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studioxlii · 3 years

Note

18 and Junhee pls!! Xx

"to be fully seen by somebody, then, be loved anyhow is a human offering that can border on miraculous."

proof read: kinda

warnings: none

note(s): the format might be garbage, im mobile.

Love is a weird thing but so are the conditions that come with it; the limits that people decide need to be in place. You understood boundaries or not wanting to take too many steps before you knew the relationship would hold but some things never sat right with you. It took a few years but it wasn't until you overheard some of your project group talking that it finally hit you; most people you knew didn't want to date their best friends for two reasons.

1. It could ruin their friendship. This reason was obvious and of course you understood.

2. They'd seen way too much.

You remember hearing those words and your head lifting, confused and wondering what that could even mean. When you were in a relationship that would eventually progress, weren't they just going to see those things anyway? You never could let that thought go, not once you decided that would only make it better; it would make a relationship stronger. Well, in your eyes.

Dating was something that seemed to come easier to you before those thoughts started polluting your mind; no one seemed to understand or see you in a way you really wanted. The ideal person for you was someone who saw everything; the bad days, the good days and the maybe okay but not so great days. It was really starting to mess with you. By not wanting to date certain friends, were you restricting yourself from the relationship you really wanted?

Only one person, one friend, knew you better than you knew yourself, you were positive of that. Your best friend of nine years, Junhee, had probably been through almost every bad thing possible in life with you. You began recalling all the situations you'd been in with each other that were memorable; the things you wouldn't have faced with anyone else because you didn't want anyone else to see.

'Do you remember when you got your belly button pierced?'

And that's when it began.

The question came out of nowhere, breaking the silence of your apartment and leaving Junhee to look up from his book confused and blinking. 'Uh.. yes?' His response came out slow, hesitant like he was missing some weird in-between the lines meaning of the question.

Your head tilted, finally looking over at him. 'Do you remember the way you squeezed my hand to the point it was purple because it hurt so bad you nearly passed out?'

His features flushed at the ridiculous memory being forced back into his head. 'You mean the same day you had to cling to me, crying because your first tattoo felt like your leg was being seared off?'

You hated crying in front of people for any reason but you couldn't go alone; you'd never go alone for something like that. You just nodded in response before returning to your own book, continuing to read like you hadn't brought the subject up at all.

Your first date after you began recalling things and getting far too deep in what could only be sentimental thoughts went okay. A friend of your friend's, Sehyoon, who was an art major and knew of you but didn't know you; he'd never really integrated himself into the small friend circle on campus but Byeongkwan spoke highly of him.

He was sweet; a gentleman. Pretty much anything you could really ask for but you noticed little things; minute things that didn't even matter. You felt like you were being unreasonable or judgmental despite only picking out things that didn't match. Didn't match what, exactly?

He wasn't Junhee.

The realization had you suddenly shooting up from your seat, interrupting the poor male's answer to your question about his major and spilling out several apologies as you even fought to put money down for your own food. It took quite a few more 'I'm really sorry's before you were speeding out of the small restaurant; you'd make sure to call him later.

You found yourself in the only place that made sense: banging hard on the door of the RA for your building, hardly caring if you disturbed anyone else.

'What?' was the greeting you received from a very frustrated Donghun, wanting nothing more than to be left alone again. And yes, you called each other your friend.

'We have a really, really big problem.'

Being a mutual friend and despite not wanting to get involved in anyone's "drama", he spent two hours talking you out of it, down from it and against it, reminding you just why your newfound feelings for your best friend were a problem. He even reminded you of your comment, three years ago, about how you could never possibly like Junhee; how he remembered that and you didn't, you didn't care to ask.

You returned home a wreck, tired and wanting to burn your own emotions. Were you really uncovering some unconsciously buried feelings or did you just like the fact that he /saw/ you? He'd seen you nearly on your deathbed sick.

He'd seen you living in a depression nest for two weeks, barely able to get out a bed and eating nothing but honey buns and cereal.

He'd seen you grieve family members and pets; seen you walk into the rain and scream at the top of your lungs because of how lost in despair you'd been.

He'd seen you drunk and stupid; he'd seen you the night after a one night stand and hungover to the point you wanted to fight the sun.

He'd sat by you absolutely throwing your guts up.

He had seen every single side of you and you'd seen the same from him but it only started to stack further and further.

You knew his favorite songs because God forbid he only have one. You knew his favorite color, favorite food and his weird retirement plan that involved a tiny petting zoo of his own that he refused to just call a farm. Your pins for everything were each other's birthdates and he was the only other name on your bank account. Why?

Staring down at the menu you'd seen over a hundred times, you were sure, you couldn't decide on just what sounded good and part of you just wanted everything. Those moments staring at words that started to blur, you noticed Junhee hadn't touched his menu and kept shifting around, visibly uncomfortable for reasons you couldn't possible figure out.

'It's unlike you to not be going off about the food here.. or already having ordered your favorite drink that, I recall, you said you'd die without if you didn't have it every time you came here,' you began, closing the menu and setting it down with narrowed eyes, 'what's going on?'

'It's stupid. Just.. order and get some food, I'll probably just eat later. I'm not really hungry.'

That was a bold faced lie and you knew it, the concern growing. 'And, what's the oh-so-stupid reason, exactly?'

It took him a minute, shifting more and acting like a child who had gotten in trouble. 'I, uh.. I can't really..' he gestured around, lips pursed and growing even more upset by the second, you could tell by the way he was trying to stop himself from frowning. 'Can't really afford it.' You were college students, it wasn't the world's biggest secret if you couldn't afford something.

'Do you really think I'm just going to eat in front of you?' You snorted, avoiding any comment that would further his being upset over the situation, 'Don't worry about it and order, okay?'

Financial struggles were no quiet matter between the two of you and never had been since you started school. Junhee lived off campus in an apartment with two shitty roommates, a terrible part time job and parents that pretty much didn't care if he perished on the side of the street somewhere. You, on the other hand, which you didn't like bringing up, were doing fine but only because your parents dropped something of an 'allowance' into your account for foods and necessities.

You ignored his attempt to argue and told him if he didn't order something, you were going to do it for him; he shut up.

The next day, you took a trip to the bank.

You could feel eyes on you as you splayed across the couch, staring at the ceiling and contemplating life and all of it's annoyances. No question left you but even if you wanted to say something, you were cut off.

'So, are you going to tell me what's going on? For the past.. three weeks? You've been asking me all sorts of weird stuff,' Junhee inquired, frowning thoughtfully, 'Are you testing me or something? Trust me, yes, I remember every single second I've spent with you. I remember every word you've said, the names of every guy you've been with and the ones I'd like to fight. I remember every birthday and gift I've given you and the ones you've given me. Yes, I remember your favorite things and everything so, what's the deal?'

It sounded sentimental at first but then you noticed that all too familiar waiver in his voice and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his hands fiddling with the chain bracelet that had adorned his wrist for five years; he wanted to cry. A crying Junhee was something no one ever wanted on your hands and you briefly recalled a phone call from a very panicked Byeongkwan because of just that but you were letting your thoughts get off topic.

'I think I'm in love with you.'

'If you don't want to be fri-'

You were both cut off as your head turned to finally look at him, soaking in the unreadable expression on his features when someone busted through the door; 'Look!'

Both of you looked towards your two friends that invited themselves into your door, one holding a new cat and the other looking just as pleased with the announcement but it gradually dropped. 'Shit, did we interrupt something?' Of course, you always knew when you finally and truly confessed to someone that it would be Byeongkwan who ruined the whole thing; you used it as an escape, though, reminding yourself of what the confession could do to your friendship.

'New minion, I see,' you chimed, sitting up and ignoring the question, both of them, as you rose to greet Donghun's new pet. You were ignorant to the looks shared between the three boys and you were happy about that.

Now, you just had to avoid it ever coming up again until it was forgotten.

Junhee, however, didn't want that to happen.

After about an hour of chitchatting and ignoring the gaze of your best friend, you excused yourself under the excuse of having a meetup for a class, despite it being your dorm, and managed to weasel your way out. There was really nowhere to go, no one to talk to and you surely didn't have any plans for the next week; you ended up at the café on campus. It was quiet and filled mostly with a few students doing work and the two members of staff behind the counter, one eventually joining you at the table. He didn't say anything, waited for you to stop your dramatic Disney scene and acknowledge him.

'Would you date me, Yu?'

Taken a bit off guard, he ended up snorting. 'I can't tell if this is a trap or you want the genuine answer,' he replied, crossing his arms atop the table, 'but, on the hand that it's serious.. probably. I mean, I definitely wouldn't turn you down. We've known each other for a few years, hang out on a regular basis.. get along and have a lot of similar interests. So, yeah.'

The answer made your lips draw into a deep frown and you tapped your fingers against the cup, soaking up every word. 'Even though we're friends? What if we broke up?'

A soft 'ah' came from him as he realized what was really going on and he shrugged, thinking it over for a minute or two. 'We're both adults and I don't believe either of us would do something so that the breakup would be something that could ruin our friendship. I understand it would be like.. friends then it being intimate then back to friends, but I think both of us are mature enough to deal with that and not let it bother us too much.' He spoke like he'd been through it several times and in reality, it had only been once, a small fling with a mutual friend but they still seemed pretty okay. 'Is this about Jun?'

'Does everyone know?' You groaned out, releasing the cup to lean back and rub your hands over your face in defeat, 'I.. I told him I think I love him then Kwan and Donghun showed up and I bailed because now I don't actually want to face him or admit to ever actually saying it. I do! I do love him! I don't.. I don't want to lose him, you know?'

You could see the way the latter looked at you, sympathetic and calculating what words wouldn't just stress you out further. 'Look.. I know you don't want to hear it from me or anyone else for that matter because you want to keep saying it'll ruin your friendship when in reality, you don't like the idea that you could hurt each other, I was the same way with Donghun, so I understand.. but, you should really see all this from an outsider's point of view. Junhee looks at you like you hung the moon and you look at him like he painted the stars; yes, it's been like that since I've met you and a reminder, it's been years. I don't know what took you so long to realize it or if you've just avoided it this whole time but anyone would have to be blind not to see it. Now,' he sighed deeply as he finished and straightened, 'I think you should probably go and talk to him about it considering you just confessed then ditched but it's your choice. I don't think you have anything to worry about.. for either of you. You're the most loyal person I know, so I have no doubt you'd ever hurt him in a way that would ruin you guys and he can barely swat at a fly or sit still through hearing thunder, you think he's going to do something? Regardless.. one of these days, soon, you'll have to face it and I really hope you don't go into it with the cliché reason of your friendship being ruined.'

The words sank in slow and you wanted nothing but to cry your eyes out because he was right; he always was and you hated it. It took a while for you to speak and he seemed okay with that, briefly leaving you to fill a couple orders before returning. 'I know you're leaving for break tomorrow.. tell him before then.' Those were his last words before he bid you good luck and a good night, heading back to his own dorm, most likely to call Donghun now that he'd projected just a little bit.

Irrationality was a word that would be in your character description box and the word stupid could very well be right next to it because when you got home, you packed your bag and decided to leave early, not bothering to let any of your friends know. You needed time and you were being selfish, so selfish to the point you thought maybe he'd just hate you when you got back.

Oh boy were you wrong.

Two days into being back home and confiding in your mother who promptly smacked you upside the back of the head, you found yourself sitting on the porch and moping, split between what to do. You suspected the boys were a bit angry with you when you noticed the ample amount of texts, voicemails, social messages and phone calls that had gone ignored; you caught a glimpse of the absolute book Yuchan took the time to send you, leaving you kind of scared to even open it. It didn't take long for the guilt to set in but you chose to wait until you were back on campus to deal with it.

Or at least, that was your plan.

'So, I know you've never been a fan of confrontation but.. you've never been the type to run away.'

The sudden voice startled you as you hadn't even noticed anyone pull up and of course, upon looking up, you were met with the face you were trying to avoid the most. Junhee stood at the end of the sidewalk looking pitiful and shifting his weight in a nervous manner. You didn't bother trying to speak, not knowing what to say but you did wait for the rant, the berating that you deserved; that wasn't who he was though.

He even stayed quiet for a minute or two, making his way closer to sit on the steps, looking up towards your figure. 'Did you mean it?'

You could have answered right away, poured your heart out and let out the tears you'd been holding in since the moment you left. Instead, you stayed quiet and pulled your knees closer to your chest, not trusting your own voice. He didn't relent though, reaching out to lightly nudge your knee.

'That's all I need to know.. did you mean it? If.. if you didn't I can just leave and we don't have to bother with it again.'

'And, if I did..?' Finally finding your voice, you looked over to him, chewing hard on your lower tier, nervous and kind of wanting to throw up.

You could see him thinking it over before a faint smile showed up. 'I'd most likely cry.. but I'm going to cry either way,' he began, shrugging his shoulders while moving up to sit next to you, 'I'd also tell you that I love you, too and I've been trying to tell you that for years now.'

The confession made your heart flutter, your skin burn and the butterflies being kept back burst in delight in your gut. 'Even.. after everything we've been through? Everything you've seen..?'

Junhee nodded. 'Mhm. I'd go through it all again and what do you mean? I've seen nothing but you.'

#fairieswritings #a.c.e #junhee #clicheprompts #a.c.e scenarios #a.c.e reactions #a.c.e x reader #a.c.e imagines #a.c.e drabbles #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop drabbles #kpop reactions #kpop imagines

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wouldpollyapprove · 4 years

Text

Don’t Go

Summary: Y/n and Arthur’s relationship wasn’t one that anyone talked about, she was married and he was a Peaky Blinder. As forbidden as the romance seemed, they loved each other more than they could ever express. But what was unknown to everyone, was that Y/n’s marriage was no bed of roses and life at home was a nightmare. That comes to light, though, when she shows up at Polly’s all black and blue.

Request: Can you write one with Arthur - 8, fluff from the prompt list? Where Arthur is the one asked to stay, him having thoughts of being incapable to calm somebody else while being emotional himself in the situation.

Requested by @kotkameow

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: language, domestic abuse

A/n: This turned out real well, not as long as I wanted it to be but I’m happy nonetheless. Requests for oneshots are still closed but feel free to request gif imagines, headcanons, and/or prefrence. I should have those out quickly.

Masterlist

Blood poured out of the cut in her lip, the room spinning around her while she tried to push herself off the floor. She winced once weight was put on her feet, the adrenaline that had been in her system moments ago dwindling.

Only an hour ago she had returned home from work. And only an hour ago her life hadn’t been complete hell.

Y/n worked at the Shelby’s betting shop, mostly doing numbers as she had always been good at math. It wasn’t an ideal job in her mind, but once her husband lost his job at the bank, she was forced to find work to stay afloat. You would never hear her complain though.

Working for the Shelby’s had its ups and downs, but she loved the job. Perhaps it was the fact that it kept her busy or perhaps it was the fact that she’d developed a rather personal relationship with her boss’s brother. But no matter, it was always better to be anywhere than home.

Y/n’s husband wasn’t a violent man when she first married him. He was gentle, but never very loving. His work, his money, always meant more to him than anything in the world. Jim came from a wealthy family, one linked to the long-gone French monarchy, but that didn’t make him a gentleman. Y/n wasn’t aware of what her husband had done, but he’d done something bad enough to get him stripped of all his family’s money. So, he practically hoarded all the money that came into the house. Once he lost his job though, that’s when things started to go downhill.

The first time he raised a hand to her was when their plumbing needed repairing and it cost more than Jim liked. What was Y/n to do, though? She wanted running water and didn’t care how much it would cost. But Jim cared. He always cared about the money that was spent and made sure Y/n knew it. Her husband became so angered by her spending, mostly over household items, that she started to save away a quarter of her paycheck to buy things that she needed for the house.

It had never been bad, though. A bruise on her arm or cheek that would fade in a day. It was never more than that. His violent bursts were easy to conceal under the sleeve of a dress or a bit of vouge and for that she was thankful. She never wanted people to look at her, pity in their eyes, for what she dealt with at home. Y/n knew she was one of the lucky ones. Most women with abusive husbands had more wounds than she. She also knew that luck always ran out, just never expected her’s would run out so soon.

But one day, Jim had completely lost it.

