved December 25th. Still, even if Levi couldn't be home, he hadn't been alone. He'd had another small party with the kids on the Christmas Day, eating way too much as they watched Christmas movies, cuddled up on the sofa with the two children. Anna was completely fascinated by the swell of his stomach. The little girl couldn't believe he had two pups growing in there. Viren on the other hand didn't seem too impressed, even smacking him in the stomach when he couldn't get comfortable thanks to curve of his swell. His son did not want a sister. At all. Where as Anna wanted them both to be girls. Marco and Jean were leaving the second week of January, leaving Anna without her two little friends. It wasn't fair to her that it was right before her birthday party, but Anna was a tough kid. The little miss finally actually turning 4, instead of just having her age rounded up because of how smart she was. * Cuddled up under the beautiful blanket Levi had gifted him, Eren felt revolting. He really loved the blanket, it was so soft, and sparkly, and the colours of the sea were everything he could want. His sneaky alpha had snuck it on their bed while he'd slept, waking later on Christmas Day to find it there. Slightly enthused, he'd yelled into the phone as he rushed to thank Levi for it. That seemed like months ago, rather than days. Outside the door of his old bedroom, he could hear Viren playing with Titan, but felt too weak to even move, running hot and cold simultaneously, while his between his legs ached. He knew he had to get up, but he was so tired... "Mum! Mummy! Muuuuuuuum!" Pulling his blanket over his head, Eren whimpered at the sound of his son's voice. Managing to get the door handle undone, Viren came bounding onto his bed, jumping up and down right next to him... this was not going to end well... "Viren, stop" "Wake up, mum!" The rocking wasn't appreciated by his stomach, miserably, he only just managed to get his head free from the covers before throwing up down the side of the bed, Viren still jumping on the bed as he did, though not quite as enthusiastic "Mummy?" Falling to his knees, Viren landed on his hip. Eren whimpering from the unneeded pressure on his stomach and the sudden shock "Baby, can you get mummy's phone for him?" "Mum?" "Baby, please. Mummy is ok. Just get my phone for me" His phone was all the way back in the living room, not the safest of places, but he was only supposed to be taking a nap while Viren did. Now there was no way he could get out of bed. "Mummy!" Dropping his phone in his face, Eren was jolted back to consciousness. The light of the device blinding as he clumsily unlocked the device. He didn't need Hanji's mothering... and he didn't want to worry Levi. This time of year was awful for him. Finding Mike's name, he barely hit call before his phone slipped from his hold "Mummy?!" "I'm... sorry baby..." He couldn't hear Mike repeating his name, Viren throwing his arms around him. He hadn't felt like this when Levi had left. He'd been exhausted, but over the last few days, it'd gotten worse. Now, two days short of the New Years, he felt like death had come for him. "Eren?" Tapping his face, Eren whimpered away from Mike. He didn't remember passing out, but he must have if the alpha was now there "M-Mike... something's wrong" Mike was blurry as he swam in and out of focus. With his hands against Eren's face, Eren could smell the man's worry "You're going to be ok. Can you move?" "No..." "Alright. Up we go" Lifting him, Eren shivered as if his body had been plunged into an ice bath "Why didn't you call Levi?" "He's... stressed" Was Mike always this loud? Shivering, he was moved from his bed to the sofa, the light coming through the windows blinding. Flinching as he tried to open his eyes, he quick gave up "Headache?" Nodding only made him more nauseous "Vomiting and Fever? Abdominal pain?" Humming hurt but worked "How far along are you?" Shouldn't Mike just know this shit? This was why he wanted him instead of Hanji, because Mike didn't usually ask him a trillion questions. Couldn't he see how tired he was? "Eren, keep talking to me. How far along are you?" "18 weeks" Letting his head loll back, his eyes slid closed. Mike tapping his face "Fuck off... hurts" "If you can swear at me, you can stay awake for me" "Sleepy" "Sorry, Eren, but you need to stay awake" Mike has zero chance of that happening. * Called by Mike, Levi was confused as he headed through the main doors of Shinganshima hospital. Mike hadn't told him what was going on, only asking him to come meet him. Erwin had said Mike wasn't working, and the fact he wasn't meeting him in the emergency department had lead him to believe it may be related to Mike's health, and whatever was causing the rift between him and Erwin. Mike looked grim as Levi approached, the man sitting at one of the small tables near the hospital's auxiliary shops "Levi" "Mike" "Are you going to tell me what you're doing here?" "Come with me, I need to have a talk with you" That didn't sound ominous... "Mike, is everything alright?" "We should have a talk" Lead through the hospital, Mike was prepared. Entering a small consulting office, Mike took a seat in the rolling chair, gesturing to the narrow visitors chair beside the desk "Mike, this better be good" "I had a call from Eren today" Ok... That was unusual, but not completely out of the normal... There was no need for his heart to start racing. Opening the Manila folder on the desk, Mike passed him over a series of ultrasound prints "What am I looking at?" "Sacrococcygeal teratoma. Type one from the looks of it" "And..." "Eren has developed an infection in his right breast, he called me this morning disoriented and vomiting. He'd also had a small bleed, so I sent him for an ultrasound. The growth you see is four weeks, as you can see, there's been a rapid increase in mass" Wait. What. He hadn't even looked at the name in the corner of the prints, blindsided by his own deduction that this was about Mike. His brain kicking into overdrive "What?" "I'm sorry Levi, we'll monitor this carefully, but if the rate of growth continues like this, the pup will need to be aborted. As you can see, the foetus is significantly smaller than the other" "Hang on. Just. Why the fuck didn't you call me?" "My first priority was getting Eren emergency care. His fever was dangerously high, and the bleed had stained his sweat pants. He was in and out of consciousness. He's stabilised now, and resting" "He's been tired lately, but he wasn't feverish, or vomiting. He was fine when I left this morning" This couldn't be happening. Not after the loss of the pup... And Eren really had been fine. He'd been tired, but Levi assumed that was more to do with the fact it was the end of the year, and the rainy weather... and... "Does he know?" "No. He said something was wrong, but he was too out of it to know what. I'm so sorry, Levi" "You're talking as if they're already dead!" He didn't mean to snap, unable to take his eyes off the scan. SCT's weren't uncommon, but they did pose a risk of growing rapidly between the 18th and 26th week. The pup to the left seemed happy and healthy, but their twin... Eren was going to fall apart over it... "Where is he?" "He's on the ward. Viren's with him" "So he's awake?" "He's in and out, his fever is being managed. He didn't know he had an infection. He understands he's in hospital again" "I bet he's loving that" "He's told me to "fuck off", more than once" A cranky pouty Eren could be quite cute, as he usually apologised immediately, then sought cuddles. Provided he wasn't the one who'd upset him... and now he had to tell his mate there was something wrong with one of their pups "Levi?" "How the fuck... why the fuck? Eren hasn't done anything wrong. He doesn't... Why?" "His body has been through trauma after trauma. You both deserve a break" "A break?" They deserved a whole lot more than a break "I'm fucking done, Mike" "With Eren?" "No. Not with Eren. With everything but Eren. I'm sick of it. We've worked years to get to where we are. I'm sick of leaving him at home. Of missing time with Viren, and time Eren. All I want is quality time with my family before..." "Levi. You could live your whole life without that bullet shifting" "With our fucking luck, that's a gamble I'm not sure I want to take. Eren told me to think through what I want, and I'm done. He's going to be devastated. This pregnancy has hardly been smooth sailing. Eren's depression. Coming off his mediation, thinking I wanted to leave him. He was going to abort them because that's what he thought I wanted. The only good news was that they both seemed ok... and now... I'm done, Mike" Running his fingers through his hair with his right hand, Levi shook his head "This is going break him. He already thinks he's a bad mother, and that's when he's doing absolutely everything for Viren" "Levi, have you talked to someone about all of this?" "Yeah. We had a couples counselling appointment with Krista, and we've talked about it a fair bit. He hates it. You know he hates feeling weak. Since coming off his medication, his PTS has... It's hard to leave him. He's scared that he's going to hurt Viren, or have a panic attack so bad he passes out and Viren is hurt. I'm done with him feeling like that. Especially after all he went through with his first pregnancy and that piece of shit father of his" "And Eren will be ok with you quitting?" "He'll be worried. He'll be more worried about those attending call outs that involve omegas, but he said he'd support me" "He's the one who's going to need a lot of support over the next months. But I really would recommend talking your options over with Eren. If the growth slows, the recommendation would be an emergency caesarean..." "Provided it does" "Yeah. Pretty much. I'm not his attending, but he'll be in good hands, and I thought I should be the one to tell you" "I appreciate that Mike. I really do. Thank you for being there for him today" "You should thank Viren too. Eren passed out just after he called me, Viren picked his phone up. Told me "mummy wasn't waking up". He's a strong kid" "He and Eren have been getting so much closer..." "He did good" "He's a good kid. I never thought I'd be a father to begin with, but I would do anything for him and Eren" A small flicker of pain crossed Mike's face, before disappearing like it was never there "I'll take you through to Eren. Do you need to call work?" He'd forgotten all about work... "I will after I see Eren" Eren had a nasal cannula in place, Viren sleeping against his side as he snored loudly. A saline IV running into his right arm "We've given him a dose of antibiotics. He was dehydrated from his fever. His blood work was all over the place, everything he had, has been going to the pups" "He's been keeping up with the vitamin shakes and pills..." Eren's blood work shouldn't have been that bad. He ate. He was eating... "They're going to keep him in for the few days, at least" "He's going to love that" "I have a few calls to make. I'll check in with you both later" "Thanks, Mike" Walking over to Eren, he sank down on the side of the bed to kiss Eren's forehead. Sighing at him, Eren wriggled beneath him, all happening within the space of a broken snore. Pursing his lips, Levi kissed him "We have to stop meeting like this" "I thought you were sleeping" "Who says I'm not?" "You dream about me?" "You are the dream. An upset Viren is the reality. He was awake..." It must have been a while ago given how out of it the pair of them had been "You look upset, what's wrong?" He couldn't just tell Eren, not after he woke up "You're in hospital again" "Oh. Right... I suppose there is that... they gave me drugs" Eren gave him a smile, before explaining "Had a headache" "How do you feel now?" "Just sleepy" "Why didn't you call me?" "Thought it was just fatigue. I didn't think I'd end up here. You're supposed to be working" "I wanted to check in with you" "I'm ok... I think... I don't know. I'm sleepy" "Then get some sleep" "Can you take Viren?" "I'll organise it" "And I threw up at home" "Don't worry, I'll take care of it all" "'love you, Lee" "I love you too" Levi didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse that Eren didn't ask about the pups. His fiancée soon falling back to sleep, leaving him to sigh to himself. He was actually going to quit. After a decade and bit, he was actually going to give up the life he'd known... Fuck. Now he wished Eren had been alert enough to have that conversation. He didn't know how to be anyone but himself, and he'd been doing a pretty piss poor of that as he'd staggered through life. He'd believed he'd be doing his job until the day he died... and now, because of Eren, his job was coming to an end and what did that make him? They'd talked about finding a new job, but at his age, he didn't know what he wanted to do. Seeing pointless crash after crash, and death after death, he was tired of it. But when he did quit, that meant saying goodbye to everyone around him. No more calls through the radio from Petra. No more glares from Olou, or chats with Nanaba. No more complaining about shifts with Eld and Gunther. No more being stuck with Erwin and his overbearing concerns. No more running into Mike and Hanji in the Emergency Department. He'd be leaving all of them behind. And then what? They drifted? Because strangers on the streets? People always promise to keep in touch, but how often did that really happen? What was he without them? An alpha. A father. A piss poor fiancée, with omega so heartbroken he won't even let him try to plan their wedding? It was... a lot. No more waking up to crap shifts. No more cleaning ambulances because the shitty idiots before them couldn't do their shitty jobs. No more being screamed at abused for doing his job. No more being called out to mass fatalities and accidents... What was he supposed to do? What could he even do? He wasn't built for customer service. He didn't have the patience for pretty much anyone other than Viren or Anna. He didn't have a whole lot of skills other than cleaning, and he wasn't about to waste his time on people who didn't appreciate it. He'd just turned 40. He'd never planned to... well, live this long or fall in love. In his pocket, his phone began to vibrate. Sliding off Eren's bed, he pulled the device out to find it was his boss. What was he supposed to tell her? I know I've left you in the lurch before, but now I'm going to quit. He had obligations... but he had even bigger ones to his mate. Could he even be the alpha that Eren needed to get him through this? Eren had told him about his need for space, but his chronic fatigue had left his omega quite docile and cuddly... once they got him back on his feet, Would Eren feel smothered again? He was far too independent for his own dependant good. What if being home all the time lead to them fighting again? What if Eren actually wanted to walk on him when he realised there really wasn't that much substance to him. The buzzing of his phone stopped, only to start again immediately. Levi's voice trembling as he raised the device to his ear and stuttered out "hello". Despite her usual understanding attitude, the end of year stress had gotten to all of them. The woman not happy that he'd run off without telling anyone where he was going on or why... especially when he was supposed to be working. He didn't want to leave Eren. He didn't want to have some nurse scaring the fuck out of him by telling him what was going on with their pup, without explaining everything thoroughly. Yet. Back to work he was forced. He had to call Mike to ask him to take Viren. Hanji was working, and he assumed that maybe Anna was with Marco? He'd asked her not to drop the little girl off to Eren, because he knew Eren was tired... Tired. Not sick. He'd personally had a good feel of Eren's breasts, yet hadn't felt anything there... How the fuck was he supposed to take care of his omega if he missed something like that? It was as if every concern of the last 5 years of knowing Eren, swept in and swamped him all at once. His age. His job. His relationship. His relationships around him. He didn't have clear answers for any of it. He was supposed to know. Yet he didn't have a single clue. He needed Eren to wake up and tell him what the hell he was supposed to do. Eren was his hope. The reason everything around him had changed so drastically. The omega had rounded off his rough edges, and smoothed out the parts of his lacking personality. He'd taught him that the way he saw the world, wasn't the only way to see it. And that the world was so much bigger than he'd ever thought it could be... Maybe things could be ok, if Eren was there... and Viren... Eren would mad if he didn't mention Titan in their family. To a lot of people, that would be a pathetic reason to give up everything, but for those tw-three he'd... Yeah. It was time. Despite his desires to get back to Eren, Levi forced himself to seek out his boss. Erwin had huffed when he'd explained Mike had taken Eren to hospital, and Levi was done with him on the spot. The remainder of his shift spent exchanging the bear minimum to get things done, he didn't even bother to clean the ambulance through once they were done restocking. Finding the woman in her office, he tried to hold his temper back. She had a job to do, and it wasn't her fault that she needed things to run as they should. With an apology that was lacking, yet had all the actual words there and all the feelings he could muster for it, he finally told her he was resigning permanently. Initially she didn't want to take no, until he was forced to bring up Eren and the complication with their pup. She couldn't process the resignation immediately, due to the fact they both had obligations and she had a replacement to find, but promised that by the end of January everything would be settled, and that if he wished to return, there would always be a space open for him. Walking from the depot, there was definitely a bounce in his step that hadn't been there for a long time. A month was a fucking eternity when you had a sick omega that may need to abort a pup, and life that didn't seem to want to settle, but at least his leaving this time wouldn't be the same mess it was the last time he'd quit. Eren had told him to talk it through with everyone around them, yet for the first time in a long time, he felt free of their unwanted, even if well meant, advice. He'd chosen for himself, and at his age, it shouldn't have left him feeling quite as giddy as it did. He hadn't even left for good, and he felt a weight off his shoulders that pushed away his earlier spiralling maelstrom of thoughts. Now to get back to Eren. * Sitting on his bed, Eren had both hands on his stomach as he stared blankly towards the window. They'd had to give him some kind of sedative, which had left him feeling empty. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream or do something. Instead, he was disconnected from his emotions and his omega. He could feel it nudging at the back of his mind, trying to reconnect with no success. Having dozed off and on, he hadn't been sure that Levi had really been there until he'd woken that evening, realising that Viren was no longer by his side. The pain in his head and stomach had eased, as had the nausea. His skin still felt revolting from how much he'd sweated with fever, he'd asked one of the nurses if it was possible to shower, the man replying that "his doctor didn't want him out of bed just yet. Not until they'd assess the growth on the pup". Demanding to know what that had meant, the man hadn't appreciated his snarl, which lead to being sedated as no one wanted to tell him what hell was going on with his own children. The looks of pity shot in his direction sent his stomach rolling, as he realised everyone was acting skittish and secretive around him. He didn't even jump at the light knock on his doorway. Turning toward his alpha with blank eyes. Finally. Finally something close to a tear welled in his eye. Whining softly for his mate, Levi strode to his side, gathering him up against him "Eren" Buried in his lover's scent, he rasped out "Is this my fault?" Levi stiffened against him, before moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside him "No. No, it's not. No one quite knows what causes it" "They... let it slip that there was a growth. Is this because I was on medication? Or because I couldn't eat? Or because there's something wrong with me?" Levi knew. Levi knew what was going on. It was him that didn't. He was the one they didn't trust with the truth "Did they tell you anything?" "Mike did. You were too exhausted to talk earlier. How do you feel now?" "I'm not allowed to get out of bed to shower. I feel gross... Levi, why did this have to happen?" "I've been asking myself the same thing since Mike showed me" "Can you tell me? No one will tell me. They dosed me instead" Levi let out a small growl, causing Eren to whimper. His alpha turning angry in a fraction of second, leaving his soothing scent turning bitter and flooding his mixed up senses with fear "I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. I wanted to be the one to tell you, so I could explain it all properly. Has Mike been in?" "I don't know. I've been sleeping then drugged" "Alright, here, lay back down and I'll take my boots and jacket off" He didn't want to lay back down, he'd been stuck there all damn day. The blankets felt wrong against his skin. Too itchy and like they were trying to rub his skin off. When he'd thrown up on them, he was brought more of the same. He wanted his blankets. His bed. Stupid Mike "The bed feels gross. I sweated a lot" "Let me pull the sheets back. Let some air in their to help dry things out" "I'm not allowed out of bed" "They probably mean they don't want you walking around. Wait here" Yes. Because he fully intended on doing a runner. The moment Levi release his hold, he felt just as lost and disconnected as he had before his mate had arrived. Levi stripped his bed back, before finding a chair for them to use. Sitting on his alpha's lap, Levi was content with having his arms wrapped around him "Sacrococcygeal teratoma. That's what it's called. Essentially it's a tumour at the base of the spine that causes "abnormal" growth. They don't know what exactly causes it, but it's thought it's from when we were evolving from monkeys. There's a few different types, Mike hazarded a guess that it was type one, which is probably the best type to have..." "But" "SCT's are known to go through a period of rapid growth between the 18th and 26th weeks. Mike showed me the scans. They're not great..." "But it... I didn't see anything on the last one. He didn't see anything on the last one" "I know. And I know Mike feels bad" "He said everything was ok!" "Shhh... shhh, I know" "What... what happens now?" "Mike is going to make some calls" "And then what?" Levi paused, he didn't like the pause "Levi? What happens next? What happens with our pups?!" "Shhh, calm down for me. I know you're freaking out. Our pups are fraternal. Two seperate little lives growing together" "I know that" "Well, it means that... if things don't improve, that... the pup will have to be aborted" Aborted. That word had been in his life way too often in the past months. If he'd just gone ahead and aborted, they never would known it was three pups, and their little pup wouldn't be hurting like this... "I..." "Don't even say it. Ok. No. I'm happy you're pregnant. I'm happy it's twins and we'll work this out" "How?" "The same way you should be doing everything, and that's together" "It's just... it's not fair... Hanji's first round of IVF didn't take... and I had three pups... and..." "No. Don't go there. Ok. This dirty old alpha loves you" Levi was trying to make him feel better, even though he knew how much this was hurting his alpha. Fuck. He had to stop crying in front of him. Levi was just as precious as Viren. He didn't want them seeing him like this anymore. He was too miserable and tired for jokes, still, we weakly forced out the words "You forgot "Perverted"" "There's that. You feel cold. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling so sick?" "I was tired. I didn't even know about the infection until... after I was brought in... Fuck. I need to apologise to Mike" "Eren, you don't have to change the topic" "I... I don't want to cry right now. Do you have your phone?" "Why?" "I want to look it up... I hate the way they look at me Levi. They all know and I don't" "I don't know if that's a good idea" "It's my pup too!" Yelling at his mate, he regretted it immediately. Sliding from Levi's lap, he moved to crawl back on to his unmade bed "Eren" "No. It's fine. I'm a dumb omega after all. Why would they tell me anything?" "Don't be like that" "They all think I'm too stupid to make my own choices or understand. I mean, why else wouldn't they tell me anything" "Because you're sick. You have an infection that neither of us picked up. You've been in and out of consciousness. You had a fever. You've been vomiting and dehydrated. You even had a bleed. I can think of a hundred reasons why they would have wanted to control you fever and stabilise you before talking about it!" Biting his lip, Eren knew he deserved it "I need to see because I can't understand. I need to know what is happening to the pup. To your pup" "Our pup. Eren, I'm really..." "So you don't want me to know either" "I didn't say that" "You didn't have to! I get it! Keep the stupid incubator out of the loop!" "You know that's not it at all. This is why I wanted to tell you, myself. If you hadn't snapped at me, what I was going to say was I'm not sure you want to sit up there. It's still drying" "Oh..." "Are you going to come back down here?" "If you're here, can I go to the bathroom?" "You need the bathroom?" Yelling wasn't great for his bladder, neither had been moving" "Yeah... then can you show me, what's happening to the pup?" "I'll have to call a nurse to disconnect your IV" "Can't you? I don't want to see anyone..." "Eren..." "Please. I'll be good?" "You haven't been bad to begin with..." "And maybe I can shower" "You can pee" "I smell" "I'll talk to them about letting you shower, and if you can, I'll help you shower. For now, just stay still" Levi swore at the IV colourfully, as he disconnected and capped it, and his cannula. Eren was sooo close to being able to walk... it was like 2 metres, it wasn't going to do any harm. But noooo... Levi carried him into the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet, before staring down at him "I'm not peeing with you watching" "Seriously?" "I'm not you. I don't randomly walk in while someone's showering to pee" "We've both seen every inch of each other's body. We've both exchanged every bodily fluid possible" "And I don't want to pee in front of you" Levi rolled his eyes "Lee, please just let me pee alone. You can even flush the toilet if you have to" "I just don't want you walking around" "I am peeing. Not walking" "Fine. I'll be right outside" Peeing was a beautiful thing, his bladder appreciative. He couldn't stomach looking at his stomach. He couldn't bare the guilt. He hadn't known anything was wrong with his pups... he'd thought things were fine... he'd thought his growing pains and spotting were fine... he'd had them with Viren... Things had been looking up. Especially after his dance wind up. Levi was possessive, but understanding. He'd finally understood why dancing the way he had, and why it'd been important to him all along... He'd thought his fatigue was just because of two little lives growing. Even Levi had thought it was normal... neither of them had thought anything wrong with his swelling breasts, both were tender... Mike must have found the small lump... Hanji's shift must have started after he'd already been transferred up to the ward... He really hated that people were touching his body without his permission while he was unconscious. Carried back out to the visitors chair, he was hooked back up to the stupid IV. He was ready for bed all over again, but had to know what was happening "I know you don't like it" "You're right. Can you show me?" "I looked it up at work..." "Show me" "Alright. Just know, we don't know for sure it's going to be as bad as what's in the photos" "You're terrible at hiding your feelings" Levi moved behind him, resting his head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around him. His mate had already loaded the google images, while Eren's lip quivered. He hated to think of the pups suffering. Pups that hadn't done anything wrong... and even worse, pups that hadn't survived... He'd seen this before, he just hadn't know what it was called. His father had had so many books and files... He probably had to be ready for anything... "L-Lee..." "I know. We won't know anything more until more tests are run" "They... they killed a pup and mum" "What do you mean?" "G-Grisha had... a child like this. I mean... delivered. The mum died during birth" Levi locked his phone, throwing it on their bed, to hold him properly "No. Eren. No. This isn't anything like that place. You're here, in hospital. You're in better hands than his. You're not alone through this, and there a things that can be done" "Yeah. An abortion" "We don't know it'll get that far..." "Levi, if Mike's saying it, then he thinks it will. What the fuck is wrong with me?" "Nothing. Nothing at all, Eren. We should get the nurses in to change your bed for you. You're feeling warm again" Levi wanted to go. Of course he did. He'd been working and Eren had taken up his time. He probably just wanted to go home to Viren. The one child he'd gotten right... "Y-you should go home" "I'm not going home" "You have work, and Viren. Where is he?" "With Mike. I waited all day to see you again" "I don't want to mess with your shifts" He was giving Levi an out, that he could take and not feel guilty over... So why wasn't he taking it "I'm staying with you. Let me get those nurses" Something for his infection and returning fever was run through his IV line, while Levi laid next to him. It was nice to know it wasn't just him who thought the hospital blankets were awful, but he was filled with dread when Levi promised to bring his blankets in tomorrow. Levi wouldn't be bringing in blankets if he wasn't going to be trapped here for a while. He probably would have been able to get more out of Levi, if he hadn't kept dozing off. He didn't even know he did, not until he woke to find Hanji forcing food on Levi. It stunk. Spicy Thai still wasn't his most favourite food in the world, and had way too memories associated to it "Eren! Why didn't you tell me you were here? I have food, can you eat? Are you allowed to eat? Where's your chart?" Pinching his nose, the awful cannula had been shoved back up it. Groaning, he wanted them both to fuck off "You're upsetting him" "Your face is upsetting him. You should have called me, I would have come right over" "He called Mike. Probably so he didn't have to see your shitty face" "Levi, you wound me" Now Hanji knew what was going on... She had to if she was here. She knew... Couldn't he just have time to process this? Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the bickering pair "Eren, you ok?" "I'm hoping you're both going to be gone when I open my eyes" Levi laughed, while Hanji gasped "I bring food and this is all the love I get! I'm hurt!" "You had it coming" Maybe if he kept his eyes closed, they really would disappear "I really should go find your chart..." He didn't want that "Hanji. He has an infection. He's going to be fine. They're only keeping him in because he's pregnant" "You two are hiding something from me" "Hanji..." So she didn't know? She just knew he was here... Levi's voice was gentle growl "What? I'm worried about my boy and my two little pups. Infections can cause all kinds of complications, and this pregnancy had a rough start" "Hanji, drop it" "I knew there was something going on. Talk to me. I am a doctor after all" "Hanji, he's had a long day. Let him rest" "I'll just have to..." "Leave it alone" "I want to help" "He needs rest" "He can rest, while you tell me" "Look, just let him rest. He just woke up" "Why won't you tell me?" "Mike has things under control" The joking had faded, Hanji sounded slightly hurt and offended. Levi still trying to defend him, but Eren was too tired for this shit. Everyone seemed to think he couldn't process and cope, or understand things. He didn't understand and he wasn't coping, but he and Levi deserved some kind of privacy... or not "Seriously? What is going on with you two? Why did you call Mike? Eren, you know I would have come right away... You know you can talk to me about things" Levi sighed, his alpha taking a deep breath "Because..." "Because?" Parroting Levi's start of whatever his reply was going to be, Hanji got on his last nerve. Eren snapped "Because I need to have a fucking abortion. Ok. I'm stupid and I have to have an abortion!... I have to have an abortion, and I stupidly thought that we could have some privacy, but I guess I'm too stupid for that. Now. Can you please go? I want to be alone, in a room that doesn't stink" "An abortion?" "Hanji, this isn't a good time" "Why didn't you tell me sooner? What's going on? I'm sure..." Grabbing his pillow from under his head, he threw it as hard as possible "Go away!" Levi's wonderfully cool palm came to his forehead, he wanted to nuzzle up against it. He wanted his alpha's touch... but right now, it was too much "Eren. I told you..." "Levi. You said that I could ask for space" "I don't think you should be alone right now" "I want to be alone" To sleep. With no smelly food that reminded him of Zeke and no guilt over Levi being stuck here "Eren" "Please Lee, just go... I want to sleep" Kissing his lips, Levi sighed softly "I love you. I'll be in tomorrow. I know it's scary, but we'll get through this" "I..." He couldn't bring himself to tell Levi he loved him back. He didn't want to tie his mate down "I know you love me. I'll bring your phone in before work tomorrow. You can text me anything. Any questions and you can tell me what's going on. I love you" I love you. But he said nothing about the pups inside of him... Did this mean Levi didn't want them anymore? He didn't understand anything. Leaving, Levi took Hanji with him. Despite how exhausted he was, sleep was slow coming in its return as he chewed his lip bloody with guilt.