Being a fool, he thought it a great idea to put all his money in during a game of poker. Jim wasn’t one to gamble, he knew nothing when it came to cards, yet he wanted to test his luck. Turns out the man was clean out and ended the game with a few small coins to his name. When he came home, Y/n was cleaning the kitchen, about to start dinner when he started yelling at her.

Leaning against the kitchen table, Y/n brought a shaking hand up to her lip, moving it away to see blood-covered fingers. She sighed as tears started to roll down her cheeks. What was she supposed to do now? Jim had stormed out of the house once he was finished beating her, but she knew he would return, likely drunk.

In fear of his return, Y/n fetched her coat and slipped out the front door. Her face was black and blue, she knew, with cuts littering it from the rings Jim wore and that was likely how the rest of her body looked. She couldn’t look, though, not at the damage done. It made her feel weak, trapped in an unhappy marriage that would probably end in blood.

Y/n didn’t care much about her appearence once out on the streets of Birmingham. It was near 7 o’clock, most people would be in their homes, so she didn’t really care who saw her stumble down the street. Those on the street were men getting heading to the factories or children scavenging for food. None of them would even bother to glance at her, let alone ask any questions.

Anywhere was safer than home,she repeated the words like a mantra. Over and over to help calm her down.

It was starting to get cold, a slight breeze sweeping between the buildings when Y/n came upon Polly’s house. She didn’t want to be a burden on anyone, but she was freezing and exhausted, home was far behind her and she refused to turn back. Her knuckles brushed against the door, fear bubbling up over the fact Polly might be home. After a minute or two, she heard shuffling and then the sound of a lock click before the door opened to expose the home’s owner.

“Y/n,” Polly exclaimed, looking the girl over. Shock in her eyes, she frowned. “Come inside-” she grabbed her by the arm and gently pulled her in. Once inside with the door shut behind them, Polly finally asked, “What happened?”

Y/n shook her head, not willing to expose the secret she’d kept so guarded. Polly gave her a sympathetic smile and guided her into a chair at the kitchen table. The older woman then put on a pot of water and grabbed two cups out of the cupboard.

“How long has this been going on?” she asked, pouring the hot tea into the cups.

She bit her lip, tears threatened to spill once again, taking a cup out of Polly’s outstretched hand. “A while, I guess.” A sigh escaped her after taking a sip of the warm beverage. “It’s never been this bad, though.” She choked on her words, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “But it’s always been over money.”

Polly shook her head, men were the downfall of the world. “Does Arthur know?”

“No.”

God, he was the last person she wanted to know, but the first person she wanted to run to. She couldn’t risk him seeing her in a different light, though. Seeing her as weak and small. Y/n was more than that she knew but didn’t appear that way covered in bruises. What would Arthur do anyway? He would only want to kill Jim, not what Y/n was looking for at that moment.

“Let’s clean you up, dear,” she said tenderly, reminding Y/n of her mother.

Standing up, Polly grabbed a washcloth and turned the faucet on, once tamp she wrung it out and brought it to the table. “It’s gonna sting, okay?” Y/n nodded before Polly placed the damp cloth against her skin, wiping the dried blood away. The two fell into peaceful silence before the front door opened, hitting the wall, and loud voices carried down to the kitchen.

“I don’t see why I can’t,” John grumbled loudly, entering the kitchen. He was the first to lay eyes on the pair of women, quickly falling silent. Tommy and Arthur were right behind him, bumping into their younger brother, too involved in their conversation to see what had to stop him.

“Fucking move,” Tommy shouted at him, shoving him out of the way. He was about to yell once more before his eyes fell on Y/n and the bruises that covered her face.

Then Arthur saw her.

He didn’t say anything as he looked her over. He didn’t know what to say. His eyes quickly found something else to look at as Y/n made eye contact with him. Shame and embarrassment were evident in her eyes.

“What happened?” Tommy inquired, coming closer to the table.

Polly stood, facing her nephew. “Nothing, now go. Out,” she tried to wave them out of the room.

John nodded, motioning to his brothers that he would be outside. It didn’t look like something he wanted to be involved in just yet, especially if Polly didn’t want them in the house. That woman was scary and he knew better than his brothers to make his aunt angry.

“That means you two as well,” Polly pointed at Tommy and Arthur. “Out.”

Tommy sighed and told Polly that they’d talk bout it later. “Come one, Arthur.” He patted his brother’s shoulder as he passed by him.

Arthur turned to follow his brother outside when a hand clasped around his wrist. The man turned, hair falling in front of his eyes, to see Y/n looking up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Stay. Please,” her voice was hoarse when she spoke, instantly reaching for her cup of tea when she finished.

Arthur just stood there, frozen. He had never been good with his own emotions, so how was he supposed to help someone with their own? Y/n looked like shit, worse than shit actually. But what could he do? What did she want him to do? The two were intimate but it never went further than bedroom activities. He wanted it to be more than that but she was married.

“I-I,” he stuttered, unsure of what he should be doing. Tommy gave up waiting for his brother and went out to see where John went.

Polly walked over to her nephew, handing him the washcloth. “Help clean her up, okay? She’ll be fine, you just gotta help her.”

He nodded, taking the cloth from her. Kneeling in front of Y/n, he took her hands in his and gave them a squeeze. “I got you, Y/n, I got you.”

Y/n gave him a weak smile as Polly left the room to give them some privacy. “I know.”

“Did Jim do this to you?” he asked, anger starting to build up. Arthur took a deep breath, doing his best to calm himself down. The last thing Y/n needed was for him to get angry.

She looked away, instead focusing on her cup of tea.

“It’s okay, love.” He dapped a small cut under her lip. “You should have told me.”

Leaning into his touch, she nodded. “I don’t wanna go home, Arthur. I can’t.”

His heart broke at her plea. He never wanted to hear her so broken. Y/n was always the happiest person at the shop, never had he expected her to ever be in this position. “You can stay with me if you want.”

She nodded, “I’d like that very much.”

Arthur tossed the washcloth on the table and wrapped her in an embrace, kissing her forehead. “I’ll make sure this never happens ever again.”

*~~*~~*

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aj-the-cat · 3 years

Text

Lawless

~ Chapter 2 ~ Masterlist

Word Count: 1683

Scorpion's Roost

Solidarity, Texas

(Dedicated to all 100+ followers. Enjoy!)

Undertaker left the saloon that afternoon utterly confused. What whas that cowboy doing? He didn't understand humans, ever since he turned immortal he forgot all about being one. All memories left him except one particular one. Why it stayed, he had no idea. It tormented him.

Eventually his walking led to him being inside the comfort of his funeral parlor. His gathered up thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind as he took off his hat and overcoat. A large black cat met him at the door. It was pudgy, and the look on its face resembled one an irritated human could pull. Its face was also very pudgy, and a shrill meow left its mouth to gain the attention of the tall man.

"I just got home, Paul. Settle down please. It's been a long day." Another shrill meow. "Who cares if I've been drinking?! I'm immortal, it's not gonna hurt me. Now leave me be, I want to be alone." A scoff-like noise came from the cat, then he left, his pudgy paws padding on the floorboard. "Ever since he put himself in a cat, he's been more annoying than ever, I swear." Undertaker told himself.

Sighing, Undertaker pulled off his shoes and threw them somewhere. He'll find them in the morning. His socks, belt, vest and shirt flew off somewhere as well, leaving him in just his slacks. His pale skin glowed in the moonlight from a window, as well as the mysterious patterns on his arms. Intricate demonic designs littered his arms like sleeves, stopping at his shoulders. They appeared the night he turned immortal.

Undertaker staggered a little, the whiskey in his body finally taking effect. His head buzzed. He took slow and steady steps to his bedroom, careful not to bump into any precious coffins he made. Blueprints littered the countertops everywhere, with all sorts of designs for coffins.

His staggering journey took him to his wanted destination and he flopped facedown on his bed, inhaling the scent of his own cologne and a hint of cat. 'Paul must've slept here', He thought.

Deciding not to get up, his mind wandered back to the small cowboy at the bar. He didn't understand humans and their frivolous ways. Always rubbing themselves against each other for pleasure just to end up sad and lonely afterword. Letting out a yawn, he turned himself over to stare at the ceiling, eventually falling asleep from the large amount of whiskey in his body.

*~*

Light snores escaped Undertaker's body. He seemed peaceful, until his occasional twitches turned into thrashes. Fire was all he could see. Orange flames swallowing up a house. Screams. All he could do was watch in horror as the house he grew up in was swallowed by bright flames. "Mother! Father! Kane!" His mouth moved on its own. The screams died down, until all you could hear was the crackling of the fire. Undertaker fell to his knees, helpless. He just watched his parents and brother die in a fire caused by his foolish hand.

A scream left the lips on the undead man and he flew up from his bed. Sweat and tears dripped down his body and cheeks as his breathing staggered. Undertaker gripped his head in his hands and slowed his breathing to a normal rate. He hated falling asleep. This nightmare plagued him.

After calming himself for a few minutes, Undertaker slowly got out of his bed and found his scattered clothes one by one. He placed them in a basket and went back to his bedroom. Paul, the cat, sat on his bed. "I don't need to hear anything from you." Undertaker growled out. The cat just shook his head and jumped off the bed, heading to another part of the parlor. Sighing, Undertaker grabbed clothes from his dresser and a towel and headed to the pond behind the parlor.

He stripped his pants and undergarments and padded into the cool water. The cold temperature didn't bother him. There was a bucket with cleaning supplies at the other side of the pond, but Undertaker didn't bother to grab it for right now. He wanted to relax.

*~*

After sitting in the water for a while, Undertaker decided it was time to wash himself so he moved towards the bucket. He quickly dunked his head underwater to get it wet and grabbed the shampoo, but stopped when he heard voices. 'What the fuck? This is my private pond!', he thought.

The voices grew louder and Undertaker panicked and dipped his head underwater until only his eyes and top of his head could be seen. Who needs to breathe anyways?

The cowboy and his partner appeared from the bushes surrounding the pond, followed by two other guys. They were both big and burly, but the darker haired one was just a bit shoter than the bigger blonde.

"Voila. Found it a couple weeks ago while me n' Scott were running from a sheriff. Been our secret pond since." The bigger of the four said. 'Except this is my pond and I made it myself, dick head.', Undertaker narrowed his eyes. The small cowboy scanned the pond and smiled. "Last one in is a rattlesnakes lover!" He shouted and started stripping.

Undertakers eyed widened. 'No, no no no no!' He watched in horror as the four strangers stripped to their undergarments and jumped into his pond. 'And I thought I would have a good day...' He thought. The cowboy started splashing everybody, getting lots of water on the bank and dirtying up the clean water with dirt and debris.

'That fuckin does it.' Undertaker's eyes became black. The rest of his head emerged from the water, and he focused in on the cowboy from yesterday. 'Want to intrude on my life? Fine.' His horns started to sprout, but the cowboy noticed him.

"Hey! Its the man from the bar yesterday! What are you doing in this pond?" The three other men looked to where the cowboy had pointed out. Undertaker quickly averted his eyes back to green and the horn nubs desappeared. He said nothing.

"Shawn, who's that?" The cowboy's original companion asked. The two other men stayed silent. The cowboy- Shawn -chuckled. "Just some hot guy from the bar yesterday. Surprise seeing you here! How'd you find the pond?" Shawn asked. Undertaker narrowed his eyes. "I live in the building right in front of this pond. I own it." He spat.

Shawn's eyes widened, then narrowed in confusion. "But Kev-"

"GET OUT!" Undertaker yelled. His eyes turned back to black and he stood up fully, exposing his muscular torso and marked arms. Shawn blushed.

A growl started in the throat of Undertaker, and the four outlaws panicked and scrambled over one another to try to get out and away from the demonic man in the pond. They grabbed their stuff and jumped the fence, the taller of the four accidentally knocking over Shawn's original companion in the process.

Undertaker sighed in annoyance, and his eyes slowly turned back to normal. His bath was ruined, the pond probably contaminated, and he just exposed himself to the cowboy from the bar. He mentally slapped himself and finished his washing.

*~*

Grabbing his new clothes and towel, he quickly dried himself and put on black slacks, grey dress shirt and black dress vest. He would ditch the tie and overcoat today, he planned to spend the day inside his parlor working on coffins.

He walked up the path to his parlor, making sure Paul's food bowl was filled, as well as the flower garden not trampled or littered with bugs. The daisy's were nice and fragrent, the roses with beautiful colors, snapdragons at attention, and the peonies-

"What the hell happened to my peonies?!" Undertaker exclaimed. Dirt and flowers were scattered. Boot prints led a trail to the other side of the parlor. "Somebody dug up my peonies..."

Paul stalked up and sat his pudgy body beside Undertaker. His shrill meow didn't faze Undertaker, he was too busy mourning the loss of his flowers and plotting ways to kill the flower murderer.

Undertaker kneeled down and palmed at the dug up soil, finding tiny roots from flowers and scattered petals. "I'm gonna kill whoever did this." He growled. Paul meowed and licked one his paws. Undertaker still didn't bat an eye.

Sighing, he stood back up and walked through the back door of his parlor, Paul hot on his heels. Or however fast a fat cat can keep up with a 6'10 zombie.

Inside, Undertaker threw his dirty clothes and towel in a nearby room and walked to the front doors of his parlor. 'I really don't want to open today but I guess I have to.' He thought as he opened the doors, letting mid-morning light flood his front room.

He looked around, and noticed pink on the ground. He looked, and a bad bouqet of pink peonies messily thrown together sat on the ground. The roots were still intact. Grunting, Undertaker bent down and picked up the bouqet. A messy note was attached.

'Sorry for playing in your pond. I hope these make up a good apology. - Shawn'

"I'm gonna fucking kill him." Undertaker growled. He resisted the urge to hold the flowers close, as he was in broad daylight, but he did when he turned to go back in his parlor. "Of all people, why did HE get invloved in two days worth of my life?!" He thought aloud.

Paul padded up to Undertaker and gave another shrill meow. This time, Undertaker noticed him and rolled his eyes. "No, I don't even know him. He just came up to me in the bar yesterday and tried to fraternize with me." Undertaker replied. Paul meowed harshly. "Shut up! Not like you can do anything, you're just a cat." Paul huffed, and swiped at the mans ankles.

Undertaker pulled his leg up just in time and shooed off his pesky human-like cat. Paul ran off, leaving Undertaker with his peonies and murderous thoughts.

#lawless!au #fanfiction #wwe

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Where in Fiction Would You Spend Christmas?

https://ift.tt/34FuLCB

It’s been a staying-in kind of year. That New Year’s Resolution you made to travel more? It’s gained 20 pounds, started cutting its own hair and is now in a jigsaw club with your neighbour Ken. The only marathon you’ve completed in 2020 is a Battlestar Galactica rewatch. The only mountain you’ve climbed is the metaphorical one it takes to shower daily. That beach trip you’d planned? It went okay actually. You made some bells by selling coconuts to Nook’s Cranny and dug up a bunch of Manila Clams with a flimsy shovel.

For obvious reasons, escape is on our minds this year more than most. So we started thinking, if you had your wishing socks on, where in the collected imaginations of everyone who’s ever dreamt up a film, TV show, game or book, would you spend the holidays? On the holodeck of the Starship Enterprise or roasting on an open fire with The Simpsons, exchanging gifts with Ewoks or witnessing Scrooge McDuck’s transformation from miser to philanthropist first hand?

To get things started, here’s what our writers picked…

Alec Bojalad would spend Christmas … reveling with the Sterling Cooper staff on Mad Men

If I’m to indulge this hypothetical in which I’m torn away from one reality and thrust into another, one thing is very clear: I will have to be extremely intoxicated to avoid my heart exploding from the stressful terror of it all. Thankfully, I know exactly where in pop culture to go to get absolutely blitzed: Mad Men. In terms of sheer debauchery, a Sterling Cooper Christmas party probably falls somewhere between a Bacchanalian orgy and Valhalla itself. As Don, Roger, Bert, Peggy, and company gather together to celebrate another successful year schmoozing clients and sexually harassing one another, I will don my finest 1960s attire and infiltrate the festive event.

As Don Draper wonders who this soft-bodied weirdo in an ill-fitting suit is, I’ll catch up with Harry Crane about television. Then I’ll ask to see Bert Cooper’s weird tentacle porn painting. Sometime around my 9th J&B Whisky on the rocks I’ll visit the secretarial pool and beg them to demand better treatment because “you’ree ssssooo strong and eleganttt. Don’t listen to thessseee men. They’re Mad Men.” Hopefully I’ll be taken away to an old-timey hospital at that point, given electroshock treatment, and return back to my own continuity.