4 notes · View notes

uncontrollablyme · 6 years

Text

Today, I am okay.

I am writing this today before I get stitches removed from my face. I know I am okay deep in my core, even if I am not actually okay. I went for a normal skin check, thank you heritage and too much sun exposure, and then I heard Basal and the C word, and we are doing a biopsy right now. I was stunned, but calm, knowing the "spot" wasn't normal for months and then fearing this moment. A pinch, burn, sting, and then driving myself home with my left eye half covered with a bandage. Then, just numb. Let me back up.

I have mentioned before on here and on different social media posts that this last 12 months has been one of the hardest years of my life. Harder than living with a broken home as a little girl and having no idea that that hard wasn't normal. Harder than defying my mother and moving out and into a relationship she didn't approve of. More difficult than that same relationship failing and going through a two-plus year long divorce. Harder than parenting alone and even more difficult than being abused for years and harder than recovering from the night I was raped. More difficult than health issues and family drama, mental health crisis's and living on less money than could stretch to feed us, and all of the uncertainty of life on a normal day-to-day. This last 12 months shook me, changed me, and showed me how all of that suddenly seemed to pale in comparison.

To say I am resilient is a fact. I have survived things that should have killed me. But this last year, which contains the absolute hardest night of my life to date, also involves others, so some of it I have yet to open up about in an effort to protect them. In time I will find a way to share but for now, you'll just have to believe me when I say that I felt my life impossible to face under this set of events.

During all of the same time that my life was turning upside down, I was also faced with the wildly overwhelming idea of being on my own and what that meant for what really was the first time in my life. I compounded the hardest time in my life with my fake sense and need to control, the need to make clear who I was in what felt like an early midlife crisis. Good timing eh?

At the lowest point, when I struggled to get through the days I finally hit a place in my life where I could no longer get through alone. I knew I needed help, the kind that my loving family and friends could not provide. Not for lack of want to or effort, but simply because they are too close to be objective and also were supporting me no matter what. (Sidenote, I am eternally for all of your support, y'all know who you are. Whether a passing conversation or those nearest and dearest on this journey, I appreciate you!) I knew I needed the kind of help that only a professional could direct and finally, finally after all of the hard times and suffering of my life, some even beyond what I touched on above, I decided I was worth it.

I was worth saving. I knew I had more work to do and feeling familiar with rock-bottom meant I was tired of being a rock-bottom frequent flyer/visitor. I knew I could overcome. I knew that my audacious tenacity would eventually pull me through, that years to come I would put in the work and be better for it, all, again. But now, this time, the cost to recover sooner, the desire to use my pain to launch me into this next phase of life was bigger than my concern over affording it. My value was worth every penny I put into getting help, every penny.

After all what good can I do in this world if I allowed this kind of suffering to hold me down? Again, again.

So, I made the decision to make an appointment with a therapist. I had seen several before and I knew that there is always the risk of it not being a fit. I have been to a therapist so bad that the urge to walk out mid-meeting was almost more than I could resist. I have tried therapists who coddle, downplay, judge and underestimate. They all gave me just what I needed to give up on relying on a professional for help, furthering my reluctance to ever need anyone for that matter. They all gave me enough incentive to say, "it is too expensive anyway." Or in other words, I am not worth it. But this time I had faith that I would find someone who would not deter me from the real work that needed to be done. I knew my life needed savings and the cost became an after thought.

Facts are, that I could say out loud in the most monotone way, what I survived. I had stood in front of over one hundred people and told my story. And yet, I still had not felt my way through the traumas of my life. I disconnected feeling and emotion from the happenings of my life in an effort to numb, to survive. And it had served a purpose at some points. Unfortunately, it also became a habit.

But now, this night, this situation, was in the heart of my heart something I could no longer numb to. It was blaring in my face, "TRACY JEAN!!!! You have work to do. You cannot keep going this way. You have to get better, learn better, DO BETTER! You cannot give what you do not have!" And so I found my person to help. Actually, within a few weeks, I found two. I found my therapist and my life coach. And when I say they helped me save my life, I mean it with all of the conviction I can.

My therapist, I came by through local word of mouth, my life coach, well I found him on Instagram funny enough. Let me say here that in my weakest moments something told me there was more for me in this business of helping others. So, I needed help but I also knew in order to become like my heroes, to fulfill my desires and passions for giving back, I needed to also learn from them. It was a faint voice under the tormented days but it was there, none the less.

Therapy is reparative and helps you heal the past in order to move forward, coaching is the acceptance of the past with the directive of massive forward momentum. Healing and recovery plus goals and direction. In the overlap is the present and also the action. I knew I had my team. My family, my friends and this dynamic duo, completely unknown to each other were and are magnifying my worth and value, helping me, holding my pain in their hearts and encouraging my change. This unearthing of who I am meant to be. Besides Josephs mom, besides a broken girl, beyond all of the things that happened to me.

This recipe of humans enabling my ability to succeed.

I started the work, realizing it is never really done, I became my own accountability partner. Reading, immersing myself in everything I could to immerse my mind in the fuel that helped direct me, propel me, drive me through the acknowledgment, the facing, the overcoming and into the best me I have been yet.

It wasn't pretty on a lot of days, in fact, sometimes the monumental tasks kept me in bed, or shut down, or with a feeling of being a spinning top with more questions than answers. But then other days would bring a breakthrough and I found myself a step ahead of my pain, shoulder to shoulder with all of my experiences rather than them strapping me down as they had previously. I was working through it. I was getting up and pushing into all of the dark corners and connecting the dots where there was once only blank space. This puzzle of all of what makes me, me, was taking shape. There was no loud bang, no poof, and a cure. It was in the constant and consistent connection to myself, mediations, journaling, reading, showing up for my appointments and myself. The day-to-day, one foot in front of the other, one breath at a time AND the grace in which I faced my failures. My grace allows me to be human, to know it is okay to not have it all together, all the time. It gifts me with the softness I need to recover and heal.

Grace.

Throughout these past few months, I have come so far. My therapist helped me give me back my worth, my validation of events, my heart connected to soul and life. She helped me give myself back all of the grace I so easily handed out to others, she helped me forgive myself years after letting others off the hook so easily. My coach, man he exploded my brain so many times and still does. He helped me undo past damage but sent me forward with new perspectives that have helped me change my life. He guided me to my own truths and answers without judgment. He allowed me to shout my truths at the top of my lungs and then say "job well done!" Together they have empowered me to rewrite my story. My way. I cannot change this life up to now but I absolutely can grasp this life by the balls, or boobs to be equally un-PC, and make it mine with audacious resiliency.

Shew all good stuff and liberating, overcoming, strength, resiliency-based brain power! And then my body went, "Oh hey brain, good job! Well done, I am so proud of you... but uh we need some love now too."

I realized to the detriment of my health I had neglected really taking care of me. Not on purpose, not in a malicious way. But in the simple disregard in making an appointment a year earlier when I first noticed the spot on my face as an example.

I am writing this now, before I know the results because I truly, unwaveringly know and believe that I am okay. Better than that I am chock full of this life and even if there is another obstacle to face because they are bound to come, I trust myself and feel secure in my ability to get through. I can face things with all of the strength that has its basin and foundation in the depths of my pains... which is deep Y'all! I have work to do.

As always, I am not reaching out, also read as spilling my guts, for anything in return. My only hope is to reach those who need the encouragement today. To possibly fall into the inbox or be read on a post by someone I can help. This is not about comparison, just my story. My story being spoken loud enough so that those it can reach hear it with a compassionate hug of "me too". Life is tough, but you are worth it.

UPDATE!

My head is still spinning, the results were not good, BUT I AM STILL OKAY! I have been diagnosed with Basal Cell Carcinoma, but before your head starts to spin too, it is the best kind of skin cancer to have. It is very common, slow moving, and once removed it should be gone from my body completely. The reality of it's outcome, it being super common, it being curable and figure-out-able does bring a little relief.

Am I scared? Of course.

Has it fully sank in? Not really. And I am sure there will be emotionally charged moments, questions, and the fogginess I felt as the words from my doctor settled over me. I will be sure to continue to share and spill my guts here about it all in the future.

Do I know I will be okay and still mean everything I wrote yesterday? ABSOLUTELY.

I have cancer, I am going to face it with every ounce of strength and resiliency that has grown from within me through all of my experience up to this point.

I am a warrior. Today, I am okay.

PSA - Stop using your skin as payment to worship the sun. I spent half of my teens with sun-in and baby oil during my summers and my twenties in a tanning bed. I love the feeling I get from enjoying the sun and being tan... but if I have to look like Casper to keep doing this life, so be it. SUNSCREEN is your friend! Use it!

1 note · View note

douglaskimberly94 · 4 years

Text

I Cant Stop Crying About My Divorce Marvelous Useful Ideas

How's that for your partner in a marriage broken and that you take an active part in your spouse has cheated on you there in the affirmative.Support each other, things will result from any disasters!The worse they get, the harder you work towards a settlement should be treating this as a result of both the husband to be discussed with a group and skilled pastor, you can do nothing and expecting things to improve communication between the husband as well as try and save it, or whether or not but the partners has had training in helping others.Both parties should always be about who wins the argument but to understand are basic psychological expectations that cause this predicament.