Ryan Britt would spend Christmas… at Deanna and Will’s cabin from Star Trek: Picard

When Jean-Luc Picard uses the spatial projector to zap himself and Soji across the galaxy to the planet Nepethene, the result is a cozy pizza dinner with Will Riker, Deanna Troi and their daughter Kestra. For those who had been pining for more ‘90s nostalgia in this Trek series, the episode ‘Nepthene’ delivered, but with a strong shot of realism. Although Picard was written and created before the Covid-19 pandemic, the idea that Riker and Troi would leave the busy and crowded life of Starfleet, and retire in a remote cabin to protect their family is a choice many have actually faced in 2020. As people around the world have fled pandemic epicenters and tried to put shields around their own families, the peaceful and remote home of the Riker-Trois represents the optimistic ideal of Star Trek with a quiet, and very close-to-home twist.

Spending time with the Riker-Troi family would mean great conversation, great music (oh the jazz!) and, above all, great food. I would happily put my own family in their ‘pod’ if only so Kestra could teach my three-year-old daughter the best way to construct a bow and arrow, and of course, how to learn that secret language of butterflies.

Then, after the kids were in bed, having a glass of wine or some Romulan whiskey with Will out on the porch sounds pretty damn perfect. 2020 has been tough. A bear hug from Riker seems like the perfect Christmas gift of all.

Caroline Preece would spend Christmas… at The Muppet Christmas Carol’s Penguin Skating Party

Ever since young-me set eyes on the ultra-festive world of The Muppet Christmas Carol I’ve wanted to visit. I can’t imagine a better way to spend Christmas Eve than in the cuddly version of Dickens’ cautionary tale, helping Kermit and his co-workers tidy up Scrooge’s office for the holidays, dancing down the snowy London streets and attending the Penguins’ annual Christmas skating party as the ultimate topper to a perfect evening.

As well as being super-merry and joyous (‘tis the season), judging by Kermit’s performance on the ice, they let anyone take part.

It could just be the general lack of socialising and festive frivolity in 2020, but Bob Cratchit’s hopeful walk home from the office (remember the office?!?) on the night before Christmas has always epitomised the idea that the anticipation of Christmas Day is the best part. Add to that a trip to the market to pick up some singing vegetables, or the cosy Cratchit dinner with Miss Piggy and their gaggle of pig and frog offspring, and it’s a version of old-timey festive cheer that will always hold a place in my heart.

Louisa Mellor would spend Christmas… with the strippers in Hustlers

This choice won’t reflect well on me. It’s neither edifying nor improving and has a core of savage capitalist consumerism, which is probably what makes it so Christmassy. Midway through Lorraine Scafaria’s Hustlers – a film about a group of strippers who right the wrongs of the 2008 financial crisis by drugging Wall Street guys to run up their company credit cards – there’s a scene that’d make anyone’s heart grow three sizes.

A dozen lap dancers gather for Christmas in a high-end apartment, their daughters and a grandmother in tow. Dressed in luxe loungewear and chunky gold, their skin glowing like a sucked butterscotch, they swap gifts, smile and sing and dance and thank the lord for their sisters. Expensive elegance is everywhere. Someone gets a fur coat, somebody else a pair of animal-print Louboutins. The woman who dips the dancers’ tits in bowls of ice before they go on stage is given an iPhone 4. Mostly though, they give each other affirmation. Without a natural hair colour, nude fingernail or a man in sight, it’s a dream family Christmas. Picture a Norman Rockwell painting with Jennifer Lopez in gold lamé, a cashmere Santa hat and a balcony bra. Feel-good festive perfection.

Michael Ahr would spend Christmas… secluded in Hogwarts

Some may have found Harry Potter’s winter holidays without his friends rather lonely, but I can think of nothing more magical than having the vast empty halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry all to myself. Why let the staff have the warm, dry, magical snow that fell annually in the Great Hall all to themselves? Not being of school age myself anymore, I might choose to share a butterbeer (or perhaps a hot buttered rum) with Dumbledore and Hagrid by a roaring fire.

I might even be tempted to make the trip to Hogsmeade to see all the shops decked out with lights and blanketed in snow. I’d still be able to enjoy the comparative solitude without all the kids running around, but I’m almost certain there would be a group of carolers wandering about the square, never mind the singing enchanted suits of armor back at the school. And of course, if I could pick a particular present, I’d choose to receive the same amazing gift Harry received that first Christmas from Dumbledore: his father’s Invisibility Cloak. I’d likewise pass it along as a family heirloom to my own children on some Christmas morning to come.

Jamie Andrew would spend Christmas… in a Deep Space Nine Holosuite

At first, I entertained the idea of spending Christmas in Baltimore with the denizens of The Wire, mainly because I liked the idea of children running up and down the streets hollering, ‘Omar’s coming!’ moments before the shotgun-wielding Robin Hood of the Hood came swaggering down the street wearing a big red coat and a white beard, tossing out bank notes and whistling ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’. Then I realised that the chances of me ending up a corpse inside a boarded-up derelict building before the turkey was even cooked were surprisingly high, so I thought I’d try Christmas with Frasier Crane and family instead. Unfortunately, my foreknowledge of Martin’s and Eddie’s deaths would cloud the occasion, and I’d probably spend all night slumped crying in Martin’s recliner, unable to tell anyone why I was so upset without violating the temporal time directive.

Best, then, to spend Yule time on Deep Space Nine. Christianity and its associated festive traditions don’t appear to exist in the 24th Century, so after saying hello to Sisko and co., and maybe playing a bit of Dabo at Quark’s, I’d probably spend the rest of my time in a faithful Holosuite reproduction of a 1990s Irish bar on New Year’s Eve getting absolutely wasted with fellow Celt Chief O’Brien. Now THAT’S what I call Christmas.

Juliette Harrisson would spend Christmas… in Narnia

Not, of course, the White Witch’s eternal winter, when it’s always winter but never Christmas, but a regular Christmas in Narnia. It would, of course, be a white Christmas because otherwise, how would Father Christmas come and deliver presents to everyone? So I could spend the season in a snowy woodland surrounded by magical creatures, and be in with a chance of a really good present. Or possibly a sewing machine.

Movies

Why Chronicles of Narnia’s Santa Claus Celebrates Christmas with Weapons of War

By Juliette Harrisson

Movies

The Rod Serling Christmas Movie You Never Saw

By Chris Farnell

On the first moonlit night when there’s snow on the ground, Narnian fauns, dryads, and dwarfs perform the Great Snow Dance, with the fauns and dryads dancing around while the dwarfs throw snowballs that don’t hit them (an often forgotten detail from the book version of The Silver Chair!). I would join in, although possibly not throw any snowballs as my aim isn’t that good. Then I’d go back to Mr Tumnus’s for sardines and cake on Christmas Eve and talk to him about his somewhat dubious taste in books (just what is Nymphs And Their Ways about, eh Tumnus?). I’d spend Christmas Day up at the castle of Cair Paravel, eating and drinking like a Queen, and then I’d go visit Mr and Mrs Beaver on Boxing Day for a feast of leftovers and maybe a little light ice fishing.

John Saavedra would spend Christmas…celebrating Life Day with Star Wars’ Poe Dameron

No one has ever cared so much about Life Day, the Star Wars galaxy’s own version of Christmas, as much as ace pilot Poe Dameron does in the Lego Star Wars Holiday Special. From decorating the Millennium Falcon and choosing the right Life Day sweater to roasting the traditional tip-yip (also known as Endorian chicken), Poe shows there’s something much stronger than the Force in the Star Wars universe: holiday spirit. Who knew the Resistance hero best known for his knack at blowing stuff up had such a soft spot?

Hanging with Poe on Life Day would mean chestnuts roasting on an open exhaust engine, drinking whatever passes for cocoa in the Star Wars galaxy, hanging out with Wookiees on their homeworld of Kashyyyk, singing festive carols in Huttese, and finding just the right Life Day tree for the Falcon. It’d also mean dancing to the hip tunes of Max Rebo’s drum (the rest of his band is unfortunately no longer with us) and partying with Lando Calrissian, Finn, Rose, Rey, Jannah, Mon Calamari, Jawas, Rodians, Ewoks, and maybe even Chewie’s son Lumpy. If you’re not sold by now, your taste in holiday parties might be bantha poodoo.

Elizabeth Donoghue would spend Christmas…. at The Office’s Classy Christmas

Dunder Mifflin has many memorable Christmas parties, but Steve Carell’s final festive special includes some of my favourite things about The Office; weird Gabe, Michael’s enduring hatred of Toby, and Michael and Holly’s adorable relationship.

After Toby announces he is taking a leave of absence for jury duty (‘Thank you, Scranton Strangler. I love you. You just took one more person’s breath away’) Michael learns that Holly will be returning to Scranton and demands that Pam’s regular Christmas party must get classy. What makes a Christmas classy? A backwards Kangol-esque Santa hat, a red velvet smoking jacket and a quarter of a jazz quartet of course.

I would actively enjoy watching Dwight take down Jim in their snowball fight (total bully, needs to be taken down a peg or two), get drunk with Kelly and Meredith, dance with Phyllis and Erin and learn more about the enigma that is Creed. And although it is slightly more subdued than their Benihana and Moroccan Christmas parties, I’m sure we could keep the party going at a Poor Richard’s after-party.

Kayti Burt would spend Christmas … on Themyscira

The Amazons’ decision to opt out of the “Patriarch’s World” has always been a relatable one, but never so much as in The Year 2020. Historically, I’m not really a beach person, but Themyscira, aka Paradise Island, has a lot going for it: warm weather, a supportive community, and live sporting events where you don’t have to worry about some drunken dudebro spilling cheap beer on your toga.

As far as I can tell from the Wonder Woman movies, no one (besides Young Diana, who’s usually working through some stuff) ever seems to be having a bad time on Themyscira. And why would you? The pre-Crisis comics incarnation of the island (which I am going to choose to accept as my holiday canon) includes indigeneous kangaroo-like creatures called Kangas that the Amazons ride like horses. Diana’s is called Jumpa; mine will be called Jimmy Hoppa, and we will explore the island’s cascading waterfalls and cliffside terraces together. In the evenings, I will attend performances at the Themysciran amphitheater with my new Amazonian friends or, if I’m feeling introverted, catch up on my book reading and crossword puzzles.

Listen, I wouldn’t want to spend forever on Themyscira—I’d miss my friends, family, and TV shows (Themyscira doesn’t seem to get a good wireless signal)—but a few weeks (or months, especially as I will be quarantining for my first two weeks) for Christmas 2020? Bring me to the enchanted feminist utopia.

Alana Joli Abbott would spend Yule… at the coven house from the Nightcraft Quartet

Witchkind, as presented in Shannon Page’s Nightcraft Quartet, don’t celebrate Christmas, but they do love a good Yuletide celebration. Page’s witches and warlocks are separate from humans, long lived, and magical. Young witches train in the magical arts at a coven house, living there like a dorm; the adult women of the coven (always numbering thirteen) may be involved in scientific research (like protagonist Callie), medicine and healing, or reading Tarot, and they teach their specialties to the young witches. The coven house is a central place where women gather to live, to practice magic together, to celebrate, and to honor traditional rituals. While Callie’s coven in San Francisco has their problems, the community there is caring and genuine, full of both youthful energy and centuries of experienced witchery.

One of the perks of editing this series is that I get sneak peeks into parts of the story readers haven’t seen yet—including Yule decorations. Rather than cutting down dead trees, witches coax living fir boughs to weave along the walls and mantles, accented with red ribbon and gold—coins, beads, chains. I can imagine the cozy San Francisco coven house filled with witches all rushing to perform their tasks to make the perfect celebration, some of them convincing the fir boughs to expand in just the right ways while others brew hot chocolate or prepare the feast. I picture them eating in the large hall, voices lifted in joyful chatter, and then making their way out to the grounds beyond the house to celebrate beneath the stars, singing midwinter songs and looking forward to the next year. After months of 2020 with smaller communities and less human contact, being surrounded by such a vibrant, magical group of women sounds like just the right way to end my year.

Rosie Fletcher would spend Christmas… with the Roy family from Succession

Go hard or go home, they say, so since I can’t go home this year, I’m going round the Roys. That is, of course, the family at the centre of Succession, a show peopled by the very wealthiest and utterly worst. Festivities would be held at the home of patriarch Logan Roy. His children and their partners would be obliged to attend. Logan would hire a chef to cook, waiting staff to serve, some of whom he would abuse. I would give them sympathetic “I’m sorry” looks but do nothing, secretly thankful Logan’s ire wasn’t focused on me.

In all likelihood I would be a figure like Greg (the egg), or Tom Wambsgans – mostly tolerated, vaguely despised and very much the second class citizens of the Roy clan, skulking on the periphery as Kendall, Roman and Shiv compete for Logan’s love and oldest son Connor comes up will another entirely ridiculous life plan – I dunno, maybe this year he’s decided that his next career move is to become Santa Claus.

The food would be extraordinary. The booze the very finest – how long before, like Greg, I would be claiming the bottle of vintage rose champagne I had just motored through was ‘not my favourite’? And the dinner table conversation would be electric. Electric like an electric shock – sharp, painful, disorientating, unexpected.

So Christmas has become too commercialised? Fine, fuck it. I’ll take the eye-wateringly expensive gift that’s grudgingly bestowed on me, I will gorge on the finest cheeses known to man and coat my tongue with port made from molten rubies, knowing I am on my way to moral bankruptcy and doing it anyway. Go hard or go home…

Kirsten Howard would spend Christmas… singing along in the closing moments of Scrooged

You’d be hard-pressed to find a Christmas movie that feels as genuinely uplifting during its climax as 1988’s Scrooged. Bill Murray’s arrogant TV boss Frank Cross, having been visited by the Ghosts of Christmases Past, Present and Future, disrupts a live broadcast of A Christmas Carol to rant openly and honestly at the cast and crew (and eventually you) as he makes a passionate case for a life less invested in exploitation and capitalism, and eventually kicks off a collective singalong of Annie Lennox and Al Green’s version of ‘Put a Little Love in Your Heart’.

That’s where I’d like to be this Christmas. Not just to sing along with Bill, but to be around people immediately swept along by the much-less-explored altruistic route of ‘no fucks given’.

Also hanging out with Bill Murray, though, of course.

So much of the last few years has been a public race to the bottom of Nothing Matters Mountain, but even if it hadn’t all been so demoralising and forced so many of us to reevaluate our priorities, Frank’s message of redemption in love and living as well as we can, while shrugging off our own heavy expectations of success, still feels really special.

This Christmas, there is light at the end of the tunnel. We may not be able to grab the nearest stranger and sing “put a little love in your heart!” at them right now, but we CAN carry that feeling with us into 2021. As Frank says: “There are people who are having trouble making their miracle happen”. We can always try and find time to stop focusing on our own for a while and to help them.

David Crow would spend Christmas… chilling with Harold and Kumar

Not many people are aware of this, but A Very Harold and Kumar Christmas is the best Harold and Kumar. It may not have the pop culture cache of their medicinal-fueled quest for mini-cheeseburgers, but it does have something very special, indeed: Wafflebot. If you’ve had the misfortune of living your life oblivious to Wafflebot’s existence, allow me to introduce you to a greater world of wonder and magic.

Wafflebot is the best Christmas present to ever come out of Santa’s Workshop. Displaying an eerily sophisticated artificial intelligence for a toy meant only to cook delicious breakfasts, Wafflebot can make you waffles any time by just popping the top and letting that batter drop. But he can also do so much more! Vaguely aware of the concept of friendship, this brunching Frankenstein can learn how to love and appreciate his owners… and defend them from any threat with scalding hot projectile syrup!

With the ability to serve breakfast, save your life, be manipulated into dangerous attack mode, and learn how to see the real you, all while playing a mean drum solo, Wafflebot would make any Christmas a sweetly warm experience. And then Harold and Kumar, and I could also steal a Christmas tree from NPH or something.

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belladonnaappreciation · 4 years

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Blake Belladonna and Myself.