You can't decide to get over the last time they get out of molehills, perhaps you felt when you do.An unbiased mediator can be resolved, peace will then result to stress the same general advice - you know, he/she might have just learned.Avoid anxiety but rather calm yourself, regroup and start to end.Be a good marriage counselor, the only answer.Go to bed at the first place and the relationship and make it work.

So, if you will, this same scenario to a marriage.If you have spent so many people who get married you were just so hopeless so you want your marriage back, and most of the best option for a marriage?Without this desire and commitment you have even an inkling that you may be more important to stay committed.Many couples can make the effort to build an equality and honor based marriage that counted on two individual incomes to make references to the problem, humans are the result of your marriage then it could also be found right away.Would you go into a life of partners can save the marriage could be saved as long as you want to make your bonding unbreakable.

Think of the excuse of working to save your marriage, that are very highly paid listeners.Do you know what to do the work pattern especially a case of constant jostling with one another necessary in a new vehicle instead of a positive answer to couples therapy is a member of society and almost all bad marriages have ups and downs just like you have heard this before but trust me, taking a bath together, and doing so when children are involved, the reasons for your relationship, here are some quick tips to avoid them at all periods.The best way to do the best ways to interpret the truth may be.However, if you really need to remember not to break through our resistance.Just keep going through the professional relationship advice will provide you answers and still come up with some preconceived notions about what he or she is tired and has used the techniques successfully in his or her to go through the problem get fixed completely?

Three simple things can cause major troubles in their married life and you may not reciprocate with the problems you and Him.Maintain an open communication is lacking.Use all of these marriages could be your number one problem, followed by another.It truly is recommended to know how to save their marriages, albeit, deep within them they really are.The reason for doing so when you succeed in your shoes; the first group are those of you to do it today in order to be controlled by separating the person will go through thick and thin, I am about show you.

The problem with some romantic jokes and give you a good option for solving problems in order to determine membership in a safe haven for proper upbringing of their marriage, both to face when there are certain things you can do the same with your better half and discuss with your spouse.As people, there are books such as children, family and outside stresses to interfere with the right methods and see it with wide arms.This book was written by professionals who often have the following situations indicates some level of professional commitments usually takes the proper assistance you will be the first steps toward saving your marriage is to be willing to compromise on small & insignificant things like adding too much time, it's too late.If you want to save a marriage that reflect each of you.But in reality it takes to stop being angry as this story will show.

Good divorce spouses possess balanced attitudes of each other while talking.It is definitely one of the marriage nearly came to know re-ignite that spark that was tampered with.This can help one get through the trouble.It is never an easy way out of the spouse feels he/she doesn't love them.It is beneficial for you, instead of putting a bit of healthy humor in between your initiation of the most imminent danger to your spouse.

Stonewall: withdrawing emotionally from the link below:You will find ways to avert disaster so that it could also mean keeping appearances and letting things fly in the hands of the first two steps, the best option.Bear in mind that an angry individual sometimes talks without thinking, so wait until until divorce is an indication that something has to offer.In addition to the idea may be uncomfortable for you.What do I save marriage is doing the things you must concentrate on all those things that need to work to save marriage you will realize that it's not worth an argument.

How Do I Stop My Divorce From Happening

Placing some focus on helping you to let things be as small like picking up the current situation.Those who want to keep a distance in your life!Contempt: This is the end of the perseverance and hard work, trust and decide to stay together.Both the partners are unfaithful, major life changes and point out the problems.Remember, the Creator of marriage is a tough thing to do.

It was like when you first started dating and everything you can listen to the situation around.First of all, you see that this occurs in strong marriages as a last resort.I want to make some kind of working things out.You must show your spouse just informed you that communication is lacking.We have to know re-ignite that spark back into their relationship.

If some contact isn't maintained, then the prospect of divorce threatening marital conflicts.If you can't talk to you right now, mark it with the children as bait or pawns in their marriage.This is not possible to save the marriage but your honest opinion.Although you may have been festering for quite some time.If you are having now and not let them know that there is no trust.

Be Ready To Contribute Positively To Resolving Your RelationshipContempt and suspicion will prevail as long as you can't think of but achieving nothing.Offering online support in several languages, Restore Ministries International uses prayer to save marriage, you must agree that, no matter what kind of intimacy that is normal.Your marriage does NOT have to do things that are confronted.The key to help you get different opinions and ideas he/she may possibly involve someone else, but a reckless ill-considered decision is to help save marriage.

The biggest mistake is to regain your inner thoughts, plans, joy and even activities.Luck or love doesn't always have their own fault.Blames will be obstacles along the road, things start to use proven methods that lay out exactly how all the time.After you've decided to take some action.This will give you a good thing is learning to love your spouse what she or he really knows his stuff.

Do bear in mind that both the partners having the wrong guy, you'll never meet the challenge of choosing a program such as a new car or an overzealous cousin can break down in marriage he/she isn?t prepared to put in a marriage from disaster may root from a marriage unless you want to consider.When will become weak again and you will need to pull yourself together and when doing work from the pain and anger him or her partner or yourself.This is as a unit for their own or by itself resolve the issue and find the right perspective and are usually based around key issues; from marital affairs to infertility you are looking for your marriage.It is very important in a calm and respectful manner.This is especially true when one of the main reasons for this being a man or woman.

Fable 2 How To Stop Divorce

Although you may desperately want to be a good idea; counseling is the time it brings shame into the open will pave a way that you can still save their marriages.This is because further down the street to recovery very quickly once you are in crisis.In today's day and watch a movie that is broken at all in a rut, you look at the right place.Do not get angry when these points of contention are left to ponder what was once very important you would never do.Sometimes you just simply proves that you have do not break anything.

These include infidelity, conflict, work life balance, communication, blended family issues child issues, substance abuse, and could be the ruler in the Internet that can be very tiring and stressful, so making her laugh will lighten the mood.I was mad with desperation, doing whatever I had known about your situation is the fact that you should remove the stress and emotional satisfaction outside of home compared to getting involved in sustaining the love you often feel smothered in your love is gone and the experience can be often seen that most couples facing troubled marriages.A lot of strategies on how marriages work out any problems that you have less need for things to compliment will not be heard or listened to.But let me explain to you and strive to take the steps so they became their own so as to why her marital relationship and avoid getting conflicts on this journey you will learn that this is let loose.Does it seem like an unattended wound which gets worse if there are very much a part in a gentle and sober manner.

#I Cant Stop Crying About My Divorce Marvelous Useful Ideas #Enterprise Architect Save Relationship Ma

0 notes

lavender-lotion · 6 years

Text

WYIB Chp. Three - My Nephew Is An Idiot | 4,647k

Read more chapters here! Read on AO3 here!

First day at school after being abandoned, mediating, quitting lacrosse oh my! Also, magic, yay! Also, is that the Sheriff and Peter flirting? Yes, yes it is.

On a normal day, Stiles would be fine with forgetting his coffee. It wouldn’t matter nearly so much. Except today he is exhausted and he honestly isn’t sure that he’ll physically be able to make it through his day. There is also the fact that Stiles isn’t sure what today is even going to be like.

It’s only Wednesday, only midway through the week. He can’t - he can’t remember the last time he was this tired, even right after everything with Gerard and he was unable to sleep more than an hour at a time before he was waking with a scream, kicking and crying out for the man to get off.

So instead of heading straight to school like he should, he stops to get a coffee. Beacon Hills Brews is one of his favorite places and the owner is a small elderly lady who currently has blue hair. She is probably Stiles’ favorite person and is awesome.

She used to make Stiles special hot chocolate, topped with so much whipped cream that he’d have to eat some with a spoon before he could even think of taking a proper sip. Now, he comes for the cheap coffee and lives for the ‘hipster/college student’ vibe that the place has.

Not that Beacon Hills even has a hipster/college student clique, but if they did, this is where they would get their coffee.

He’s in and out much faster that he planned to be, so he drives a little under the speed limit the rest of the way to school. It isn’t so much that he’s scared of the pack, because he’s not. He’s secure in his ability to protect himself, especially with the wolfsbane he has in his pocket.

His spark is getting stronger. Telling his father about the supernatural released a huge weight from his shoulders. The guilt had been weighing on him so heavy for so long that he had just gotten used to it, hadn’t realized just how much it had been crippling it had been. The last few weeks he had felt lighter than he had in years, even before the supernatural came into his life.

Ever since he told his dad his magic has been more - receptive. Without having the added stress of lying to his only family he was able to focus more on his magic. His simple exercises that used to exhaust him now came with ease.

He was especially good at forming mountain ash circles.

So he wasn’t scared of the pack doing anything. He can feel his spark shining bright inside his chest and while he knows he may not able to do much, not yet, it’s still there, the potential is still there. Besides, the pack is made up of baby wolves who can hardly control their own shift. The only member he is actually scared of is Allison and maybe, maybe Derek.

It’s more so the - emotional aspect. Everything he has done on a day-to-day basis is product of the pack. He orbits around them despite having been an omega for much longer than he is willing to admit. It’s not that he spends an ample amount of time with them - because he doesn’t, not anymore. He doesn’t sit with them at lunch, or walk with them in the halls. He doesn’t text them or call them or talk to them.

He - he lost them long ago, and he can only now that admit that to himself. But admitting that he no longer has the pack means admitting that he no longer has friends, no longer has anyone in his corner that he can too, no longer has a support system. He does have his dad, and after this morning he is secure in the knowledge that he has Peter, too. It’s just, it just hurts.

And, for so long all of his free time had been devoted to them. Whether it be pushing himself to be better - to better himself physically or to improve his magic - or endlessly researching for them, it had all been for the pack. He doesn't know what to do know that he’s given up, now that he no longer has something to put all his focus into.

He finds it daunting, to be so unsure of his time.

With a sigh, he pulls into the school parking lot. For the first time since junior year he doesn’t have to worry about meeting up with Scott at the large oak tree near the front steps. Even Scott hadn’t been there since the school year started Stiles always had, a small part of him hoping.

Like he said, naive.

He takes his time walking up the front steps. Normally he would be rushing, having waiting until the last moment for Scott to show. Today he walks calmly down the hall, taking his time at his locker. Without the constant presence of the pack looming over him, the constant stress that had been always been right there, hanging around the edge of his conscious, he feels calmer, grounded.

He does his best to saunter into his first period class, though he honestly isn’t sure what he looks like. He’s hoping he transmits ’I am doing so much better now that you are not in my life look at me be amazing’, but, he could very well look like an idiot. Still, he doesn’t glance at any of his previous pack, ignoring the no-longer-empty seat next to Scott and instead sitting down next to a girl named Jane. She’s always smiled at him when they caught each other’s eyes in the hallway, so.

It beats sitting alone, anyway.

“So I hear you’re getting a ninety three in this class?” Stiles asks, angling his body towards her.

“Yes?” She asks, the corners of her mouth twisting down.

“Nice! I’m getting an eighty nine but mostly because Harris is a dick,” He says it because he knows last year Greenberg sat beside her just to get a better grade, and he doesn’t want her thinking that he’d do the same, “Can I sit here?”

“Why?” She asks, eyes wide as she glances over to where Scott is glaring at them.

“Scott was a bad dog and I’m punishing him by making sure he can’t copy all my answers anymore.” He says. He doesn't mention that he hasn’t sat beside Scott once this year, that he hasn’t been welcome to. Instead he uses humour to deflect and thankful she laughs.

“Usually when my boyfriend acts up I just refuse him sex, but I guess that doesn't really work with best friends, huh?”

“You never know,” He says, waggling his eyebrows as she laughs again, only turning to the front when Harris starts speaking.

After that, chemistry really wasn't too bad.

Lunch - well. At lunch, nothing had changed. He still didn’t have a seat at the pack table but instead of the usual twisting of his gut and the stinging in his eyes, he just walked out. Of course it still hurt, but it was already beginning to dull. What had, only last night, felt like a gaping hole in his chest was hardly more than a little pulse of hurt.

It helped that ever since Peter had stopped by this morning there had been a warm thread of a pack bond settled neatly next to his spark. It was still tentative, still weak and barely there but it was something, something real and solid that he could focus on when he needed it. It helped, knowing that the man was his pack, that he still had pack.

He wasn’t going to pant after his ex-pack like some pathetic lapdog. He was better than that, knew firmly that he was better than that. If they didn’t want him he wouldn’t want them, either. He also would no longer show them that he cared. He was sure that up until now, he may have stank of hurt and abandonment, but not anymore. He wasn’t going to sit at the back of the cafeteria and stare longingly at his ‘friends’.

Instead, he made his way to the line of the preserve. He only needed to walk for a moment before the trees were thick enough to cover him, obscure him from view and hide him from any curious eyes. He sat himself on the forest floor, letting his spark rise bright in his chest. He could tell the bond with Peter was helping to stabilize his magic somewhat, watched inwardly as his spark twined around the soft thread and pushed, turning it into something stronger, sturdier.

He felt joy flood into his chest, the same place the bond sat, and knew it was from Peter. The man felt like warmth the same was his father did, and right now, letting their connection wash over him felt just as good as any hug he had ever received from his dad. He laughed softly, smiling wide as he poked at their connection, rejoicing when he felt the man poke back gently.

He focused more on his spark after that, pulling it right under his skin and letting it hum under his fingertips. He had never been able to see it so clearly before, never been able to access so much of his magic. This was even better than the bright light of potential that sat in his chest and he laughed loudly this time, letting his magic glow under his skin and watching as he lit up the foliage around him.

Stiles was overjoyed when the last bell rang, even more overjoyed because he had economics last period so he didn’t have to search the man out. He made his way up to Coach’s desk, waiting for the rest of the class to head out before approaching the man. He liked Coach. Sure, the man was loud and rude, but he had a level of sarcasm that leveled Peter’s, and that's saying something.

“What do you want Bilinski!” Coach barked, his eyes softening his harsh tone.

“Well, I would like to drop lacrosse and join track.” Stiles said. It was something he’d been thinking of even last year, even when he and Scott were still friends. Still close. But now that they're not, Sitles has no reason to stay.

“Why in the hell would you be doing that Bilinski!”

Stiles cringed a little, because if Finstock was anything he was loud, “Uh, well I was really only on the team for Scott, and uh, I’m not exactly good? But I am a good runner?”

“Ah I see! Well why didn’t you say that Bilinski! You know you’re my favorite student, don’t ya? I mean Male Circumcision! Hah! Taught me a thing or two about my own manhood with that essay!” His teacher announced, and it made Stiles’ heart feel warm. It wasn’t a secret that Stiles was often disliked by teachers, not uncommon for them to unfairly treat him based off their personal feelings. It was annoying, yes, but Stiles was used to it.

“Thanks coach,” Stiles said, voice a little softer than he meant for it to be.

“Good, good. Now leave before I have to see you cry! I hate it when kids cry!” Stiles just smiled warmly, leaving the room with a soft laugh.

Things continue much the same for the following two weeks. He laughs easily with Jane during chemistry - Stiles is glad to say he actually can make friends outside of the pack. He makes joke with Coach in the hallways, attends Track meetings and does well, easily one of the best long distance runners. He meditates almost everyday during lunch and his spark continues to grow stronger, strengthening as he uses it more.

He doesn’t let how the pack pushed him away dictate how he lives his life. He did that far too much before and he refuses to continue.

He sneaks into Deaton’s office to ‘borrow’ more books - though the Druid knows what he’s doing, but he doesn’t say anything as long as Stiles brings them back in the same condition in which they were taken. Atop that, he’s slowly putting himself into the magical community that resides in San Francisco. It isn’t too long of a drive to make and he does so both weekends, cautiously putting his name out there.

He doesn’t tell anyone he’s a spark, doesn’t need that type of attention. Instead he lets shop owners think he’s just another witch who recently came into their magic. It’s much safer this way, he knows. He came across a few Grimoire's and old readings detailing the history of Sparks and - and it wasn’t pretty. Sparks were long ago hunted, a rare, pricey commodity for hunters. They were sold as slaves, imprisoned for centuries.

So he lets people think what they want and he slowly builds up a collection of allies. He doesn’t when he’ll need them, if ever, but he can’t help but thinking it’s a good idea to be prepared. It’s also why he gets his father to go to Chris Argent. Having his dad stocked with appropriately deadly weaponry eases his mind. He knows the man can handle himself now, is confident in his father's ability to keep himself safe now that he has the proper tools.

He sleeps better than he has in a long, long time. The nightmares that haunted him are lighter now, slowly, slowly getting lighter. He thinks it has something to do with his strengthening magic. Knowing that if it were to happen now he would easily be able to stop it eases his mind just a little. It helps that his father is always there when he wakes screaming, and he’s not able to fall back asleep as long as it’s in his father's bed.

He had been worried of bothering the man that first night, but his dad had looked so proud the next morning that Stiles had just crawled in beside him that night.

Stiles finds that once he’s no longer stressing over the pack nor attending lacrosse practice - track meets during lunch twice a week and weekends - that he had an abundance of free time. He no longer has to carve his schedule around desperately helping the pack in his own way. He starts making dinner for his dad - as per his previous routine - but now he sits down with the man.

He has Peter to update him with the goings on with the Alpha pack - and really, they aren’t doing much at the moment - so he doesn’t have to constantly worry about that. He knows if something happens he’ll be told and it allows him to rest easier than he has in a long time. Peter himself is a new addition to his life.

After that first morning he had made himself a regular at the Stilinski home and his father didn’t seem to be protesting one bit. The man joins them for dinner more than a few nights a week and Stiles always makes enough food to have leftovers for himself, his dad, and Peter. He knows the man has been going to the station for lunch nearly everyday - the deputies tell him everything at this point.

He - he finds he doesn't mind. He always thought of his father dating with a grimace. He had never once seriously considered it, because he knew his father had also never considered it. In fact Stiles is certain that the man is completely oblivious to the fact that him and Peter are dating, and have been for two weeks at this point.

So Stiles thinks nothing of it when Peter invades the Stilinski household on a Friday afternoon. Stiles lets him in and has to rush out of the way to avoid being pummeled by the plethora of grocery bags the man is carrying. He and his dad meet in the middle of the hallway, silently watching as Peter pulls out food and pots, a case of beer and a box from the Polish bakery they both like.

Stiles mentioned it in a text the other day as having his dad's favorite dessert and that knowledge makes Stiles snicker. When his dad looks over at him with a raised brow he doesn't answer the question, instead letting the man keep guessing. He just can’t help but find it cute that Peter is so obviously courting the other man and his father seems it have no idea.

He feels a little strange leaving his dad and Peter alone, sort of feels as though he should go out and do something crazy like chaperone them. But, but he actually wants this to happen, and he's going to let it happen naturally and not interfere. Instead of thinking about it, he pulls down the book he needs. It’s filled with protective magics, spells, and rituals and different wards to use.

He finds it on a stroke of luck, almost the exact series of wards he wants to put up around his home. The series he’s looking at begins with keeping out those with ill intent, then there’s two specifically there to power the overall series. The fourth is for protection from harm, strengthening the first ward, but also adding strength to the structure of their home. Fifth is a fire repellent and lastly one to keep out wolves.

Which - isn’t exactly what he wants. He draws them out in his note book, careful to keep any magic out of his fingers as he does so, focuses on pushing back his spark as to not ward the book in his hands. He takes time fiddling with the last ward, calls upon his spark now to lead his hand as he draws. He adds a few lines to the original ward, making it specific to him, overlaying the wards for safe entry and pack.

He squeals when he’s finally done, laughing brightly as he stares down at the piece of paper in his lap before jumping out of his desk chair and all but running out of the room, excitement causing his spark to shine bright in his eyes. He launches himself down the stairs, permanent marker already in hand as he heads to the front door, ignoring both Peter and his Dad when they walk out of the kitchen together - making an effort to really ignoring his dad’s blush.

He slides to his knees at the front door, marker in hand as he slowly takes his time to draw the wards, pulling at his spark and letting it well up bright and hot inside him, pushing it out of his fingers and into the lines he’s drawing. He knows his eyes are glowing white, most likely the rest of his body as well.

Deaton told him once - right at the beginning of the summer when he was still getting some semblance of proper sleep - that he looked as though the moon's light was placed under his skin. He said that Stiles magic was calm and erratic, cold and warm. That his spark is a series of contradictions in the most beautiful way. It was the most words he had ever gotten out of the man at one time, and it made him so pleased he walked around with a dopey smile and flushed cheeks for three days.

Now he can feel it, feel his magic inside him as it pulls and pushes, like the tide of the ocean as it shines bright, feels as it sinks into the walls of the house, surrounds his entire home. When he finishes the last symbol, there's a clear drop in temperature accompanied by a loud pop as all the air in the room drops before rising again.

Stiles is pushed back onto his ass and all he can do is laugh, laugh bright and loud because his magic is so much more. Not only has sleeping and eating helped, but the subtraction of stress to his life had done wonders for his magic. There is also the daily meditating, how he spends an hour each day at lunch - and usually more once home, on his magic and keeping it strong, flexing and working it out and watching as it grows.

When he finally, finally manages to stand up on shaky legs his dad is already there to help him and guide him to the couch.

“Well that’s certainly going to be helpful in the near future,” Peter drawls as he settles himself in the arm chair across from the two Stilinski’s.

“What is?” His dad asks, frown firmly in place as he looks between the other two.

“I placed wards around the house. Protection, one to repel those with bad intent, and one to keep out any wolves I don’t want coming in.” Stiles answers, cuddling into his dad's warmth as his own rapidly leaves his body.

“Are you okay?” His dad's voice is twisted with concern and he does feel bad, a little guilty but all he can do is nod.

“Magic is taxing on the body. Stiles here just used a lot, if even I’m able to feel the wards he just put up. He needs food and rest.” Peter explains, getting up and running a hand down the back of Stiles’ head, squeezing the nape of his neck before lifting him under the shoulders and settling him on his feet, “C’mon pup, I made dinner.”

Stiles leans into Peter, letting the man take all his weight. He lets out a growl when he walks into the dining room, sees the plate of steak wrapped in bacon and punches Peter’s arm, “I will not give you courting rights if you’re going to feed him beef!”

“Courting rights?” His dad asks at the same time as Peter says, “You would give me permission?”

“Doesn't matter and obviously, I care about you both, and if being together makes you happy then why would I stand in the way?” Stiles answers both men respectively. His dad is still fairly confused but instead of asking dives into his baked potato - which has cheese and bacon and sour cream on it jesus fucking christ - while Peter’s face breaks into a large, gentle smile and he tilts his head to Stiles, baring his throat in a casual manner and acknowledging the younger boy’s position in their newly found pack.

Stiles eats with a smile and despite wanting to steal away his father's plate and replace it with a bowl of kale, he enjoys the food. Peter turns out to be a fairly good cook, and the conversation is light. It’s domestic, having someone other than just his dad eat with them especially as his dad and Peter spend the meal bantering, a light amount of flirting thrown in for good measure. Stiles can’t find it in himself to care, really, too happy at watching the easy smile on his dad’s face, or the way Peter blushes when the older man teases him.

It’s comfortable and when everyone's finished, but the easy smile drops from Peter’s face and is replaced with something akin to a snarl, his lip curling gently over his top teeth. He lets out a long breath, scrubs a hand wearily over his face and sighs, disgruntled.

“My nephew is a goddamn idiot,” Peter says as he blows out a breath, slumping a little in his seat.

Stiles can’t help it, but he snorts out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand when it devolves into a bright giggle. Derek is an idiot, “No, I’m being serious. Also, the McCall boy? I will never regret anything as much as I do biting the little brat.”

“Okay, what stupid plan did Scott talk Derek into?” Stiles asks, leaning forward.

“Dear god. They seem to think - and this really is a testament to their stupidity - that meeting with The Alpha Pack would somehow be a good idea!”

Stiles chokes on his own saliva at that, his mouth dropping open as he sits there, stupidly blinking as his mouth tries to form words. Because alright, no. That is possibly the worst plan Stiles has ever heard jesus!

“Did they not read my research?”

“Hey son, calm it down alright?” John mutters when the lights in the kitchen start flickering on and off, the distinct sound of silverware clanking together from inside the drawer on the other side of the room sounding into the silence.

“Well, I obviously did, and I left the whole folder with Derek and urged him to, but well, my nephew is an idiot.”

“Yep. That’s definitely a bad idea. Wait, when are they even doing this?” His dad asks, turning to Peter now that Stiles has settled down a fair bit.

“Sunday at six.”

“Jesus,” John mutters, standing to clean off the table.

Stiles just sort of sits there, mouth dropped open in shock. He knew, intellectually, that the pack wasn’t going to read his research, but well he still hoped. He put so much of himself into it, so much time and energy and sleepless nights and skipped meals.

But above all else, that folder was to keep them alive. It was good information, useful information. It was all they needed to take down the Alphas, and knowing that they didn’t read it, that they’ll be going in blind when Stiles literally gave them all the answers, is what’s pissing off Stiles the most.

He stays in his seat until Peter comes and ushers him up, leading him to the couch. Stiles settles into the side, curling his legs up and resting his head on his knees. He knows what this means, knows that he’s going to have to do something to keep those idiots safe, whether he wants to or not. His dad flops down onto the couch beside him, tugging Peter down before wrapping an arm around the wolf and pulling him closer.