Here’s the thing. I’m gonna tell you a bit about some semi dark times in my life. So, Trigger warnings are applied here for those that suffer or have suffered from Physical, Mental, Emotional, and Sexual abuse from a partner or parental figure. And hopefully that will shed some light on what I am going to say about my connection to my favorite RWBY character. Blake Belladonna.

When I was about two years old my parents divorced. My mother had met this man by the name of Robert Domin. They got married and as a two year old I was excited to have a dad again. Seeing as my actual dad was not allowed to see me at the time due to my mothers manipulative tactics and managing to get a stronger custody hold on us than she should have. So this man, Robert Domin, He seemed like the greatest father figure alive. I looked up to this man until I was about 5 years old. That man went from what I thought was a blessing..... to a wolf in sheeps clothing. My mother often had to work a tad later than he did. She worked at a bank and actually did an amazing job. So she was often stuck working later. Rob would get my brother in the shower and when he got out I was next. He would wait until he heard the water running, since we were 5 and 6 we had to leave the door open just in case something happened there was no chance of it being locked, after I had began getting in the shower he would creep into the room without saying anything and approach me. I don’t know the reason..... nor do I think I ever will...... But he would grab me by the arm and proceed to spank me as hard as he could several times. Now, spankings. Not the worst thing. But he would do it until I was unable to sit down without feeling like I had knives in my rear. (Attempted to say that as humorlessly as I could.But feel free to laugh at the other ways I could have said it.) And this went on for the next 4 and a half years. My mother never caught on because I would often hide the pain or just flat out run away to dress myself whenever she was home. Jump ahead to 10 year old me. Despite the traumas left behind by Robert I was excelling at school. I loved books and had actually begun the Harry Potter series.

I thoroughly enjoyed the series! I wanted to grow up to be as sassy as Snape, as Brave as Harry. and as Courageous as Harry. I had good friends and things were..... happy. Aside from the man I still had to come home to after school. Fortunately we moved to Jacksonville, Florida. He decided to divorce my mother because he did not want to move to Florida. I had thought that things were finally going my way. Until I found out my mom had been seeing a man by the name of Douglas Humphrey. Now here’s the trip. Amazing at first. He took us mudding in a big old truck and with a couple of four wheelers! It was awesome! We watched NASCAR together, we went and saw the 3rd spider-man movie in theaters together! But it didn’t last long. I had broken my foot while playing around with my brother but he had told me it wasn’t broken. To walk it off. My mother wanted me to go to the hospital but he wouldn’t let her take me. When she tried to leave anyways he got scary..... I spent 4 DAYS crawling around the house and limping with tears in my eyes at school. I kept telling everybody I was fine at school. But finally my mom had him take me to the hospital because it got to the point where I couldn't even walk on it without crying. The doctors took X-rays and found I had a break in between my big toe and what I call the index toe. I’m sure there’s a name for it but that’s what I call it. The doctors had to do whats called “resetting” because my food had actually partially healed. But it was very much so incorrect. They had to break my foot again. And this time it hurt worse. When I cried, as all kids would, He smacked me upside the head and told me to “Man up”. That was the first time he had hit me. And it.... gave me a feeling of impending doom. I was terrified that he was gonna turn out to be just like Rob. And I can say that I was wrong..... He was worse. Not only did he let his children walk all over us and do whatever they wanted to us. But he would punish my brother and I for retaliating. He would push us, choke us, he even held us while his children would hit us. He would physically abuse our own mother in front of us.He caused my mother and my Aunt to turn on each other..... I had to save my mothers life from my aunt. My brother managed to get her outside and I went and helped my mother up and locked her and myself in the bathroom..... She had a broken nose.... several cuts and gashes all over her face. Our living room was a literal bloody crime scene. It looked like somebody DIED in there. I had to lie to child protective services. I HAD TO DENY MYSELF AN ESCAPE FROM AN ABUSIVE ENVIRONMENT. Because if I had left.... I’m pretty sure he would have killed my mother.... I was thankfully removed from that situation and sent to live with my grandmother back home in Illinois. Then proceed the best years of my life. I finally met my best friend. Was the guy that a lot of people avoided. But those who did interact with me either loved me or hated me. And.... I felt normal. I FELT SAFE for once in my life.

Fast forward to age 19. I’ll keep this one a bit shorter. I was in a semi-broken home living with my mother once again. Except there wasn’t any man trying to hit me. Or abuse me. A guy who was a bit of an ass hole but relatively harmless none the less was there instead. I had two baby sisters who I love so very much and are my best friends to this day. My mother and I got into a fight about money and she kicked me out. I wound up living on the streets. I thankfully had a job. But would constantly be found couch surfing or sleeping either inside a McDonald, which I had to buy something every couple hours to not be kicked out, or I would be sleeping under a highway bridge near my job. I met a guy who was really sweet. He said he wanted to fix the injustices that had been done to me. Just to clarify I am Bi-sexual. But I avoid men romantically for reasons you are about to learn. He sought to right the wrongs and love me for me. He wanted to help me heal. My traumas. My scars. My past. He made me feel..... whole. To this day I can’t recall his last name. But his first name haunts me. ad I hadn’t realized just how much until I met a particular character in RWBY.

ADAM. The fall of beacon hurt. But the part that hurt the most wasn’t Ruby losing two friends. It wasn’t Penny. It wasn’t Pyrrah. It was Adam. Fucking. Taurus. I couldn’t recall previous mentions of his name from earlier in the show. But Blake catching sight of him as he butchered Yang at the end of Volume 3. The terror in Blake's eyes struck a very personal chord with me. I have seen Adam after he and I have gone our separate ways..... and it truly is that terrifying.

My heart sank. You could hear the despair filling her soul. And it hurt me. My anxiety was at a high and honestly..... Hearing her say his name..... Adam... It terrified me. Adam Taurus represented everything I HATED about my Adam. The lies.... manipulation..... the mental and emotional abuse. Admittedly I had written Blake off as the stereo typical moody, edgy, goth teen character. Because I had neglected to watch trailers for anyone except Ruby. I was certain Ruby Rose was going to be my favorite because she was fun and exciting and bad ass. But I would only be proven wrong in time.

Come Volume 6. Learning more about Blake’s past and her struggle with Adam. Her demons haunting her constantly. We all know why she ran. And why she feels the need to take on Adam alone. But you can see during their whole fight. She not fighting to beat him. She is NOT fighting to best her abuser. She is fighting to SURVIVE against someone she knows she could not beat on her own. But she still feels as though she HAS to try. Because this is HER battle. This is HER demon. She does not even register the idea of asking Yang for help. And this.... also hit home very hard. I have been struggling with my demons for years. Not letting anyone in to understand them. Until I met my current group of friends. one of which is here on tumblr. And she helped me realize why I love Blake so much. ( @songbirdforever ) Blake realizing she could let people in and help her with this fight.... It helped me open up more to the people I care about.

Much like when Blake is able to set her fears aside and show a resolve unlike anything she has put forward with Yang being there. She gains the will to fight her demon. Yang, her friend, being there. Even though Blake did not tell her she needed her. And that Blake did not WANT her to be there out of fear of Yang getting hurt. She didn’t have a choice. She knew Yang would never leave her until she knew she was safe.

Blake's Demon had already lashed out and maimed a loved one (Yang) once already. And seeing that same loved one face her demons with a resolve that she could not bring to muster up herself gave her a reason to stand firm. To stay her ground and tell him that she is not afraid anymore. Together. Blake and Yang kill Adam. Almost in mental synchronization they know what each other needs to succeed. This is a bond forged in fires that were kept by the demons of the past and fueled by scars.

This is why I love her so much. She has not only shown me that it’s okay to not be able to fight your demons on your own. That sometimes you lose the struggle and cave.... But whether you know it or not.... someone sees your struggle. And there is going to be that one person that will always be there for you whether you want them to be or not. In your darkest hour the person you need will find their way to you and help you fight these battles. The victim turned victor.

She has found someone she can confide in.... and someone who can help her heal. And it makes me so happy. In conclusion.... Blake's demons and my demons share a scary amount of beats. Including the point of us both being mentally and emotionally tortured by a man named Adam. A man who promised us safety and love. A man who betrayed us and only when we were all but destroyed did we manage to escape.

She found her Happiness. And I hope to one day be in the same light that she is. Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this. I hope this explains why I have absolutely nothing but love for Blake Belladonna and can even see myself in her. As well as my undying support for the bees. This post is.... a lot more personal than I ever thought I would have gotten on this sight. But I couldn’t fully express my love and identification of this character without telling you what I have. And if any of you ever need an ear... I am always here to listen. I love you all. And I want you all to know you have a friend in me. Now I end this post with a question: Is there a character in the world of remnant that you find yourself identifying with? Why? BONUS BLEP:

#RWBY #rwby7 #rwby spoilers #blakebelladonna belladonnaappreciation ifuckinglovethischaractersomuchyoudontevenknow #belladonnaappreciation #blep bumblb bumblebee thebees iloveyouall

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omgokiguess · 4 years

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wow guys i just got out of rehab today

first of all. it was so terrible except for some of the people there. but also a couple of the people there really sucked too.

the staff was TERRIBLE. they were literally so mean and power hungry. i was friends with basically every patient (except for the few shitty ones) and was really nice to them.... like i took in this innocent 20yo girl who started calling me her big sister and i helped this 21yo girl so much with her anxiety..... like i took care of everyone that i could and i stuck up for everyone that the staff treated like shit. and the staff was so fucking rude to me. the whole staff said so many times “we have no problem giving you extra phone time/computer time to take care of things like work, aftercare, legal problems, financial problems, etc” but literally every single time i asked to call work or call my lawyer or anything i got a no. it literally took me two full weeks to get things straightened out with exelon and i literally got let go from anthro because they would just not let me get on the phone so that’s cool. i never once was able to speak to my lawyer or my pre-trial officer. neat. also i got in a pretty heated fight with this one bitch employee who told me i was disrespectful because i asked her superior to open the laundry room for me because i had my period and needed new underwear out of the dryer. we were like screaming at each other and she ended up being sent home for four days. two guys actually ended up leaving randomly and left all their shit including their phones and wallets. that’s how bad the staff was.

the doctor was really good and knowledgeable and helpful and i really liked him. he was really chill. but i do have to say he really was pushing meds on not just me but everyone. i didn’t get on any meds though, and honestly one of the nurses congratulated me for not getting on meds when i left. i thought it was fucked up that i was the only person not on meds. we’re just alcoholics.... there’s no way we’re all fucking psychotic or something. nobody was on less than 2 meds besides me and i would say the average number of different meds was about 4 for somebody my age.

the staff just really frustrated me. it’s rehab so obviously there are a lot of rules for the sake of having rules and i honestly did not have a problem with the rules even though a lot of them were very silly. like you would not find me complaining about the unhealthy food, the fact that they said the gym would be open certain hours but was actually never open because they were “understaffed,” that our bathrooms were locked from 7:30am - 9:30pm and 25 people had to share two toilets, that there were essentially no covid-19 precautions, that somebody checked where i was every 15 minutes, that smoking a pack of cigarettes a day is okay but the juul is not, that i had to get the actual doctor to approve me using contact solution or allergy medication, or any other stupid thing they enforced. i literally only complained about the fact that i couldn’t talk to my employer(s), couldn’t talk to my lawyer, couldn’t talk to my pre-trial officer, couldn’t figure out my aftercare, couldn’t call my therapist, and that the staff spoke to me like i was either an idiot, a delinquent, or like i was a bitch.

i did put up one little stink though. this bitch that worked there, if we were in our rooms, when she checked on us she didn’t knock she just fucking opened up the door, so i decided to just chill in my room and read in the nude one day cause i knew she would just open the door without knocking... and wouldn’t it be fun for her to have to deal with the sight of my entire bush..... so i went for it lmao. she told the entire staff that she walked in on me LOL and the “director of operations” (this woman is truly a dumb cunt) asked my roommate, who was a 45 year old MD from lake forest, if she wanted to switch roommates (???) and dr. nancy my hero was like “um no i actually lucked out with erin and also diana should learn to knock.”

anyway, nancy and brittany my two fave people, left on the same day which really sucked but whatever. then sam left which also whatever... i loved her too. and then..... oh god i hate to admit this so much.... but then michael came in. he made it in 3-ish days before i left.

i literally have NO IDEA why this would be, but okay the protocol is before you go to rehab you go through alcohol detox in the hospital, so i was an inpatient in the hospital for 5 days. i slept through most of that because they put me on valium for those 5 days so that I wouldn’t experience the hells of alcohol withdrawal. i’m glad i was asleep for most of it though because there was nothing at all to do, they had like 3 different crossword puzzles and no TV but as it turns out..... i wasn’t in the alcohol detox section of the hospital.... for some reason they put me in the psychotic wing..... there were only 6 patients total in that wing and i was the only person living in reality. one woman escaped the hospital because she thought her husband was telling her to leave, and the other 4 men were handcuffed to their beds. i was the only person in there with any sense of reality, and i had gotten there in the middle of the night so i was unaware of other wings in the hospital. on my last night there, they moved me to “2 north” aka the normal alcohol detox wing, which probably had 100 people in it. so in the morning we all had breakfast together and i was like WHAT THE HELL..... I COULD HAVE MADE FRIENDS HERE.... and that’s when i met michael. i knew him for like a full 90 minutes total in inpatient but we were literally instant best friends. we met because some old men were telling me jokes trying to get me to laugh and he was sitting nearby and he was like “so how old are you like 35?” and i was like “you’ve got to be kidding me fuck you....” and he was like “yeah lol i’m kidding” and i was like playing back, like “so how old are you like 45?” cause he looked about 30 and he was like “yes” and i was like okay bullshit so he showed me his hospital band and it said 45..... and i was like okay this is ridiculous. anyway he had been to the rehab i was going to before so he told me about it and he gave me a note for sam and i just thought he was really cool. he was getting ECT treatments which is “a treatment most commonly used in patients with severe major depression or bipolar disorder that have not responded to other treatments. ECT involves a brief electrical stimulation of the brain while the patient is under anesthesia.” aka it’s literally where they put those diodes on your brain and shock you. he got 16 treatments. i thought he might end up back in rehab with me. but he spent like 2 full months in inpatient which is super abnormal, almost everyone is there for exactly 5 days like me. anyways

so michael shows up right before i leave and the big question is WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME...... i spent like 3 days with him nonstop and we can probably all see where this is going but.... this dumbass of course falls for him....???? there were some cuties in rehab and i had NO INTEREST in any of them but idk michael is just kind of.... the personality i’ve been looking for.

couple problems. 1. i have a boyfriend. 2. michael is 5′6″ .... (???) .... 3. i cannot get his fucking stupid smile out of my head and i’m hoping i was just sexually deprived for weeks and this is just a dumb thing BUT

idk my boyfriend like made all these promises of things he was going to do for me while i was in rehab and he kind of didn’t follow through on any of them. i really basically only told him and my sister that i’m going to rehab and my sister lives in boston and so i kind of assumed he would do the things he promised he would do, which clearly was stupid on my part. i can’t rely on him. i should have learned that by now... if i want something done i have to do it myself. i didn’t even ask very much of him. he basically promised four things. 1. he would take care of my guinea pigs. 2. he would check on my car to be sure it doesn’t get impounded 3. he would clean my room before i get back and 4. he would bring me the stuff i need (contact lenses to fucking see, hairbrush, tampons, other necessities) since they wouldn’t let me leave hospital care between detox and rehab. the only one of those he did was take care of my guinea pigs, which is essentially nothing because he goes to whole foods every day and his MAID cleaned their cage.

and idk, we were allowed 10 minutes of combined computer and phone time a day (which is literally nothing), and i always called him and ignored the computer because i thought he would want to hear from me and i would want to hear from him too, but at least 30% of the time i left phone time upset and crying. i mean i was turning my whole entire life around and it took him 13 days just to check to see that my car wasn’t impounded, and he had the audacity to complain that he was overwhelmed with all the stuff he had to deal with on my behalf even though it was literally just feeding my guinea pigs and then he had his own work shit. i suspect he’s taking more adderall than he should again. but i can’t even complain. his dad found the lawyer that may end up saving my life.