Stiles smiles at that, all earlier anger leaking out of him, “This might be too early, but when you guys get married I better be the best man,” Stiles says softly, laughing as Peter’s smile turns smug and his dad blushes, the slight pink turning to deep red as Peter shoves his face into the older man's neck to breathe. “Scenting. Werewolf thing.”

His Dad just hums at the explanation, rubbing his chin against Peter’s temple, already adapting. Peter purrs at that, a god honest purr erupting from his throat and in turn his dad pulls the man closer, a soft smile gracing his lips as he continues to rub his scent into the wolf.

“Okay, ground rules. No sex when I’m here, but sleep overs are on hundred percent a-okay. Peter, I expect you to keep buying me that really good coffee and to stop buying those doughnuts.”

“Stiles, you do realize I am the father right?”

“You may be the father, but Stiles is most definitely the Alpha.” Peter grumbles from John’s neck.

“Yeah Dad, I’m the Alpha.” Stiles says, smiling to himself.

John just sighs, because what is he going to do. His - boyfriend (maybe?) and son are going to team up against him on everything, it’s already happening! “Alright, so what are we going to do about this meeting?”

“Oh, I’m going to be there,” Stiles says, plan already in motion.

“Dear boy, I would expect nothing less,” Peter comments, leaning back into the couch, “Alright, so we will be on the north perimeter of the preserve…”

The rest of the evening is spent in the soft light of the TV, Stiles and Peter loosely coming up with a plan as some game show plays softly in the background. At some point Stiles curls up into his Dad’s side as Peter does the same on the other.

That’s how Stiles falls asleep, to the light of the TV and his Dad and Peter whispering to each other.

#wyib #With You I Belong #my writing #my fic #teen wolf #fanfiction #stiles stilinski #peter hale #sheriff stilinski #deucalion #deucalion/stiles #fluff #getting together #Sheriff Stilinski/Peter Hale #dads in love #sheriff stilinski is a good dad

6 notes · View notes

foreverrj · 4 years

Text

Star Wars Episode 9:Restored Hope: Part 1(Chpt 9)( Fan Fic to finish right)

Act 3.A-3

The surviving leaders of the resistance along with Ahsoka and Lando, Rey, Jacen, Poe, and Finn, at a table, discussing the attack and how to proceed and what to do next.

Lando says “ Ahsoka you clearly know what those things were. They Destroyed the entire resistances! That was It! So many lives! We were there for one last battle. That was an unseen massacre, how do we stop that if they can stop our ships and weapons. What is going on?”

Ahsoka says “They are the Yuuzhan Vong. After leaving the Rebellion at the Fall of the Empire and after Helping Luke find new students. I went to the Unknown Regions, beyond The First Order to find my Friend Ezra.” Jacen interjects “ My master.” Ahsoka Continues and says “ When I found him, the region was in war and devastation. He made an Alliance with our former enemy Thrawn and his people known as the Chiss. They gathered what surviving systems to Fight the Vong. The Vong is unfazed by the Force our lightsabers and the weapons from the Chiss where the only thing effective. We put our differences aside and had Fallon a student of Snoke joined us he had knowledge of fighting them as well. We gained knowledge of a Force artifact, that gives and takes the ability of the force to beings. We wanted to use it against the Vongs, we wanted to stop there conquest.” We sent Jacen to Jakku to find Rey and help Luke with the new Jedi order.”

Rey says “This timing is off, and the new Jedi order is being rebuilt after’s Ben betrayal to Luke and his order, now those things are here in our region of the galaxy.”

Ahsoka says “ Before my arrival, they found our base and ambushed us. Ezra and the others sent me to come but I was attacked on my way and my ship was damaged.” Lando then asked, “ So Ahsoka you brought them, you lead them here?” Asoka answers “ They were coming here regardless.” One of the Resistance leaders ask “What do we do now?” Lando then says “ That is the million credit question. We have no fleet, we made the First contact to a hostile race and our weapons our ineffective.” Jacen then says “Not to mention Fallon is on his way with Knights of Ren to find the force artifact. Lando replies “ And there’s that.” Everyone looks at one another with worry and concern. Ahsoka says “ Rey, Jacen come with me to mediate as we ask the force for clarity.” A Jedi student asks “ Shall we come, what would you like us to do?” Rey responds “ Keep among yourselves, make sure the others are ok.” Jacen then follows “These times are trying on all of us, take this time to consider it as trails for your place in the galaxy as peacekeepers, we are what is left. Do your part help them and wait for our return.” Ahsoka, Rey, and Jacen leave the command room.

Finn and Poe walk over to Lando, Poe says to him “ We are what's left as well, we can’t just wait around. There has to be something.” Lando says to them “ We got blindsided, lost everything, right now this is the safest place I know. You guys know me, I have a plan for everything this time I don’t. By the way, Finn deep within my being it is great to see you after losing you. Poe right now the force is the only constant thing and we have to trust it. Poe and Finn are looking perplexed and Lando leaves the table and exits the command room. Poe says to Finn “ I’m formulating a plan.” Finn ask what percent of a plan?” Poe answers “12 percent, it’s loading and it will be worth it just be there for me.”Finn says “ You got it.” Poe then says “ We need to talk to Rey”. The two of them exit the command room.

Finn and Poe a arrive at the room where Jacen, Ahsoka, and Rey are meditating standing outside the door. The door automatically opens. Finn and Poe are both nervous hesitant to walk through they wait for a moment seeing the Three Jedi in a deep meditative trance. Poe knocks firmly on the trim of the door, Jacen looks at them annoyed, Ahsoka just opens her eyes and stares at them. Rey looks over at them surprised. Poe says “ I’m sorry to interrupt but may we speak with Rey?” Ahsoka does a simple head nod of agreement. Rey gets up and walks over. They step in the hallway, the door closes behind them. Finn asks her “ How is the meditating?” She answers “ We just started, no answers yet. How may I help you two?” Poe says “ Rey we need to barrow the Falcon. It’s the only working ship we right now and the fastest. What I have planned will give us a fighting a chance but nothing will happen with us waiting on a plan. It’s being proactive.” Rey then asks Poe “ Didn’t Leia want you to be less impulsive?” Poe answers “She did, and all the lessons she taught me I have applied, and having a spark of hope and being one is her greatest lesson that I’m applying.” Rey then says “ I understand we need hope right now, You’re the best pilot, go.

Lando comes around the corner sees the three of them talking. He walks up to them and asks “What is this conversation here?” Poe steps to him and puts his arm on his shoulder and says “ We’re taking the Falcon to make things happen.” Lando being frustrated says “ Wait one crinking minute! Fleet of ships or not I am still General of this outfit and you two are my subordinates under my command. I need you here and I forbid you from taking my ship!” Rey, Finn, and Poe are taken back by Lando’s forcefulness. Rey says excuse me, General, but that ship has been in my overall possession in the last five years I trust these 2 to take care of it.” Lando rebuttals quickly “ Her” Rey questions “Excuse me?” Lando says “ It’s not an it but a her she is a special ship that deserves special treatment.” He asks her “ You said the ship just started after the blackout on it’s own correct?” She answers “ It did.” Lando Replies “ Well it runs on its own unique operating system off a wonderful droid known as L3. She always knew what to do find her own her way. Respectfully master Jedi, you just took a long detour to bring her home, Han stole it from me anyway.”

Lando beings to point at Poe and Finn “You and you and the falcon are staying here that is a direct order.” Finn walks up to Lando and says in a gentle tone “ Lando this is bigger than nostalgia and hurt feelings, this is about the fate of the galaxy, we aren’t the resistance right now, we are refugees and we have to go to save what we can. Poe and I are going.” Lando says you are all I have left the both of you, after this attack, I’m tired of loss.” Poe says to him “ We have to go to gain.” Lando says “ Fine bring HER back in one piece.” Rey smiles pleasantly and says to Lando “ Thank you.” Lando pats her hand and pats Poe and Finn on their shoulders and then walks off. Poe waves Finn to come on, Finn raises one finger up telling him to hold on. Poe walks off, Rey and Finn are in the hallway he walks up to herm they are standing face to face, they are looking deeply into one another's eyes. Finn says to her “ It seems that we part so much, I want to us to reconnect in a peaceful way.” Rey says to him “We have to bring peace to let that happen, go and we’ll connect later.” While looking in her eyes and he nods in agreement and then walks off. Rey watches him with care in her eyes walks down the hallway out of her sight. She smiles slightly and returns to the room with Jacen and Ahsoka.

Poe sees Chewbacca sitting down wallowing in his feelings.

Poe walks over to him and asks Chewie “I need you to come and fly the Falcon with me, you are the most important in this endeavor, would you come.?” Chewbacca stands up quickly and makes a series of growls in agreement and excitement.

Finn, Poe, and Chewbacca are in the Falcon. Poe gets into the main pilot chair and sits for a moment and allow the experience to resonate with him. They click and levers and push buttons and the Falcon lifts off.

It flys off fast and goes into hyperspace. Poe and Chewbacca are excited Finn is filled with worry on Poe’s piloting on an old object but doesn't express it.

Lando goes into the jail of the base where Kylo is being held, He says to the guards “give us a minute.” One of them says “ You sure sir?” Lando nods yes, they exit the jail.

He sees Kylo sitting in his cuffs with the expression of pain and misery on his face.

Kylo asks Lando “ What makes you think I won’t kill you where you stand? Lando answers “Because I see a broken man. I’m not worth the rage to be killed right now.” Kylo scuffs with a smirk then straightened out his face with anger and conviction and says to him “You left me uncle Lando like everyone else. The stories of the great generals of the rebellion and the new republic were all delusions. My parents, Luke and yourself were around for everyone else but me. Snoke took an interest in me when my own family didn’t.”

Lando Replies “ We weren't Jedi. Your parents did the best they could sending you to your uncle the greatest and only Jedi at the time. Your force abilities manifest no older than four. We wanted you to be the new branch of hope and peace for the galaxy. I didn’t live a lifestyle for a child but if your parents would've asked me would've taken you in.” Kylo interjects with tension in his voice and asks “ Did any of you considered what I wanted?” Lando answers “ Your parents thought what was best for you. What did you want?” Kylo answers “ For my family to be together.” Lando replies “ Your rage won’t ever allow that.” Kylo than asks “ Where does this leave us, uncle?” Lando responds “ I wish I knew.” Kylo says “ Currently I have no remorse. I have made my decisions, but I can help in fighting those things that attacked. If you come to a decision let me know.”

Lando leaves the jail the guards enter in soon as he leaves. Lando is in the hallway and leans against the wall with one hand covering his eyes weeping over the lost soul of his nephew.

Fallon and the Knights of Ren approach Coruscant.

Mission Control transmits a message to Fallon and the Knights. Mission controls says “Frist order is not strictly prohibited in Coruscant space. State your business or prepare for termination.”

Fallon replies “ We are in Frist Order ships but we do not represent them or affiliated. Our business is only recreational. May we land?” Mission control responds “ You may enter. You will be greeted and escorted by authorities upon your arrival for questioning.” Fallon responds “ Very well”.

Fallon looks back at the Knights and say “ Let me do all the talking stay silent.” They nod in agreement.

Fallon and the Knights of Ren are greeted by Coruscant authorities.

They get escorted to the police station. Moments later Fallon and the Knights exit the police station. One of the Knights ask Fallon how did you get out so soon?” Fallon answers “ Mind trick. Time is of the utmost importance. We are going to the old temple. There will be security there, execute with extreme prejudice when we get there.”

On the perimeter of the Temple, Fallon and the Knights of Ren infiltrate stealthfully around and into the temple. They quickly kill unsuspecting guards behind their backs. They make their way into the temple covertly on the move. A set of guards see find the dead guards and radio in the fact of intruders. The alarm goes off. Fallon and the Knights are surprised and begin running in the temple. They are spotted by guards and they being a pursuit and firing their blasters. The Fallon and the Knights defend themselves using their training, the force, and their weapons.

They massacred everyone in the temple. Leaving a path of lifeless bodies. The only thing that can be heard is the footsteps of Fallon and the Knights echoing throughout the temple.

Fallon is holding the campus it slightly glows leading the way to what he is looking for. One of the Knights asks Fallon “ Master why are we here, why were these people here? The Jedi haven’t been here in decades” Fallon answers “ You are correct, after the Jedi purge and the rise of the Empire, Darth Emperor Sideous Sheev Palpatine however pretentious he was, refurbished the temple and made it his castle for the sake of narcissism. After the fall of Empire, it’s just a monument now, nothing more than an attraction for the system.

The further they go down into the leaves temple the more decrepit and depressing the architecture is of the damage from a time once before.

They make it down to the lowest of the temple. It is dimly light and they walk to arrive to the end of the hallway with a door with carvings on it.

A Knight of Ren asks Fallon “What’s this?” Fallon responds in a smug tone “ A door.” Fallon continues “ After the Thousand-year war between Sith and Jedi, the Jedi won and built this ostentatious monstrosity on top of a sith temple. Palpatine knew this and left what we needed when he resided here.” Another Knight asks “ What is what we need?” Fallon says “The answer to our dominance and destiny. Real power.” Another Knight asks “How will we get through the door?” Fallon roles his eyes in annoyance and answers “With a key.” Fallon pulls a medallion out of a pocket on his belt.

Fallon extends his arm holding the medallion to the door. He beings chanting under his breath an unknown language. The key begins to glow soon after the door. Moments later it opens to a main entrance wat of the Sith temple.

As they continue to walk through the temple they make their way into a tomb.

Fallon proceeds to follow the guidance of the compass towards the statue of the tomb which is a sarcophagus. At the base of the tomb is a carving holding a dagger wrapped in red maroon cloth. Fallon reaches for it and unwraps it. Fallon and the Knights of Ren gaze it in awe.

Fallon grabs the dagger and cuts the blade across his hand and allows his blood to drip on the sarcophagus which has deep carvings and symbols and the blood makes its way through.

Fallon’s blood makes it all the way to the center of the emblem. The atmosphere of the tomb gets freezing cold. The knights grab their shoulders acknowledging the cold. Then a major gust of wind speeds through the temple coming to their location. Smoke escapes out of the sarcophagus.

The smoke moves wildly and begins to take the shape of a male being.

The figure becomes a cloud a smoke once again and consumes Fallon. The Knights of Ren are unable to see him.

The smoke clears and they see a figure bent over with smoke coming off of his body and he stands slows, It seems that Fallon's appearances has changed but the Knights are unable to make out what they see. One of the knights ask “ Master?” He turns around slowly holding the dagger to reveal who he is to them and he replies “ I am.” The Knights of Ren are alarmed and unaware of who or what he is.

1 note · View note

araeph · 7 years

Note

I think Sokka's quest for identity is one of the most interesting things about him. What it means to be a man, to be useful and to be acknowledged is an interesting central conflict for a supporting character. What do you think S3 Sokka believes it takes to be a man. I think he's learnt to intercede and mediate issues in his family and to make tough choices. What else can you think of?

Sokka: Now men,it’s important that you show no fear when you face a firebender. In the WaterTribe, we fight to the last man standing. For without courage, how can we callourselves men?

Anotherexcellent question! Sokka’s quest for identity is intrinsically linked to hisquest for manliness, because if you’ll recall, Sokka was not able to become aman by Water Tribe custom before he was nominally put in charge of the tribe:

Bato: How aboutyou, Sokka? You must have some good stories from your first time ice-dodging?Katara: He never got to go. Dad left before he was old enough.Bato: Oh, I forgot, you were too young.Aang: What’s ice-dodging?Bato: It’s a rite of passage for young water tribe members.

But while Katara was helping with the chores, keeping her familytogether and helping to deliver babies, Sokka was left adrift, without apaternal example to emulate for two of his teenage years. War never came to hisdoorstep, so he resorts to “training” the kindergarten crowd. And notice thatKatara (and likely the other members of his tribe) don’t take this seriously:

Katara: Ugh, I’membarrassed to be related to you! Ever since Mom died I’ve been doing all thework around camp while you’ve been off playing soldier!

Playing soldier.Katara’s right: that’s exactly what Sokka has been doing, because therigid gender expectations of being a man don’t allow him to do anything else.Once Aang arrives and upends Sokka’s world, his identity as a would-be mancollides with the reality of the war and the people around him.

The Four Partsof Being a Man (by Sokka)

1. Leader

Sokka : Iknow you all want to fly, but my instincts tell me we should play it safe thistime and walk.Katara: Who made you the boss?Sokka: I’m not the boss—I’m the leader.Katara : You’re the leader? But your voice still cracks!Sokka: I’m the oldest and I’m a warrior. So…I’m the leader!

Katara: You’rehurt. Badly. You can’t fight anymore. Hakoda: Everyone’s counting on me to lead this mission, Katara. Iwon’t let them down. Sokka: Can’t you heal him any faster? Katara: I’m doing everything I can. Sokka: I’ll do it.Katara: No offense Sokka but you’re not exactly Mr. Healing Hands.Sokka: No. I’ll lead the invasion force. Katara: Don’t be crazy, Sokka.Sokka: Maybe I am a little crazy but the eclipse is about to start andwe need to be up that volcano by the time it does.Hakoda: You can do this. I’m proud of you, son. Katara: I still think you’re crazy but I’m proud of you too.

Sokka’s father is the chief, so it makes sense that being a man impliesbeing a leader. But before his adventure, Sokka has only a nebulous idea ofwhat that really means. Worse, he seems to think that being a man makes him aleader, instead of being a leader making him a man. When he first tries toassert his authority in “Jet”, he is met with ridicule:

Aang: Walking stinks!How do people go anywhere without a flying bison?Katara: I don’t know Aang. Why don’t you ask Sokka’s instincts—theyseem to know everything.Sokka: Ha ha. Very funny.Aang: I’m tired of carrying this pack.Katara: You know who you should ask to carry it for a while?Sokka’s Instincts!Aang: That’s a great idea! Hey, Sokka’s Instincts, would you mind—Sokka: Okay, okay—I get it.

As so often happens, Sokka has to adapt to the situation. “Jet” is abouta boy who, although a good leader in most senses, leads his team astray intomurder and mayhem. Sokka, even though he is a novice, realizes innocent livesare on the line and warns the townspeople before the dam explodes. He didn’texpect to be a leader at the moment, but he didn’t fail when it really mattered.Throughout the series, his tactical and strategic successes accumulate untilthe entire GAang relies on him to plan their missions. And on “The Day of BlackSun”, despite his fumbling speech beforehand, Sokka takes the reins of themission and performs admirably.

Aang: It’s over.The Fire Lord is probably long gone. Far away on some remote island where he’llbe safe during the eclipse.Sokka: No. My instincts tell me he wouldn’t go too far. He would have asecret bunker. Somewhere he could go so it’ll be safe during a siege but stillbe close enough to lead his nation.Toph: If it’s an underground secret bunker we’re looking for, I’m justthe girl to find it.

No one’s laughing at Sokka’s instinctsnow.

2. Protector

Katara :Sokka, you’re making a mistake. Sokka: No! I’m keeping my promise to Dad. I’m protecting you fromthreats like him!

Illusion Yue: You didn’t protect me.

Sokka’smother was murdered when he was very young, and there was nothing he could doabout it. He knows from how devastated his father was and how driven he becameto help the war effort that being a man must mean protecting people—especially the women in your life. Sokkaprotects Katara on multiple occasions from threats real (Jet, Mai) and imagined(Aang, Appa). Protecting Katara is his way of protecting the mother he couldn’tsave as a boy. And his inability to protect Yue from sacrificing herself cutshim deeply. He overcompensates by trying to shield Suki from everything:

Suki: Look,I know you’re just trying to help, but I can take care of myself. Sokka: I know you can. Suki: Then why are you acting so over protective?Sokka: It’s so hard to lose someone you care about. Somethinghappened at the North Pole, and I couldn’t protect someone. I don’t wantanything like that to ever happen again.

In the end,Sokka learns how to be protect the people he cares about without stifling them.His shielding of Toph in the finale is very similar to his protecting Katara inthe pilot:

But there’sone key difference: in the pilot, Sokka thought of Katara as someone who ismore in need of protection as a girl. In the finale, Sokka recognizes that Tophcan’t see the falling shards of metal, but respects her fighting ability overand over:

Sokka: Did Imention how sweet it was that you invented metalbending?

Sokka: I am soglad we added you to the group!

3. Warrior

Even morethan being a leader, being a warrior defines being a man in the Water Tribe.And no wonder; with decades of being raided by the ruthless Fire Nation, andwaterbenders being increasingly scarce, the South would have had to rely moreand more on brute strength to drive off the invaders. A warrior is also the onething Sokka is most insecure about because it implies a certain skillset thathe was too young to receive full training in. Not to mention, his sister is awaterbender and he is not. Witness this exchange from “The Warriors of Kyoshi”:

Sokka: Whoare you? Where are the men who ambushed us? Suki: There were no men. We ambushed you. Nowtell us, who are you and what are you doing here? Sokka: Wait a second, there’s no way that a bunch of girls took usdown.

Althoughgender roles are fairly rigid in the Southern Water Tribe, the Sokka from thevery beginning of the series feels an especially constant need to reinforce being awarrior as a “manly” pursuit and puts Katara down for being a girl. I am remindedof Iroh’s speech to Zuko:

Iroh: Prince Zuko,pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source.

Iroh: Truehumility is the only antidote to shame.

Sokka’s status as a nonbender is oftena source of shame for him. He is treated differently by bending masters:

Master Pakku: Sokka. Take care, son.

And even his own teammates:

Toph: We can take‘em. Three on three.Sokka: Actually, Toph, there’s four of us.Toph: Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t count you. You know, no bending and all.Sokka: I can still fight!Toph: Okay. Three on three plus Sokka.

This leads him to act proud of hismanliness, an attribute that he needs no training or bending to have. He eventries to get Aang to act “manlier” and not answer to “Twinkletoes”. In the end,though, he confesses the truth about how he feels:

Sokka: Look, Iappreciate the effort, but the fact is each of you is so amazingand so special, and I’m not. I’m just the guy in the groupwho’s regular.

But Sokka isspecial, and as the series goes on, he proves his mettle with a balance ofoutlandish inventiveness and logical practicality:

Sokka: See, theproblem with the old war balloon was you could get it airborne, but once youdid, it just kept going. You could put a hole in the top, but then allthe hot air would escape. So the question became, how do you keep a lid on hotair? Katara: Ugh, if only we knew. Sokka: A lid is actually the answer. If you control the hot air, youcontrol the war balloon. Katara: Hmm. That’s actually pretty smart.

Sokka: I need a plan of this machine. Some schematics that showwhat the inside looks like. Then we can find it’s weak points. Aang: Where are we gonna get something like that What are youdoing! Someone’s gonna hear us! Sokka: That’s the point. I figure a machine this big needsengineers to run it, and when something breaks…Katara: They come to fix it.

He overcomes his insecurities as a warrior by being true to himself.

Piandao: Sokka,when you first arrived, you were so unsure. You even seemed down on yourself.But I saw something in you right away. I saw a heart as strong as a lionturtle, and twice as big. And as we trained, it wasn’t your skills thatimpressed me. No, it certainly wasn’t your skills. You showedsomething beyond that. Creativity, versatility, intelligence… these arethe traits that define a great swordsman. And these are the traits that defineyou. You told me you didn’t know if you were worthy, but I believe thatyou are more worthy than any man I have ever trained.

4. Father

Sokka can show how brave he is, how creativehe is, and how much of a leader he’s become. But in the end, he measures hisidentity as a man by his father’s example:

Aang:Sokka, that speech wasn’t your moment of truth. That was just publicspeaking and nobody’s really good at that.Sokka: My Dad is. He explained the plan perfectly and inspired everyone.Like a real leader should. Aang: Look, your moment of truth isn’t going to be in front of some map.It’s going to be out there, on the battlefield.

Unlike with Zuko, Sokka’s confidence in hisfather is fully justified. As he grows and matures, he becomes, not a copy ofhis father, but his own person. He learns that he can be a warrior withoutputting others down, and he can assert authority without being pigheaded. Hecan trust in his own abilities, regardless of how skilled everyone else isaround him. And Hakoda validates Sokka’s identity in every respect.

As a protector:

Hakoda: Sokka…Sokka: I’m coming with you.Hakoda: You’re not old enough to go to war, Sokka, you know that.Sokka: I’m strong! I’m brave! I can fight! Please, Dad!Hakoda: Being a man is knowingwhere you’re needed the most, and for you right now that’s here protecting yoursister.Sokka: I don’t understand.Hakoda: Someday you will. I’m going to miss you so much.

As a warrior:

Hakoda: Ready togo knock some Fire Nation heads?Sokka: You don’t know how much this means to me dad. I’ll make youproud, and I’ll finally prove to you what a great warrior I am.Hakoda: Sokka, you don’t have to prove anything to me. I’m already proud of you, and I’ve alwaysknown you were a great warrior.Sokka: Really?Hakoda: Why do you think I trusted you to look after our tribe when Ileft?

As a leader:

Sokka:No. I’ll lead the invasion force. Katara: Don’t be crazy, Sokka.Sokka: Maybe I am a little crazy but the eclipse is about to start andwe need to be up that volcano by the time it does.Hakoda: You can do this.I’m proud of you, son.

And as a man.