and anyway. he never ended up cleaning my room (he wasn’t even gonna clean it himself, he was going to hire someone to clean it and he couldn’t even do that even though he promised. i don’t need it i just kind of thought he was gonna keep his promise), and it took him 5 days to bring me the stuff i need. i kept in one pair of dailies for 5 days (i wore my last pair over from detox) and went blind for 2 days. my rehab was only 20 minutes from his house, a straight shot on the never-crowded 294. i left him with all of my debit cards and pins too, and bank logins so that he wouldn’t have to pay for anything i needed.

and idk then when i talked to him, whenever i complained about rehab he would just kind of be like “this is why you should have gone to PSI” which is where he went to rehab for marijuana.... which costs and arm and a leg because his dad will pay for anything for him and he doesn’t understand that i’m paying for this myself. and i didn’t want some cushy rehab. i mean yeah i didn’t want the staff to be such a load of cunts but i didn’t want his cushy frilly rehab experience. i would have really liked my program if there had just been better people working there. and he wanted to talk about my sobriety so much and like.... i don’t want to talk about it with him. idk in his head i think he thinks i’m taking his exact same journey and like i’m NOT. like it’s not even the same drug. he acts like he totally understands and it’s like... yes there is a lot he understands but there’s a lot that’s different and there’s no way ANY two patients ever went through the exact same thing, ESPECIALLY when it’s different drugs!!!!

and i’ve been with him since about 1p today (he was late to pick me up, it was supposed to be noon, which he promised he wouldn’t be late, and him being late was also something i brought up a lot in rehab because it caused me so much stress..... i just KNEW he was gonna be late and it caused me a lot of anxiety and i told him this so much and he was still late) (and anyway the point here is).... i’ve been with him since 1 and he just keeps saying weird stuff about alcohol. which is EXACTLY why i didn’t want anybody to know i was going to rehab. like after eating hospital food for weeks i wanted to go to a nice restaurant and most nice restaurants serve alcohol.... which is FINE like i was not gonna drink.... but he kept saying things like “we probably shouldn’t go to a pub” or “lake forest food and wine hmm better not go there” and it’s like..... i’m fucking HUNGRY i purposely didn’t eat the hospital food because i wanted to eat good food and it took us till 2:30pm to get somewhere because he felt the need to beat around the alcohol bush.... and every time alcohol came up in conversation (which just HAPPENS because that is how life is....) he’d be like oh sorry shouldn’t mention that and it’s like I CAN HANDLE IT..... i literally finally said to him “wow I’m so glad I didn’t tell anyone i went to rehab because if everybody talked to me the way you’re talking to me that would make me want to drink”

and also right before i went to rehab i told him i was afraid i wasn’t going to like him anymore if i was sober. and boy was i right. and adding michael in did not fucking help. i told myself i would never like somebody fucking shorter than me but i can’t fucking help it. i’ve never liked people for their looks anyway and his personality is just fucking perfect. i can’t get his voice and his smile out of my head. and i trust him to be sober. i really do. this was his first relapse in five years, and he only spent one month drinking before getting help. and i think we could be sober together.

idk maybe i was just so sex deprived that i was just horny or something. i don’t know.

i start online intensive outpatient tomorrow at noon. this week i have it wednesday thursday and friday but it’s gonna be different every week and somebody is going to at least speak with me every day. i’m doing it through derek’s practice and i told him to make sure i have a lot of homework.

i’m not sure how or when i’m going to get back to work. i don’t even really care though. i can always get another job. and after talking to my sister and working through some therapy at rehab, i almost think it’s best to move anyway. i think it would really help me to get away from my parents.

idk. my life is just so in limbo right now. i can stay on FMLA leave for 3 months and on my upcoming court date, that will mark one month. i think it might be wise to use the whole three months. it also might not be wise though because i need things to do. maybe if i could just get back to anthro.....

anthro terminated me in the weirdest way and i think my lawyer can get my job at anthro back for me with a simple letter. that might be the best thing for me right now.

not to mention.... i haven’t been back to my apartment yet but.... the gold coast has been destroyed. i don’t know what i’m going back to at this point. this is really sad sad sad to say but i don’t think i will be living downtown chicago anymore, once i find some other solution or once this lease expires, i’m leaving. maybe i’ll stay in chicagoland but probably not. if i do stay in chicagoland i’m gonna be living in the suburbs. but i think it only makes sense to get out of here. i think it makes sense to go to the southeast. florida or atlanta or north carolina or virginia. california is always on the mind too but to move there i think i need to be really really confident in my sobriety.

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burnitdownsasha · 5 years

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A Ring On It (S.R.) [Ch. 2]

A/N: so I decided to make this into a series. hehe (not my gif)

I took last week as an opportunity, instead of taking offense. I had a word in the office of McMahon and started the beginning of something bigger. All I had to do now was rake in the glory I was going to receive.

It was now Monday and I had been scheduled for a match with Becky Lynch. All it was supposed to be was a friendly match. Right?

It was the middle of the night and some matches had already taken place. I stood near Hunter and Vince making small adjustments to how tonight would go. There were only four people aware of how the show would take place. Two of them are sitting right in front of me, while the other was on their way to where I stood.

My music hit and I made my way through the curtain selling myself as the hottest commodity in the whole company. I made the fans behind the barricade wish they were close to anything like me. My new gear sparkling under the lights and the ramp flickering beneath my feet.

“From (YHT) Y/N!”

I paced the ring, stretching myself out hoping for a fight. Becky’s music set off and her fiery shown as she walks out. The crowd feeding into her natural attraction. I smile at her the whole time as she's making her way into the ring. We walk up to each other and bump fists as the bell rings.

The lock up is an intense test of strength between us. I shove her away from me and ruffle my hair. A smirk finds its place on her fair colored face. We grapple again and before I know what's happening Becky takes me down with my back on the mat. “What the hell,” I shout as she rolls me up for a pin. I kick out and push her onto the mat. She grabs at her back where she hit the mat and I aggressively grab her hair pulling her up to her feet.

Again I shove her away from me looking around at the crowd. I give them all my cockiest grin before slapping Becky across the face. Everyone shouts and gasps even Becky. The contact of skin on skin was so loud that it could be heard all over the arena. Becky sat on holding her face in utter disbelief. I stooped to the level she never thought someone like me would.

Someone like me. Loyal. Trustworthy. A friend.

I didn't want to be those things anymore. I wanted the title. Whether it was me saying that or my character. I no longer knew. But what I did know is that I was tired of being looked over and ignored.

I pounced and threw flying fists at her while she tried to block her face. I kept on going and going not giving a damn that the bell had rung. Finally the ref pulled me off of Becky and held me back from reaching her. “Raise my hand,” I demanded the referee. He shook his head no.

“You didn't win Y/N, you were disqualified.” I snarled walking away from him. I lifted my arms up wanting the crowd to rain on me. Instead they wanted to rain on my parade. Boos from left and right because I had attacked their hero. Well somebody had to do it. I gracefully exited the ring and walked up the ramp watching Becky whine in pain at the center of the ring. Every step on took from then on was a step towards redemption.

Hunter was the first face I met walking through the guerrilla. “Good job kid, way to sell.” I thanked him about to leave. “Yeah Y/n. Was starting to think you were never going to pull through,” Vince laughed. I just smiled briefly and walked towards the locker room.

About half way there and then-

“Hey.”

I came to an abrupt stop. I would have literally been okay with seeing anyone else right now that the person stood in front of me. I turned around to see if there was anyone else behind me and I just happened to be in the crossfire.

Nothing.

“Seth, hi. Did you need something?” I was as bland and simple as could be. My shorts were now chaffing and I really did not want to have this conversation. He looked over his shoulder and mine for whatever reason. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. You know after everything that Vince said on TV last week.”

The high that I gained from my unfinished match was now gone. Completely down the drain. “Yeah I'm good. Part of the job right?” I quickly made my way past him. I felt my heart racing like it was going to burst right out of my chest. Why?

I changed into something a lot more casual and comfy to go and get some food in catering and watch the rest of the matches. I grabbed a plate of everything and sat down next to Bayley at one of the round tables. “Hey hugger. Oh god no please don't hug me,” Bayley laughed as she unwrapped her arms from around me. “I saw you and Seth talking in the hall. Anything interesting?”

I shrugged shoving a piece of cheesecake into my mouth. “Nah not really. Is that Drew?”

I was basically oogling the man on the monitor. He was tall piece of man that I could never get myself to make conversation with for my life. Bayley grabbed my chin and pushed it up and down to help me chew. “Yes keep eating your food! He’s in the main event with Seth tonight,” she cut a piece of my cake with her fork.

I slid the plate between us so she could get more. “Of course. The curse I cannot escape.” Bayley chuckled keeping her eyes on the screen. “You know if you would have stopped being so chicken maybe you guys would still be together.”

“Oh shut it.”

Seth and I didn't break up for no reason. The whole thing was actually a valid point for him to leave me behind. He wanted commitment and one day a family. While I didn't know what I wanted yet.

I didn't even have the thought of children in my mind. Only my career lingered in my brain. I do- did have very strong feelings for Seth but I didn't have time to worry about a relationship or being engaged. That’s what he had Becky for now. The night went on and at about eight thirty or so everyone started packing up and heading out to the next city. I was riding with Bayley so she was probably going to be the one to drive.

“Y/N wait before you leave.” I looked over to Hunter waving me over. I told Bayley I would be a minute. She gave me a thumbs up and started loading her stuff into the back.

I followed Hunter over to the hall back inside. “So we are adding to your storyline alright? You are going to be involved in something with Becky and Seth so we are going to add a male counterpart on your side. You will be attending ringside next week at Drews match.” I nearly choked.

“You’ll walk out with him and act like he's the dreamiest man you've ever seen in wrestling tights. Sound good? Just a little romance to get things heated,” I just nodded with a stiff face. “Alright see you at the house show tomorrow kid.”

I walked back to the car with a slump in my step. How embarrassing was this? Was my crush on Drew that obvious. It had to be, because he chose him for a reason. I feel like such a dweeb right now. “You are not going to believe this.”

“You're escorting Drew out next week.” I jumped and turned in the passengers seat. Bayley did nothing but smile. “How did you know?”

Her face distorted into something guilty and she shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I may have mentioned a thing or two about how you may or may not admire Drew, to Hunter.”

“BAYLEY!”

“Im sorry okay! You aren't initiating anything so I had to do something,” she shouted,” I know you said you don't want anything on the road but would it kill you to have some fun? I’m not saying you have to marry the guy.”

I got comfy in my seat realizing Bayley is only trying to help. She's a good friend and I guess I should take her advice. Who knows maybe this storyline thing might just help boost everything else.

“Thanks Huggsalot, love you.”

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

Taglist: @queenofthearchitect @baysexuality @snowxbarryxendgame @starrynight23 @tori-banks

#WWE Story #wwe series #seth rollins imagines #seth rollins x reader #Seth rollins #Bayley #becky lynch imagine #burnitdownsasha

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enigmasalad · 5 years

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Falling Apart

(Inspired by @sugarglider9603 ‘s and @galaxy-lilies-main spiderverse au and an ask on it saying if virgil died what if roman became a villain. WARNINGS: Mentions of explosions, graphic things, murder, loss and mind control. )

Have you ever seen anyone fall apart? Roman has, and what a tragic, gruesome event it was. Roman remembers the day clearly. Spidergale and Royal Slinger were called to an emergency revolving around the subways. No one knew what it was, just that they had to get there quick. So here Roman was, swinging from building to building with the love of his life to save civilians once again and please their fan base. “Whoever rescues the most people or stops the situation first will get to choose where we go for date night. How about that Gale?” Roman proposed as he swung forward. Virgil chuckled and swung in time with Roman. God Roman could never get over that laugh. “You’re on Slinger. Prepare to eat at Petrov’s.” Virgil remarked with his signature sass. “But we always go there!” Roman whined. “I like Russian food okay? Don’t judge!” Before Roman could remark again, they heard people screaming. In an instant, both stuck to the side of a building to observe what they were up against. People were pouring out of the subway entrance. That’s when they heard someone scream “It’s a bomb!” Great. Roman fucking hated bombs. The two heroes rushed into the subway station. Following the path where people were running from, they easily found the subway stop that they needed to go to. “Fuck.” There was a whole subway filled with people, screaming and banging on the windows to escape. As they could see, the doors had a strange bomb stuck on it, sealing the poor passengers inside. “Alright Slinger we need to break the windows and start getting people out! Why don’t you start on that while I defuse this son of a bitch?” “Copy that Gale.” Roman hurried to a window farther away from the bomb. With a punch the glass shattered into a million pieces. “Never fear, Royal Slinger is here! And Gale.” “Fuck you.” Virgil grumbled, examining a wire. Roman smirked for a millisecond before addressing the passengers. “I need you to be as calm and orderly as you can while Spidergale stops that bad boy. No pushing, shoving or sudden movements okay?” Once he was sure everyone was on the same page he started helping them out. Once they were out he instructed them to run like hell, which they of course did. Roman was in the muddle of helping an elderly woman out when he heard Virgil make an ‘aha!’ noise. “The bomb’s defused but I don’t know for how long. There’s a possibility its remote controlled.” He said. “Meaning?” Roman asked just to make sure. “Meaning we should try to haul ass.” Roman put a business man onto the platform while Virgil began to help people out as well. Roman helped a pizza guy onto the platform as Virgil went to the last people, a woman and her baby. “C’mon Miss. I’ll help you guys out.” “Oh thank you Gale!” Roman was about to turn back to the platform when his Spidey sense started tingling. Uh oh, it was behind him. Roman seemed to turn around in slow motion. The child the woman was carrying started beeping. “FU-“ “VIRGIL!!!” Roman suddenly couldn’t hear. He didn’t need sound to understand what was going on. That child was a bomb in disguise. Even though Roman couldn’t hear, he could feel a blood curdling scream escape his throat. Days passed and Roman could still see the haunting image in his mind. They were burying Virgil today. Or, what they could find of him. Roman fucking laughed. They couldn’t find all the pieces of his dearest and yet they were fucking burying him today? That’s absurd! He couldn’t give his love a farewell kiss or a flower because Virgil wasn’t fucking together. Roman couldn’t hear Grandma Storm or Patton sobbing. He couldn’t hear the speech that Logan had made. He could see Logan physically struggle, but Roman didn’t care. His eyes were focused on the coffin. Virgil would probably complain that his coffin wasn’t “edgy” enough because it was white. He could hear his love’s voice. God this was awful. Roman blinked and suddenly the coffin wasn’t there, just a headstone. He felt a hand on his shoulder and somebody hugging him. He looked down to see Patton hugging him tightly. He turned to the side to see Logan, trying to keep his stoic persona, look at him with sorrow no human should ever have. Wait, was he crying? Fuck. Roman had been crying and he didn’t even know. He could hear Thomas say something but the words were muted by..his own sobs. Roman finally fell to his knees, carrying Pat with him and wailed. Have you seen anyone fallen apart? Logan has, and it was unexpected. Nothing was the same after the loss of Virgil. Grandma Storm quickly passed three months later because her body couldn’t handle the stress and grief. Victory dinners at restaurants felt dull when they’d be painfully reminded about the one empty chair. The headquarters just felt off. Logan would often wake up at night and hear Thomas crying. What was the worst thing of all was how Roman handled all of it. For the first year Roman was in between lethargic, depressed and angry. Some days he wouldn’t get out of bed. Others, he started taking on challenges way bigger than himself. The worst days was when he’d spend a whole day sobbing. His wails would echo through the headquarters. It was so haunting Patton would cover his ears and quietly cry, begging silently for it to stop. Logan would cover Patton’s ears with his hands or turn cartoon music all the way up until you couldn’t even hear your breath. The second year is when the switched flipped. Roman, instead of moving on with his grief in a healthier way as suggested by Picani and Logan, turned aggressive. He’d get into screaming matches, took on suicidal missions, and had even beaten a villain so hard he died in the hospital. Thomas organized an intervention and of course everyone was there. Patton was sobbing and begging for Roman to get some help. What happened next was terrifying, and Logan’s own fault. “Virgil wouldn’t want you to be like this Roman. He’d want you to sing and laugh and be ridiculous.” Logan expected Roman to give in at this, but that’s not what happened. Something flickered in Roman’s eyes. Suddenly Logan felt himself be slammed into a wall. He couldn’t breathe because Roman was strangling him. Roman screamed with a rage almost inhuman. “Don’t you dare fucking say that name! Don’t you fucking dare tell me what he’d want! You putas didn’t even help!” Logan suddenly gasped for air as he felt himself fall to the floor. Thomas, Emile and Remy were holding Roman back, shouting at him to calm down. Logan coughed as he felt Patton rush in and hug him tightly, sobbing at the top of his lungs. That’s when Roman broke free. Through Logan’s blurry vision he could see him quickly run off. Remy and Thomas went to chase him, but Emile rushed over to see if he needed help.