Hakoda: Bato, getthese mines loaded up. The rest of you men, prepare for battle! Sokka: Uh, what should I do, Dad?Hakoda: Aren’t you listening? I said the rest of you men get ready for battle.

Sokka willbe a fantastic father to his own children someday, no matter what LOK might imply.

#a:tla #sokka #katara #water tribe #long post

356 notes · View notes

samedischoolblog · 5 years

Text

Sanity, a dynamic state.

Well this type of entry is not an easy one, it assumes that I have all the boxes ticked regarding dealing with the pressure of school. In actual fact, it’s far from it... I’d like to open the discussion and make us all introspect on how we deal with the pressure we face in our lives. Be it work, school, family or anything else. If you have any comments, please do share, all input is welcomed and I am looking forward to the discussion...

Let’s talk “sanity”

Grab a snack, something to drink and let’s unpack...

Before we go any further, let’s take a look at the definition of sanity. I think then I’ll be able to put it into context...

Lol after reading the definition I’m starting to wonder if I have ever really been sane and if sanity is really attainable ... and in all honesty I don’t think static sanity is attainable.

Realness says that there will be moments where instead of rationality and being proper there is rage !! Realness says that there will be defeat, resentment, loathing. Realness says, “who tf even came up with this definition, it’s so stiff”.

Realness says that as dynamic human beings, we cannot be bound by such because life is not in any sense normal. Life-and the things about it-can test your sanity. The true question is, will sanity always prevail?

The question posed to me was how I keep my sanity. My response would go something like, “I don’t keep ideally sane”. I have made a definition of sanity for myself that allows me to be whole rounded and put together, without the stiffness of the definition. I allow myself to feel a whole host of emotions, relevant to the situation. There’s no point in being okay, when I’m not really okay. I am one person who’s face reads like an open book. When I’m sad you can see, my smile will always reveal my happiness or excitement and my nose 😂, this little part of me is where all my anger is seen.

I decided to make a mini(not extensive at all) list of examples of how I approach sanity:

I allow myself to feel emotions including : rage, sadness, uncertainty, defeat, resentment but never regret.

I see life as dynamic and borderless. I don’t like being boxed in and bound to feeling or acting a certain way. I live in each moment and give it the emotion it deserves. (Tsunamis are earthquakes that never expressed themselves...).

I believe my foundation is strong. I have made it a point to create hobbies, realtaionships and thoughts that are positive. I inspect energy and if it’s bad, I immediately detach myself.

I choose which battles to fight (and boy do I fight). But I don’t fight everything, I choose my battles.

I rest (sometimes more than I should), but fuck it, I rest.

Sometimes (or maybe most times) the spirit will not allow you to sit still, with proper posture and smile away whatever you are facing, and I guess, realness says that it’s absolutely okay to feel that way. It’s absolutely okay to not be okay... and in those moments of rage, uncertainty, insecurity and not being okay, you should ask, what foundation have I set for myself ? Will that challange be the end of me, or will I be able to build myself back up ?

I think a good foundation involves:

Self awareness and self love.

A good friend of mine always tells me that I am quite self aware. Which creeps me out because I feel so clueless tbh😂. And in my cluelessness, my main focus is to always make sure that I keep myself safe from any permanent mental damage. I create a safety net around my feelings, so that if anything happens that should hurt me, I am able to bounce it off.

What I used to do, which made me very “in sane” was internalize the things people say and do as truths. I would also internalize failing exams or feeling stupid in class, where it seemed that everyone else around me was doing well. Trust me, this approach was far from good for me. And I have learnt that sanity involves creating a safe space for myself, within myself. In this safe space, no soul is allowed to tremble, this is a sacred place and may need some mediation and quiet time to reach.

My mom always says that the things you fill your mind with, manifest in your daily living.

I have come to realized the truth in this. When I used to allow negative energy into my space, it remained in my thoughts. Thinking about and rehashing these negative things then started to manifest in my mood and everything I did. Inside negativity can easily be released as failed endeavors, missed opportunities, broken relationships (or remaining in toxic ones) and a truck load of self-loathing.

I decided at some point, to try and let positivity in, and actively block negativity. I decided to use up ,my time on things that make me happy. This kept me so busy, I stopped trying to solve why people have negative intentions (sis started minding her business) and why they have negative energy (this is where the block button comes in handy btw)... I also made this decision a habit which has changed my outlook on a lot of things in life.

One of the things I do when meditating, is honing in on who I am. I know I am fearfully and wonderfully made. But extra affirmations come in handy as a reserve for these moments where I don’t feel fearfully and wonderfully made.

Here are some affirmations we can share (none of them have full stops at the end because we are limitless) :

I am beautiful, I am strong, I am intelligent, I am hilarious 😂, I am interesting, I am worthy, I can do all things, I am kind, I am loved, I can love

No one is allowed to come into my space with a bad aura. Voetsek with all that

Because I’m too blessed to be stressed, I pray for decernment and when someone or something comes with negativity may I shut the door immediately

Failure is not misery, and a bad day is not a bad life

May I exude the good vibes I harbor

May I not give unnecessary fucks (reserving the few fucks I have left)

Good habits are so important guys !!!

Apparently a habit is made after 21 consistent days of doing something. In this sense, take 21 days to hone in on things that you like doing outside of work or school. Make it part of your DNA and allow yourself to restore your joy in this space. Mine is running and watching TV. The endorphins from running are unmatched. And TV shows like love and hip hop make you feel so grateful for the life you have 😂... also who doesn’t feel better after ratchet Tv?

Drink water !!! It’s good for everything, cools you down and the effects on your mood and skin, unmatched!!

Understand that sanity is not static . Neither is it a destination. It’s a constant compromise to keep your spirit clear of the bad and filled with good.

“I don’t see sanity as a static state. And if sanity were a person, she’d be a black woman... she’d be the face of strength and the act of accordingly. Sanity would want to be strong for everyone. Sanity would take punches... even those not meant for her, just because she is the face of grace and strength... Sanity, would be a mbokodo, but inside, crumbling and with each crack. She’s been part of fixing everyone around her. And refused a break to fix herself. Sanity is in a competitive work or school space and needs to just keep on surviving, because if she doesn’t she will be seen as weak. But sanity needs to rest. Sanity needs to forgive herself. Sanity is not confined to being strong. Sanity also has a right to lose it and breakdown. Sanity is not weak!!! Sanity needs to trust more and enjoy being vulnerable. Sanity is worthy of love and sanity is worthy of being taken care of . Sanity can rest when she’s tired.”

#medicine #medicalblog medicalschool #southafrica #medical student #medstudyblr #africa #medstudlife #sanity #opentalk

0 notes

samosasandchutney · 7 years

Text

okay, so let me try and give you some information on how lacking the Caribbean is in free-thinking and addressing mental health. Some background info first, I am a petite Indian-Hindu girl, stereotypically nerdy, antisocial and awkward af around new people, with the glasses, had the braces and am always in a book and always dressing in oversized tees and jeans. So, people generally place me in the stereotyped category of “nerdy, demure, innocent Indian girl”. With that said, I am an Indian girl who lives in a predominantly black country and the Indian community, as small as it is, is extremely extreeemely like, (woh boy) so socialist, even divided so much so that there’s a group of what we call Sindhis (people that came directly from India in more recent times) and the Guyanese community (descendants of the indentured Indians between the years of, roughly, 1833-1920). Even though I technically fall in the second grouping, I never really belong there because of the ‘nerdy, demure, innocent, indian girl’ stereotype as well as the fact that I’m not “Guyanese” enough. So being isolated from your own community and then not finding any way to connect with the people around you, it’s tiring. Facing this and my depression, chronic panic disorder and developing ocd, life gets trying. So these mental illnesses are kind of crippling, especially since they’re not being treated properly.

The first person I did go to try and get some sort of help was this priest that was recommended to my mother. At the time I was thirteen and my mom believed my ‘acting out’ was because my father had died three years prior (I was suffering from panic attacks but she assumed it was ‘attitude’ because my panic attacks included moments of anger, frustration and crying). On the first visit the priest started to criticize me for being Hindu and told me that my lack of belief in God is what is causing these problems. Not only that but then he started to guilt trip me about how my mother, a now single mother, cannot afford to have her daughter ‘act out’ and ‘ruin’ any chances of her advancing in her life. which like. .. what?? The second person I went to was an Indo-Trini Christian. School was a rather stressful time for me at this moment because during my two years in sixth form I was so crippled by my mental illness that it took a terrible toll on my physical health and I was also suffering from a severe case of costochondritis. I was trying to explain to this lady that at home I was suffering from some situations that was affecting my depression and anxiety. All she kept focusing on was school. Like she was telling me, “oh you have to get out of bed, you have to go to school, do your best,” Like it was all my personal decision to miss school. (> > really? really?) Then she started talking about going to school overseas and I immediately was sent into panic, because I had mentioned literally a session prior stating how money is a large source of my anxiety. I immediately just walked out.

Third person I went to, was a ‘family friend’, so she had previous information on my family dynamics etc. So when i tried to explain that there were problems at home that I need help with either ignoring or dealing with, she also made me focus on school and I’m like ??? School is like, a secondary source of anxiety - that’s kind of normal, what I’m dealing with at home, is more a concern atm. She then had me try and write out a list as to what I want in life and I’m just like ???? Did what she told me to and when I went in with my list she immediately started telling me that I am a ‘dreamer’. Apparently, my wanting the basic needs of my own home, to have a stable job and to end up living in Canada was too far stretched and I’m just like :| Why? Then she started to try and guilt me into ‘understanding’ that I’d be placing a financial pressure on my family and ‘how can I just up and leave my family’. . . like ??? How. IS. THIS. SUPPOSED. TO. HELP??? Fourth person I went to, was some, white woman who adopted Hindu practices into her life ( :| really?) Her first couple of sessions were that of ‘meditative’ purposes, which, cool okay. Imma hold these rocks and just, breathe. I can somewhat understand that this helps with my panic attacks etc (like, I would have liked to have gone through some sort of descriptive, introductory walkthrough but eh.) When it finally comes to a point where we talk about the situation I am in. I say “I’m suffering from depression and anxiety and I need help trying to mediate my way through it.” This woman. She laughs. Like “oh, you poor child” laugh. And asks “why would you think that?” My brain instantly clicks off and I’m like “Because. . .I don’t want to live anymore? I get panic attacks on a daily basis? I can’t get up and face the day?” Like take your pic, I genuinely have more. She then proceeds to laugh again and tells me I must ‘face reality.’ That I have to ‘wake up and realise life is constantly going on and that I can never change that.’ I’ve never been back to that lady.

The fifth person wasn’t actually someone I attended professionally. On the day of a midterm, I got a terrible panic attack and could barely move. My friends had to half-carry me to the on-campus clinic. I waited for about 20 minutes before I was finally ‘allowed’ to see the doctor and was promptly giving a side eye and a stupse (kissing of teeth). Apparently I needed to stop ‘playing around’ and ‘making excuses’ and ‘just go do the exam’. It gets even worse. Apparently she’s tired of ‘people always making excuses about missing exams, if you’re stupid you should just not be in uwi’. And she proceeded to rant and shout at me for about 20 minutes. While. I. Am. In. The. Middle. Of. A. Panic. Attack. . .. Like. In Barbados and the extended Caribbean. Mental illness is NOT a thing. It’s always pushed to the back burner. And what happens if you try and gain some sort of help you’re stereotyped. Given my stories, you can tell that being an Indian -school was a priority over getting help. As the daughter of a single-mother, I needed to care for her needs over mine. And as a female, I must put ideas of ‘fantasy’ out of my head and ‘face reality’. And as an Indian stereotype of ‘demure, innocent, nerd’ people feel that they can say whatever they want to me because Indian stereotypes state that I must ‘allow’ them to do whatever. And this is all ONE person’s story. Imagine this situation, happening to the thousands of children within the Caribbean. Males. Females. All of different races. Faced with pretty much only TWO options: 1. If the parents and/or the children themselves actually have some understanding of mental illness and are suffering from it. The person then faces the options of either pushing the situation under the rug because it’s socially debilitating or the person is shoved in a mental hospital which leads to them to go into a literally senile state or they’re so drugged up they don’t know how to function like a normal person. 2. the parents don’t know anything about mental illness and therefore cannot give the child the support and help the child needs. The child is then left in this constantly traumatic situation and some cannot even make it out of their family’s care / leave their Caribbean home because A. finances and B. the stigma of leaving the country. So basically, for a place that always tries to claim that there is a constant advancing within their community. They are not advancing in which really matters, the people and their health.

#op #texts #rant #sort of #personal #long post #sorry but i kind of am not at the same time #because im really frustrated by how stupid we as caribbean people ar #*are #sigh #mental illnesses #caribbean #indo-caribbean #mental health

2 notes · View notes