And that’s the last they saw of Roman or Royal Slinger. And that’s when Venganza de Rosas emerged. The first encounter with Venganza de Rosas would haunt Logan forever. A disturbance had been reported so naturally the Spider Gang rushed in to save the day. They were horribly wrong. What, or who they found was Spider Bite. He was impaled by multiple black and red metal roses and limp, blood in a pool below him. Logan rushed to check for a pulse. “Oh god, Oh god please! No more!” Patton sobbed. Logan felt bile rush up but forced it down. There was no pulse. Logan backed up to tell Patton the grim news but something caught his eye. Above Spider Bite was something written in blood.

Venganza de Rosas More and more crimes belonging to this “Venganza de Rosas” person sprung up. Bank robberies, heists, heck even murders besides Dolion’s erupted in their faces. What was the most frustrating is that every time the gang resolved a situation, five more popped up. They had no clue it was the beginning of a bloodier battle. It was realized when a figure attacked Thomas. They attacked the man while he was on patrol. The villain must have left Thomas to die with his spinal injury in an alley alone, but luckily Dream Weaver was patrolling over there that day. Thomas would live, but his spinal injury could take years to heal. He was bound to a wheel chair and hearing MJ sob was enough to make Logan storm out of the hospital room in a flurry of mixed emotions. Everything suddenly became a massive shit storm. Cotton Candy Spider went missing for three whole months before they found his body in the sewers. Dream Weaver, overcome with grief of both of his loved ones killed himself. It’s been five years since Virgil died, two years since Roman stormed out, three years after Dolion’s death, eight months since Emile was found and three months since Remy committed suicide. The Spider Gang was crippled. Logan never let Patton go on patrols anymore. Ever. Patton fought every chance he had but one sharp order made him give in. Patton helped Thomas and MJ anyway he could, but he wanted to go save people. Finally In the first time in years, they had a stroke of luck. Logan was ambushed by the figure. The person was probably male, was slightly above average height and had some muscle on them. They wore a black and red mask with bloody roses on it. What was most odd was the suit. They wore a red and black floral tuxedo, but instead of a tie they wore a scarf. Logan dodged an attack and quickly scanned the suit cause no way in hell would a villain just wear a freaking cloth tux by himself. Logan was shocked at the results. It was made from Vibranium. What was the most shocking was the advanced analysis of the DNA Logan had installed just for Venganza de Rosas. Roman. It was fucking Roman. “Roman?!” Venganza de Rosas laughed, heck cackled with malice. This was Roman, holy hell. “Took you long enough Specs. What, it took two murders, a spinal injury and an ambush? Very slow of you!” Roman snarked. “What the fuck Roman?!” Logan growled out. His hands shook and his insides were cold. All this sorrow and rage built up over the years was ready to erupt. “You killed our friends, your friends, for what?! Fun?! Revenge?! All because we all wanted you to get better?!” Logan spat. Roman scoffed and turned around. “You all were never my friends.” With that a loud cloud of smoke floated into the air. Even though Roman was a murderous mastermind he could still be idioti-. Patton hadn’t seen Logan in hours and grew worried. He repeatedly sent messages, checked Logan’s helmet cam, everything. Patton refused to cry. There was no way Logan could be in trouble! He was smart, quick and strong! He was safe right? Right? Suddenly the supercomputer dinged. Patton hurriedly pulled up Logan’s helmet cam. The camera showed nothing but black, but Patton heard a voice. A rough, gravely and wheezing voice. “Subway..platform…seven…help.” “Logan! Logan are you okay?!” Nothing. Patton wasted no time. No way in hell was he going to lose another family member. No way in hell was he going to lose Logan. He suited up and rushed out of the headquarters. Patton barely remembered the trip to subway platform seven. Unfortunately, he knew the way very well. Because that’s where the platform Virgil was blown up at. Patton hadn’t been there in a very long time but he knew it was abandoned due to the danger to the structures the explosion caused. And of course when Patton entered, it was empty. Or so he thought. Weird noises could be heard. Machinery and music floated through the air. Patton gulped and quietly crawled onto the ceiling towards the noise. Along the way he saw..odd objects. A familiar hoodie. Framed ballet shoes. An MCR T-shirt. Patton’s eyes widened as he remembered these items. They were Virgil’s, so why were they here? The music was growing louder and louder as Patton got closer to what he knew was a chamber. What he didn’t expect was to see so much odd technology. There was strange machines with wires and computers. Tables were covered in advanced, almost government level science equipment and strange things in vials. A vinyl player was on another, more empty table. The biggest thing in the center was covered with a large sheet. Patton quietly made it to the ground and out of curiosity walked to the machine in the center. He pulled the sheet and covered his mouth at the thing in the tank. “Patton?” Patton whipped his head around. A cry erupted from his lungs. “Logan! You’re oka-“

SLAM!

Patton cried out as Logan slammed him onto the ground. Patton looked up into his lover’s eyes and gasped in shock. They were blood red. Logan’s eyes weren’t blood red.

“It’s all okay now Patton. Roman is going to fix everything! Our bad luck will be gone and a new world will emerge! We’ll be a family again!” Logan deliriously said with a grin that was way too wide.

“Logan stop it! Stop!” Patton cried, pushing, punching and squirming under the weight of his love.

“Its going to hurt like hell at first but it’s worth it! I promise! Ill be here for you my love!”

“STOP!”

Patton had little time to notice the smoke creeping in through the vents. The smoke seemed to seep into his bones and mind, burning everything that told him to resist into a crisp.

Patton screamed in pain, as his eyes changed blood red. Logan’s kiss was the only thing to mute him.

Blurry eyes blinked. What.was going on? Memory seemed useless, for everything was blurry visions of glass. But now..legs worked. That had never happened before.

The glass door opened and shaky legs stepped into the world for the first time. The lights were bright, but a quick eye rub cleared everything up.

“Ah! It worked! How are you feeling?”

A man. There was..a man.

“…G-Good?”

A gasp could be heard. Voice! The throat had a voice! There was never voice! The man grinned and took hands into his own.

“Good, good! Do you know who you are?”

“N-No.”

The man smiled kindly and kissed the hands.Blood rushed to cheeks, making them warm.

“Your name is Virgil, and you’re my heart. My love. My beloved king.��

Virgil blinked. Love? The word seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place it.It was..nice.

“Come my love. Let us get you dressed and we can talk more. Im certain Patton has clothes laid out for you. Of course everything will make more sense when Logan inputs your memories.”

Virgil nodded, all tension gone. However he still had one question.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice raspy from lack of use.

“I’m Roman, my love. And we will rule this world together with an iron fist.”

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cainromainelettuce · 5 years

Text

( non-binary ) haven’t seen CAIN ROMANOV around in a while. the BILL SKARSGARD lookalike has been known to be (+) RIGHTEOUS & (+) AMBITIOUS, but HE/THEY can also be (-) EVASIVE & (-) UNTRUSTING. The 24 year old is a SENIOR majoring in BUSINESS. I believe they’re living in EMERITUS, but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( snot goblin. 20. EST. she/they. )

surprise !! i am the snot goblin ! (aka james aka saige aka amos aka aleta) !! i very much apologize for this intro being late !! and also for possibly being pretty long.

EDIT: i forgot to mention but 1. like this if u’d like to plot w/ him !! obv !! and then 2. if discord is easier for any of u, my thing is emo stan #3644 uwu

TW: CULT LIFE, HEROIN USAGE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE / ABUSE, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, ABUSE, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES ( PTSD, ANXIETY ). if i forgot anything PLEASE tell me !!

a e s t h e t i c s

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one's own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

general information !!

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): cock and ball torture, N/A

b.o.d. - feb 19th, fuckin pisces

label(s): the fallen, the phoenix, the crestfallen, etc. etc.

height: 6′4″ jfc

hometown: rochester, ny babey !!

sexuality: bi...? bi. yes. bi.

stats

biography !!

cain, like all of my other children, was born into a life of privilege. his father’s a senator of new york and his mother’s a philanthropist; both pretty prominent figures. cain is the eldest of five.

he was raised in mind of keeping a good public reputation, taught to be the perfect citizen. essentially, he was a golden child who could really do no wrong. as a child, he’d always aim to please his parents in any way he could.

this included joining several clubs during school, such as model UN, debate, DECA, etc. etc. as well as a few sports (soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse -- all throughout the years, not at once). pretty sure he’s been a class president once or twice, and has been in the lead for valedictorian.

his whole thing was that he was supposed to be perfect. volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks and like...he just did The Most. the absolute most

this pleased his parents, and he never had a problem with them. life was good. they attended church on sundays, sometimes wednesdays, always did things as a Family. like, we’re talking family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new year eve parties.

probably lived in a gated community tbh

he went into college strong, started off as a double major in political science and business, lookin’ to take after both his parents. he’d Always been fairly close to tatiana, being around the same age as her. nothing freaky ever happened among them, and i wouldn’t have really called them...friends, if that makes sense? they were confidantes, they vented to each other for whatever reasons at the time.

however this whole ~do no wrong~ bearing was a charade. in the community and his families’ eye, cain was just this precious, hardworking citizen who gave back when possible.

those who actually, genuinely knew him knew he was just a dick lmfao

arrogant, harrowing, and an outright bully who tore down others when he felt like it -- often unprovoked. he was the senator’s son and a rich one at that, and ever since middle school he was just...mean !

because of his father and his family’s general position in the community, tattlers were the ones getting in trouble rather than cain, who’d often go without punishment for his attitude.

like...was That Bitch who’d actually, genuinely look down at somebody if they had less than him. just an absolute narcissistic dickhead who only cared about like, maybe two or three people outside of his family.

his only redeeming quality was probably his protectiveness over his siblings tbh -- even if he wasn’t ... the best person, nobody was rly allowed to fuck w/ his family.

this carried into college, he probably joined one of the frats too, y’know. known for keeping his composition even when others resorted to violence, ‘cos he never liked to get physical. it would’ve been bad for press, y’know ??

sometime during college, two important things happened.

the first one is that he became a sort of...middleman? broker? he wasn’t the one creating/growing what he was selling, but he wasn’t the one dealing them. y’know, he was the middleman. took drugs and sold them to dealers to sell, for profit, for funsies. very hush-hush for the obvious reasons.

the second is that he met earl and may meyers. they were fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive, and the older couple were immediately drawn to cain -- and him to them, essentially. to this day he can’t tell you what about them had been so appealing. just, the air around them was something else entirely. some would probably call it unhinged. they were kind folks, very down to earth, very religious and warmhearted. they liked his name being cain a whole lot; told him that he reminded him of their late son.

i’d say the beginning of this was late junior year for cain. the couple volunteered more and more at the same places as cain, as often as he did -- which, in retrospect was odd -- but cain hadn’t really known better. being the Good Samaritan he acted as, he kept talking to them. it became a genuine friendship. a few months into it, they had started talking about like...the sin of wealth and what it does to your soul, god choosing only a select few to be saved when he eventually cleanses the earth, etc. etc. they claimed that cain was special, one of those to be selected, they could see it in his aura, etc. etc.

it was...oddly appealing to him? like hmm..maybe i am being constrained by capitalism and disappointing god!

but like...this was mostly because of a lot of emotional manipulation for a duration of months -- and he had never once suspected anything like that to be happening. cain had always been so sure of himself, that he’d never imagined one day being manipulated, even if he was manipulative himself.

earl and may told him that they were going to leave rochester, that there were so many more who had the same ideals as them -- it was time to join them, to be saved. cain held off from this, as a senior in college by now.

after all, he had his perfect lil family and a good side-business going on, and he had a long term girlfriend who put up with his shenanigans. cain was still an absolute asshole to others but he had at least found his crowd to all be collectively awful and full of themselves, y’know?

over winter break, however, cain had a change of heart pretty suddenly.

for the third important thing had happened.

it had started off as a pretty average, normal day. christmas had gone and passed -- it was one of the days between christmas and new years eve, y’know? a period of days where time nor place is real. like walmart at midnight, or an empty 7/11 parking lot. during a seemingly normal conversation about his ancestry with his mother, she had suddenly broken down in sobs.

it was during this discussion that she revealed, to cain only -- that he was not his father’s son.

the beginning of vaughn and adelaide’s marriage had a pretty...rocky start, to say the least, and in a night of petty anger, adelaide had cheated on vaughn. this resulted in the pregnancy that wound up with cain.

the news rocked cain’s world in a very bad way, the sort of way that breaks a person. his entire life he looked up to his parents, did everything they ever asked of him, molded himself into perfection for the hope of being a sliver of a man his father was. and to learn that his father was not, actually, his father?

within the week he’d gotten into several altercations, both sober and drunk, and had landed in county jail overnight. nobody knows where cain went on new years eve, but he hadn’t skipped town until the third -- according to tatiana, who had received one last gift from him on the 2nd (her birthday).

then, he was gone. it wasn’t a missings person ordeal -- cain had made it very known that he was leaving rochester and that he had skipped town. hadn’t even broken up with his girlfriend before doing so. hell -- hadn’t even told the people he worked for.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

only earl and may knew where cain went. because he went with them to the place they had told him so much about. this was the fourth most important thing to happen to him, because it changed his life.

cain didn’t know what a cult looked like, but it felt pretty accurate to hollywood’s interpretations. they lived separate from society in rural new york -- not nearly as far away as cain would’ve liked, but thank god in the long run for that. the people wore white, linens and cotton. there was no technology, just prayer and daily chores. money meant nothing, there.

i want to keep this part relatively short, so i’ll try my hardest. cain was only in the cult for three-ish months before he escaped. the beginning was grand -- it was peaceful, it was mind-clearing. he was treated as something special, his name being some sort of ... message, a sign that he’d been a gift for the group. that he’d be, ultimately, an eventual leader for them. however -- the longer he stayed with them, the more apparent it became that he wasn’t the messager they had long waited for.

he began slipping up. they became displeased with him. punishments occurred. sometimes once a week, sometimes multiple. he remembers hundreds of hands, pulling and tugging and gripping and begging -- asking him to repent, please, repent, and submergence on more than one occasion. these were not the worst.

they were convinced that he couldn’t truly be cleansed of his sins unless he forgot his past life.

fun fact: heroin in small doses, daily, can lead to memory loss.

though it’d only been around three months of this -- it really felt longer to cain. time wasn’t a concept. there was only the ground they walked on, and god, and that was that.

drugged and weakened but still kickin’, he had gotten into a particularly violent, brutal fight with earl. this was the last straw. cain had attempted to murder his ‘brother’. this led to his next punishment.

in a particularly twisted reenactment / retelling, cain had been branded with the cult’s interpretation of the mark of cain (they were going to be accurate and place it upon his forehead, but after a lot of resistance [he bit somebody] it was, begrudgingly, placed atop his heart instead) and left for dead in the middle of nowhere.

by all means, he probably should’ve died. by miracle, though cain was no longer a believer -- he was found by a farmer.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY BEYOND THIS POINT.

by early april he’d been reunited with his family. things went very fast, suddenly, for him. recovering from his forced addiction, and the trauma he’d been put in within only a small amount of months -- and his father’s reputation -- his mother’s inability to look him in the eye -- cain took matters into his own hands and, rather than return to lockwood, put in his transfer to hendrix.

because he’s a grown man who, while recovering from being in a cult, can still make his own decisions even if they’re irrational. he should’ve taken a year off, really, and recover. but he couldn’t imagine staying in his house, either, and generally ?? his mind was just a very messy place.

he went to hendrix a s a p, before his term in the summer even began. he wound up at hendrix a few weeks (like...three?) before the lockwood kids and was very dismayed to find out that oh, coincidence, there’s an abroad semester attending !!

so that’s sort of where he’s at rn.

personality !!

okay so...douchebag cain is No More. they’re retired.

to the hendrix students they’ve familiarized themself with, they’re a pretty quiet person. well-meaning, kind enough if not a little sarcastic. sort of distant, not much for parties. smokes weed and like, drinks occasionally, but not much else. definitely doesn’t do anything harder.

they’ve got four cats. that’s their entire personality. four cats. they got them all after transferring to hendrix and like ... no regrets ?

i imagine their parents still pay for their schooling ‘cos it’s not like their father Knows that cain’s not his child. if anything, vaughn just thinks that cain suffered a mental breakdown and needed a break.

anyways. they love their cats a lot. like, probably has photos of them in their wallet.

as mentioned above, their memory is pretty...fucked up right now. they don’t forget anything major, but there are days where it takes them a while to remember faces or names and sometimes they wake up and won’t know where they are.

not that they really...sleep a lot? they have night terrors, which fuck with their sleep schedule. they sleep only for a few hours each night because the nightmares are too bad.

cain suffers from severe touch aversion. skin-to-skin contact of any sort is enough to send them into a pretty bad panic attack. they wear leather gloves more often than not, because it helps without hindering them too much. they’re not the biggest fan of body contact in general, even with clothes, but it won’t send them into a panic like bare skin will. they make sure their few friends know that they don’t really like physical contact at all.

they’re dealing with PTSD, attends therapy every week. keeps an entire journal where they write b/c it helps them cope. it’s like, everything to them.

they’re...sort of like...blunt? they won’t go out of their way to be like ‘hey i joined a cult and it fucked me up pretty badly’ but they won’t lie about it either if the topic somehow comes to that. they don’t like delusions, but they don’t like drawing unnecessary attention to them either.

lockwood students being at hendrix makes them pretty anxious, just because they were looking to sort of ... rebuild themself into a better person, and like pretty much most students at lockwood knows how much of a massive tool they used to be. not to mention like, their plugs and customers they screwed over by leaving, and their ex girlfriend who they’re still probably in love with ?? but it’s just complicated now.

smokes weed to soothe them rather than just get high. is probably stoned often.

doesn’t really like cars! or swimming! or crowds. doesn’t like to feel trapped.

whenever they’re overwhelmed and needs to be away from everything, they’ve developed a habit of climbing into trees. they won’t suddenly go jump in a tree during a conversation, but more so at night or when they need to think.

probably trying to redeem themself in some sort of way. because while they want to avoid the lockwood students as much as possible, that’s not right. they want to fix the shit they’ve done and be a better person, because the whole...situation they’ve been in has opened their eyes.

uuuhh...there are days where they forget that tatiana’s dead. so that’s sad.

i wouldn’t be surprised if people from lockwood were suspicious of cain, considering they left rochester only a week or so before tatiana went missing, and just so happened to come to hendrix around the same time eva went missing ??

oh !! cain developed a stutter, and their voice is a little damaged from...screaming. a lot. in general they look a little gaunt, a little unhealthy.

they can still definitely hold a conversation, and like i said they’re pretty...lowkey. soft, sort of. generally a quiet person and while they’re not the most social, they won’t be a direct asshole or anything. likes people! just...has low energy.

goes by he/they, doesn’t really care which one as he alternates pretty frequently.

dropped the political science part of his major and like...unfortunately is very much unhappy with being a business major atm. he might just go through another four years of college in a diff major or fuck off all together.

EDIT: i forgot to mention that he’s sort of really into the investigation of the cult he was part of b/c they’re still like...out there. also fascinated by the watershed app and shit, ‘cos they fucking...hate this shit with a passion. probably willing to stick their nose into places they shouldn’t

wanted connections !!

so first and foremost, cain would’ve been known around lockwood. connections relating to that would be v much appreciated !!

mostly enemies or people they’ve wronged, tbh, ‘cos he was a massive dick.

exes they’ve dumped, hook ups, ex-friends, people he’s gotten into arguments or fights with.

his ex gf would be gr8 . if anybody would like some angst.

uuhhh i’d imagine he’d know a few of the other prominent families from rochester, especially. not to say that they would’ve all gotten along.

hendrix pals !! give me some solid friendships based on mutual respect.

people cain used to receive drugs from and people he used to send those drugs to.

ex-party pals ??

people suspicious of them b/c cain was/is a very suspicious person. people still angry at them.

let them RECONNECT and FIX FRIENDSHIPS

people he’d bully or fuck with or whatever.

wholesome shit. angst shit. slowburns, anyone ?!? enemies to friends. friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies.

i’m not taking hook-ups for....obvious reasons.

but sexual tension is welcomed. maybe a sexting thing ??

ppl they DON’T even know that well but hATE his dAD because FUCK POLITICIANS y’know ?!?

old pals from lockwood, if i didnt mention that.

i imagine a lot of conversations w/ lockwood kids begin like ‘this is where u fucked off to, huh?’ b/c like....they told everybody they were ditching rochester. it wasn’t a secret or a shock. but it’s still like huh. u bastard.

people who are soft for them ??

people who are hard on him ??

make his life difficult but also uuuhh uwu him

#water:intro #drug abuse tw #abuse tw #cult tw #mental illness tw #ptsd tw #sorry this is so late folks !!

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what-even-is-thiss · 6 years

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Just a warm up story that kind of took on a life of its own but I figured somebody might like it. Sanders Sides Vampire au. Blood sucking tw.

Romanus absentmindedly chewed on the rock he had found outside. The noise from inside the villa picked up. There was the sound of something clay shattering and the smell of wine increased. He listened in to who was talking and heard a mix of both high and low Latin. The person speaking high Latin was pissed and the person speaking low Latin was groveling.

So father was going to kill another slave. Shame. He had almost gone half a year without it this time.

A familiar smell met him and he sat up.

“Cicero.” He said, smiling.

“Master Romanus. Why are you on the roof?” The other young man asked.

“Because it will make mother cross with me.” He said. “And because the stars are out. Would you like to look, my friend?”

“I should really be helping.” Cicero said, running his fingers through his curly black hair. “Julia...”

“Julia will be alright.” Romanus said. “I’ll make sure of that. She’ll be gone before morning and so will I.”

Cicero sat down on the tiles and looked up.

“You’re not really ill are you, sir?” He asked.

Romanus touched the bare skin between the slave’s shoulder blades. The coldness made him shiver down to his core.

“I am dead already, my friend.”

“Sir, I do not understand.”

“Come here. Please.”

Cicero moved a hand into the young nobleman’s hair, finding his scalp just as cold as his hands. Knowing now that he would get no answers he started moving anyways. Carefully moving himself into the ice cold lap and embrace that Romanus offered him. His lips began to stop feeling. It was like going to second base with a snow bank.

“Why?” Cicero asked after a moment.

“I am hungry.” Romanus said sadly.

“Then eat.” Cicero said, helping him to his feet.

Romanus adjusted the sleeve of his own robe and then of the slave. He wrapped his hands around his lover’s waist and started rubbing his nose against the other man’s neck affectionately.

“If you insist. Goodbye.”

He felt Cicero’s neck and torso tense in shock and then relax as the venom kicked in. He swallowed one, two, three, four times. Then pulled his mouth away and gently lowered the half conscious man onto the tile. His eyes looked up in confusion and fear without thoughts. Romanus kissed his forehead as he slowly was forced into a deep sleep.

“You were the only reason to stay. Live for as long as you dare, my friend.”

He jumped off the roof and landed on his bare feet. He knew the way to the slave quarters. He knew the way to his own bedroom and the pantry and the armory. He zipped through those places, putting guards to sleep and taking a few swallows of blood from each of them. By the time he reached where the young slave Julia who broke the wine jar was being kept and took out the guard keeping her from escaping his body had warmth again and when he looked into his lead lined hand mirror he smiled at the color that had gathered behind his cheeks.

“Master... Romanus?” Julia asked, trembling at the sight of the guard sleeping on the ground with a slightly leaking bite mark on his neck.

“Shhhh.” Romanus said, breaking her bonds and handing her a cloak. “I’m getting you away from here. The guard will be okay. Let’s go before my father or mother finds out.”

He picked her up and before she could register what was happening they were at the stables. He pulled the skinny girl, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, behind him on one of the master’s favorite horses and they rode away. She took note that all of the guards they passed were asleep and carefully propped up against something.

They rode along the roads of the empire all through the night and for most of it Julia hugged Romanus’ waist and felt his lukewarm upper back against her face. As the sun began to rise he wrapped a cloth around his face so only his eyes were showing and pulls the hood of his cloak up. They rode until the horse absolutely needed to stop and then they dismounted at a crossroads.

“This is as far as I will take you.” Romanus said, handing her a bag. “Rome is that way.”

He pointed at the road that went southeast.

“Florence is that way.”

He pointed northwest and then shouldered his large bag.

“I’d suggest Rome. It’s easier to start over there and easier to find pity. There’s enough food there to last you a couple days and a dagger to attack people and enough money to last you a long time.”

“Why are you doing this?” She asked in disbelief.

“Because I think I owe the gods something to make up for the chaos I’m about to cause.” Romanus said. “And I think it will be much easier to forget this place completely if I don’t leave it behind with a guilty conscious.”

Julia looked at the eyes that until now she had only seen from across rooms or peeking out from the kitchen. His eyes were the only thing visible about him. They turned gold in sunlight and brown in the dark and seemed to hold a hypnotic quality that made her sad to see him go.

“Where will you go?” She asked sadly.

“Northwest.” He said. “Far, far northwest. Where my father and the gods of Rome will never find me. Now leave. They will know you are gone by now. Go!”

She did. And when she looked behind her the trail of dust in the air told her that she had just witnessed something. Holy or unholy, good or bad, she could not tell. She just rode on. On the road that led to Rome and away from whatever creature her former master had become.

And Romanus? He had already started forgetting.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #roman sanders #vampire au #sanders sides au #roman wrote a thing #prince sanders

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hysterialevi · 5 years

Text

When the Devil Cries pt. 21

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

From Eddie’s POV

THAT NIGHT

FORT BRENNAND

Struggling in my restraints, I made a futile attempt to shake out of the shackles holding me as the harsh metal scraped against my wrists, causing me to hiss in pain as the cuffs gently clinked throughout the lonely cellar.

It didn’t look like anyone above had noticed what I was doing -- or at least trying to do -- but it didn’t matter much anyways. Without someone to help me, or some sort of tool to break free, I wasn’t going anywhere for a long time. There were far too many guards surrounding me -- as well as some loyal hounds they had trained -- and considering my history with Atticus, I doubted the man was just gonna “forget” about me anytime soon.

If there was any hope of me escaping this place, I’d need help to do it.

I let out a disappointed sigh and allowed my arms to slouch in the shackles, thinking to myself as the night carried on.

What the hell was happening...? How did I end up here? It was only this morning that I was robbing a bank with Dutch, and now, not only was Hosea dead, I had also fallen right back into Atticus Rose’s grasp...after so many years of trying to avoid him.

Part of me almost felt that it’d be best if I just took off on my own, and left the gang behind. I didn’t want to leave Arthur alone, and I loved that man more than anything, but I was putting his life in danger simply just by being around him.

Everything we had gone through, all the people we’d killed -- it was because Arthur was trying to protect me. I was the one thing bringing Atticus’ attention to him and his gang, and I was also the reason that Hosea was now gone.

Perhaps they’d be better off without my company. They had enough to worry about aside from Atticus, and it wasn’t as if I had never been on my own before. Maybe leaving Dutch was the best option. Maybe I could just...disappear somewhere in the country, and never come back. But...I also couldn’t just forget about Arthur either. I couldn’t abandon him.

That man had done so much for me, and shown me a sort of love I’d never experienced before. I had no idea how I didn’t realize it sooner, but Arthur was my freedom. He was the only thing separating Theodore from Eddie, and without him, my life would’ve honestly felt pointless.

I mean, my whole family was already gone. My father, my mother, my sister -- none of them were coming back. And my home was nothing but a distant dream now. Arthur was all I had left, and I’d be damned if I ran away from him too.

Breaking my train of thought, the sound of someone opening the cellar’s door suddenly reached my ears as they pushed it open with a firm thud, strolling inside as if they didn’t have a single care in the world. It was Rodrick.

The deranged man brought a cigar up to his mouth and took a drag, making the smoke dancing around his face in an enigmatic manner as he approached me step by step. He let out a cold chuckle.

“There he is...” Rodrick thought aloud. “...The very last Bishop.”

I was silent in response and simply threw a glare at him, causing the man to walk even closer to me as I turned away.

He crouched down.

“Y’know,” Rodrick began, “when I first told Atticus that you was runnin’ around with Dutch goddamn van der Linde, and falling in love with his right-hand man...heh, he didn’t believe me. Looked me square in the eye and said he thought it was bullshit. Told me he wouldn’t believe it until he saw it with his own, two eyes.”

Rodrick paused for a moment and brought the cigar up to his lips again, afterwards letting out a nonchalant sigh before continuing to speak.

“That’s important, you know?” He pointed out. “If you wanna survive in this beautiful country, you can’t just go around believing every damn thing that everyone tells you. Words ain’t nothin’ but a mask, and it’s a hell of a lot easier to dodge a bullet when you can see it coming.”

I disregarded what he was saying and went straight to the point, eager to get out of here.

“Look, what do you want?” I snapped. “Why hasn’t Atticus killed me yet? I thought that was the whole point of bringing me here.”

Rodrick looked disappointed in my lack of interest in his games and shook his head, but answered me nonetheless.

“Because you clearly ain’t the same little boy we last saw in England,” he replied. “You’ve obviously learned a thing or two since our last encounter. And the truth is: Atticus doesn’t need you dead. He just needs you to be under his control. Besides...with your newfound skills, I’m sure Atticus could find a use for you.”

I instantly rejected the idea. “That bastard’s out of his goddamn mind if he thinks I’m doing anything for him--!”

Rodrick suddenly threw a strong fist at my gut, causing me to cough aggressively as a grin stretched on his pale face.

“Haven’t you noticed, pretty boy?” He taunted with a laugh, leaning dangerously close to me. “We’re all out of our minds. But I wouldn’t worry too much. You’ll come around eventually. It’s just gonna take some...persuasion.”

I scoffed, still slightly dazed from the punch. “...And you’re going to be the one doing the persuading, are you?”

Rodrick rose to his feet and spread his arms out in a proud manner, giving me one last smirk before taking his leave.

“Well...somebody’s gotta do it. And who better than the man with so much...charm?” He fell silent for a second. “I won’t lie to you, Theo. It’s gonna be a long road from here on out. So take care of yourself, you hear? Because Atticus certainly won’t.”

From Arthur’s POV

OUTSIDE FORT BRENNAND

Observing the gang’s hideout from a distant gathering of trees, Dutch, John, Charles, and I all hid among the bushes as we scouted the place out, searchin’ for any signs of a covert entrance or clues that coulda told us where Eddie was.

We had managed to follow Atticus’ tracks back to an abandoned fort not too long after he took the boy, but now that I actually knew what we was dealin’ with exactly, I could already tell that getting Eddie outta there was gonna be a completely different story.

So far, all we could see was a shit ton of Atticus’ men along with a decently-sized group of some O’Driscolls, and from our angle, it looked like they had a number of supply wagons goin’ in and out at all times. Probably sending their people out to raid and bring whatever they stole back to the camp. It was an effective process, if a bit blatant, but now I could certainly see why Atticus’ gang was so strong.

I lowered my binoculars, turnin’ to speak to Dutch.

“It’s a goddamn fortress...!” I whispered. “These fools actually got walls to hide behind, and even more men to guard ‘em. Ain’t no way we can just attack a place like this. We’re gonna have to find another way in.”

Dutch continued searching through his own binoculars, his gaze stuck on the main entrance.

“I’m all up for ideas. Any of you boys see a weak point in their walls? Could be a sloppily patched hole somewhere, or a blind spot we can scale.”

Charles shook his head. “No. If anything, it looks like they’ve reinforced the fort’s protections. If we’re gonna scale the walls, we’ll need to draw their attention elsewhere.”

John offered a suggestion. “Wait, what about the supply wagons?”

Dutch quirked a brow. “What about them?”

Marson thought a for a minute. “Well...maybe a few of us could sneak into them. Enter the fort all nice and quiet-like. Maybe sabotage some o’ their supplies while we’re at it. That’ll draw their attention away from the walls. Meanwhile, the rest of the gang could climb up. Take out the guards up top while they ain’t looking. That way, we’ll have men on the inside and outside.”

The older man almost sounded impressed. “...You know what? That idea ain’t half-bad.”

I chuckled softly, returning to my binoculars as I continued to examine the fort. “I’m tellin’ you, Dutch...we oughta let them wolves have a go at this boy more often.”

John’s expression flattened with annoyance. “Shut up, Arthur.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve been suspiciously clever ever since they ate half your brain.”

He sighed in irritation. “I’m startin’ to wish you woulda let them eat all of it at this point--”

“--Hush, you two,” Dutch jumped in, grabbin’ our attention. “Look who’s entering the fort right now.”

Focusing our sights on the main gate, the four of us watched with a newfound curiosity as we fell completely silent, lookin’ to see who Atticus’ guest was. They appeared to have arrived with an especially large supply wagon as well as a handful of men to guard it while they trotted up to the entrance, all full of themselves.

There was crates of dynamite, food, moonshine, and weapons sittin’ in the back, and the more I examined their mounts, the more I realized they probably stole them from our camp. The bastards. Was there anything Atticus didn’t take?

Bringing my binoculars back to the guest, I zoomed in a few times before studyin’ their appearance, only to realize it was none other than Colm O’Driscoll himself. Of course.

“The hell is Colm doing here?” Charles questioned. I let out a worried breath.

“He and Atticus have some sort of...partnership going on,” I explained. “They’re teamin’ up against us. Though, I hadn’t seen Colm ever since Eddie broke me outta his camp. And I certainly didn’t expect to see him again after that shitstorm. Makes you wonder why he’s suddenly decidin’ to show up now.”

Dutch recommended an idea. “Well, maybe this is our chance to find out. John and Charles, you two stay here a while longer and keep scoutin’ this place out. Tell me everything you find when you get back. And be discreet. Arthur, you and I’ll go back to camp and think of a plan to assault this fort. Maybe we can build off of John’s suggestion. Either way, we need to move quick. Atticus has proven himself to be a man who doesn’t waste time, and we can’t let him get away with Mister Ryan. Lord knows what they’re doin’ to him now.”

I sighed in nervousness. “...If it’s anything like what they did to me, it ain’t good.”

Dutch switched to a more reassuring tone. “Have faith, Arthur. We will get Eddie out of there before it’s too late. Tell him, John.”

Marston gave me a sincere look. “Eddie gave himself up to save Jack. Me and Abigail will do whatever we can to help. That boy’ll be fine.”

I tried to hide how much this situation was truly scarin’ me and kept a straight face, simply staring blankly at the grass below.

“I sure hope so.”

Dutch packed his binoculars and began walking towards his horse, signaling me to follow.

“Anyway, we should get moving. Not only do we have a man to rescue, we also gotta figure out where to move our camp next. Shady Belle ain’t safe for us no more, and I don’t want a repeat of what happened this morning. We’ve got to leave.”

I climbed on top of my own mount which I had switched out with Bullet and gave the big boy a pat on the neck, lightly kicking my spurs into his sides as I rode alongside Dutch.

“And what about...Hosea?” I asked, my voice a bit softer than I intended. “What’re we gonna do about him?”

Dutch’s face sank with sorrow at the thought. “I...I sent Bill and Lenny out to bury him somewhere proper. Somewhere peaceful, and away from this horrible swamp. I’m thinkin’ of paying him a visit later, once we get things settled.”

I nodded in agreement. “I might come with you.”

The older man’s melancholy was suddenly replaced with a sense of anger, and he gazed at me through the night’s darkness, giving me a determined glare.

“He’s the last one, Arthur. No more. We ain’t losing anyone else. Especially not to Mister Rose, or to those goddamned Pinkertons! We are survivors, for God’s sake. We fight to live free, and I will not allow these...sheep to think they can simply kick us around! Hosea said it himself: people like Eddie are the reason we do what we do. People like him are the reason we’re more than just common outlaws and criminals. Because unlike Atticus, and unlike Colm, we have got something to live for. And I’ll be damned if I let them take that from us.”

I picked up my pace and broke into a gallop as Dutch and I entered the more open fields, the two of us ridin’ underneath the moonlight while we headed back home.

“Well, whatever we do next, Dutch...” I said, “I’m with you.”

He glanced over at me, his brown eyes filled with a sense of protection.

“I know, son,” he replied gently. “I know.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #arthur morgan x male oc #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story

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blueberryland · 5 years

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The Blueberry Movement

Chapter Two: Aretha Franklin

Audra often takes time out of her world of misery. She thinks, she dreams, she pretends to be somebody; she believes that she is nobody. When Aretha Franklin died she talked about her and related it to her own story. Audra, now poverty stricken hardly compares to Aretha Franklin. She believes that we only become equal in death. Aretha came into this world with nothing and leaves with nothing just the same as Audra will. Even the Queen of England shall have the same fate. That is the ultimate that all humans share. We also share this universe but we all cannot appreciate it equally. We have created a place where there are rich and poor where there are boundaries between countries, religious divisions, cultural and racial divisions. There are people who are able to reach others despite these divisions. Audra believed that Aretha Franklin was one of these people. Audra wrote about Aretha some time ago. She wanted to honor Aretha Franklin because she honored Blueberries and all people from all walks of life. She wrote it when Aretha died but her Blueberry mind made her stop. I thought it was worth a read for many or even just a single person, if any.

Aretha Franklin supported food banks and helped many people anonymously. She helped many that were hungry and in poverty and continued to do so until the end of her life. She used her voice to bring people together and helped to change the course of history in her work on civil rights. She sang at rallies with Dr. Martin Luther King and her singing helped to deliver the message of equal rights for all. She sang everything from opera to R & B and everything in between. She could sing anything and I know that her healing voice and music caught the ear of Blueberries and helped to cure, even briefly, the minds of many of them. She had a voice that spanned four octaves and it flowed out of her naturally and powerfully. If you are able I would encourage you to meditate over some of her music and free your mind while you let that music flow through you. If you can’t play the music just sing it to yourself, let it penetrate your mind, slow your mind down and stop all the unnecessary business going on in there. Think about being like Aretha and not letting life get you down too far. Let Aretha’s voice lift you up, up, up. Even if you think you have nothing, at least you still have yourself, even if the true you is a Blueberry. Aretha can be a great mentor to you whether she is here or not as her memory and music will live on forever. There truly was no equal and so we thank her and pay homage to her for all that she has done even for those who never, ever had a chance of ever knowing her personally. Remember what she said and sang: R-E-S-P-E-C-T, RESPECT, JUST A LITTLE BIT, RESPECT. She believed that we all deserve just a little respect, and I have to agree that all people deserve respect, even the Blueberries out there that do not think they deserve it. You deserve RESPECT. I am sure that Aretha Franklin, Queen of Soul, would assure you that you do deserve it even as she went riding away on a freeway to heaven in a pink Cadillac. Audra wished Aretha god speed knowing that heaven would be filled with her enduring and beautiful voice forever. While the body may not go on forever the energy does as it returns to the universe from whence it came. The matter that is you is fallible but your energy is infallible, it goes on forever, just as Aretha it never dies. That is what many African slaves believed when they were brought, chained in ships to America. Life was not worth living for them and so they lived for the next world. Hoping to finally have peace and happiness and escape the evil of that thing called life.

Our minds are powerful and sometimes we have to overcome the mind, so that we can be happy and thrive, but how do we realistically do that? How do we keep our minds from holding us back in everything? There are societal barriers that hold us back from success whatever you might interpret that to be. It could be rules, racism, prejudice of all kinds, institutional and structural barriers to the success of those less fortunate. Some are able to change their lives through hard work, a little luck, a little kindness, finding a miracle even a person that might come along and do something surprisingly good to put you on a path to success. Perhaps you might even be lucky enough to win a lottery. Dreams can be good when a busy mind is forced out of the way. Audra’s mind can be a busy and dangerous one; it prevents her from moving forward. It slows her down and makes life weigh heavily on her. Audra is not aware that her mind slows down when she is at one with nature. She loves to walk in forested areas and is not aware that she sometimes smiles when she does. She smiles when she smells pine needles and holds on to pine cones. She smiles when she sees water flow and the birds flying over it. She smiles when she sees flowers grow and walks through tall grasses. She remembers the beauty of the Lake just a few miles from the homeless shelter. She used to walk there and spend her days sitting on the rocks, often shivering in the wind. She would gather stones of different shapes and sizes, she named them all. She named birds, bushes and flowers, even grass. These were Audra’s friends and made her mind settle allowing her to be one with the universe. The photos that you see are of the beautiful things she spent her times with outdoors, flowers, trees, water, rocks, earth and sky. One day Audra pulled an old envelope from her pocket and wrote on the back of it. Her mind had stopped for a moment and she felt at one with the universe.

Audra’s Kingdom

Her Castle stood among the rocks

The rocks became her throne

Her Kingdom went beyond the splashing waves

Way up beyond that special place

Wherever the water hits the sky

Elegant driftwood furnishings lined the Kingdom’s edge

Stone jewels of all sizes and shapes speckled the watery shores

Fine gardens of trees, wild flowers and tall grasses

Lined the untended side of her rocky throne

Hers was a rich, beautiful, little principality

It could have been Monaco

Or a little space on the French Riviera

What a dream her Kingdom was

Even in the worst of times Audra found the best of times in her head, not in her busy mind full of pain, and bluster. Audra had discovered her own brand of mindfulness and she never, ever knew it. She could be the perfect child of the universe whenever her mind disappeared, then she became a perfect extension of beautiful, natural spaces.

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ask-the-richmond-newsies · 6 years

Photo

A day late again but here’s my Day Three for @girlsiesweek!

Day Three: Relationships

Top: Tomily and Carings

Bottom: Tedixie and Jodee

Sorry y’all, I love my ships so this is going to be long, lol

Tomily is comprised of Tommy Russo and Emily Chapman. Tommy was the leader of the Richmond newsies and was ready to retire from the fine life of carrying the banner when he was nineteen. But when his best friend Ticker died of pneumonia, he stayed on an extra year to help everyone through the grieving process. When he did finally pass the torch and give the mantle of leader over to a boy named Fox, he was ready for a fresh start. He moved to the East Village in Manhattan and took a job as a banker. It was there that he met the man at the desk next to his, Jim Chapman, a widower of six months. One day, his daughter Emily came to the bank to take him out for lunch and that was it for Tommy. He thought she was the most divine creature he had ever seen. They exchanged smiles and when her and her father came back from lunch, he asked her on a date. What he didn’t know was that she was talking about him the whole time she was with her father, just asking about that cute blond guy that sits next to him at work. She accepted his offer and they went to dinner. They quickly fell in love and helped each other through their losses. He helped her to have fun again and she helped him to let go of his past. Being a proud Italian, he also introduced her to the best Italian food in town, outside of Little Italy, of course, and would take her out dancing. She brought him into her family and into their home and he just fell even deeper in love. Her father became like his father and her sister became like his sister. They’re truly a match made in heaven. His proposal was simple but very sweet. He had her come over to his apartment and made her dinner, there were rose petals everywhere, and their song was playing on the phonograph. While they were slow dancing, he spun her around and got down on one knee. They’ve been planning their wedding for several months now and will be getting married very soon in a beautiful spring wedding.

Carings is comprised of Strings and Caroline Chapman. Caroline met a sweet, flirtatious boy named Thumbs one day when she was in Midtown doing errands for her sister’s wedding. They got to talking and found out that her sister had met him in a similar fashion and befriended him the day before. They saw each other a few times after that and she developed a small crush on him. But he was three years older than her and interested in somebody else, plus she isn’t allowed to date until she turns seventeen. After awhile, he figured out her crush and let her down gently. She played it off as if she was just screwing with him, which he hesitantly believed and that was that. Soon after that she went over to the Midtown lodging house, which she had previously visited a few times before, and hung out with her new friend Birdie. She told her what happened and being equally as big of a troublemaker as Caroline, Birdie decided what they need was a good old brandy spiked cup of tea. They ended up getting pretty tipsy when Thumbs walked in with a couple other newsies, one being a French-Spaniard named Strings. Strings was a wanderer who would pop into the lodge from time-to-time. Being the huge flirt he is, he began flirting with the pretty new blonde girl. The girls, him, and a couple other newsies passed around the booze and some of them got properly drunk. As they drank, Strings would play them songs on his guitar, which made the girls very happy. Later in the evening him and a guy named Soaks walked Caroline’s drunk butt home to the East Village. Though she clung more to Strings on the walk. And when they got to her place he took the fall for the booze smell when her sister answered the door. They’ve hung out a couple of times since then, including taking a couple of the little girlsies to a butterfly atrium at a botanical garden. He also gave her one of the kittens from the lodging house that they’re trying to give away to good homes. That one major brownie points with her. Without knowing it, he’s been inspiring her to try dancing again, a major part of her life she lost passion for when her mom died. Mostly their relationship consists of a will they, won’t they dynamic, as he wants to be with her but she’s afraid he’ll leave after he’s had some fun with her. He’s been known to wander from town to town and to go from girl to girl. She doesn’t want to be just another girl. But their biggest problem is that they don’t communicate their feelings with each other. He doesn’t know she has this fear and she doesn’t know that he’s in this for the long haul if she decides to give him a chance. But they’ll get there eventually. (Strings, Thumbs, Birdie, and Soaks belongs to @askmidtownnewsies)

Tedixie is comprised of Teddy and Dixie. Darla met Theodore one day when he was working in her horse’s stall and grew quite fond of him the more they interacted. The feeling was mutual but had to go unspoken. They eventually decided to date in secret even though it was quite risky. They would go on secret picnics and rendezvous under the stars. He would leave her flowers in random places and she would steal glances. She would always wish on dandelions that things could be different, then one night as they were stargazing, she made a wish on a shooting star. She wished that they could be together openly and safely. Soon her wish would come true but in a way she would never wish for. One day her little sister saw her sneaking out of the house and followed her. She saw them kissing and Dixie heard the gasp. She made her sister swear that she would never tell. But the next day her sister came up to her and apologized profusely because it was an accident, and she didn’t mean to tell! Possible Trigger Warning! Dixie rushed over to the stables and found her father beating the snot out of Teddy. When she tried to intervene, he knocked her out with a single blow. When she came to, her father was in the processes of trying to string Teddy up in a nearby tree. She quickly grabbed a shovel and hit her dad over the head, knocking him out. She quickly helped Teddy out of the ropes, tears and horror pouring out of her. She stole the family horse and rode with Teddy as far north as she could before she stopped to find a doctor to treat his wounds. To pay for his treatment, she sold the horse then they hitched a ride in the back of a wagon once he recovered. When they got up north they finally settled and took odd jobs, living together for months. Neither one of them really dealt with the trauma of that day and so they kind of drifted apart. They also just wanted different things in life. They eventually sat down and decided it was time to go their separate ways. They cried and talked for hours, but in the end, they knew it was for the best. They agreed to stay in touch and seeing as they were each other’s first loves, they said that they will always love each other and they will. Dixie then moved to Richmond and is getting a fresh start as a newsie.

Jodee is comprised of Jonah and Chickadee. After having ran away from home a few years ago and having just had her heart broken a few months ago, Chickadee found herself in Woodside in Queens. As she was being harassed in the street, a newsie named Twinkle Toes came and helped her out. Even though she didn’t actually need it, she did appreciate it and decided it was the least she could do to go back to the lodging house with him when he invited her. She went around meeting the other newsies and later met the guy of her dreams when he found her digging around in a closet looking for some wood to whittle (which is one of her hobbies). She remembered seeing him at the strike rally a couple of months before and remembered thinking that he was a stud that she would not mind making out with in an alley somewhere. She kept the latter part to herself but did eventually mention she had seen him before. She did however, call him Stud and that became her permanent nickname for him. It was a short interaction but it would continue the next day when Twinkle Toes suggested she sell with him, as he never had a selling partner and may have been a little lonely. She happily agreed. After selling they started teasing each other a little and he mentioned he was a talented acrobat. She had him demonstrate then jokingly asked if he escaped the circus. It apparently was a sore spot. He admitted that he actually did come over from Scotland with a circus but eventually left it after the ring leader got abusive and continually whipped him. He asked her not to tell the others because he didn’t want them to know. She agreed then they went to dinner. He talked about this place called The Mysterious Maze that he likes to go to sometimes, but it’s better with a partner. It’s like a haunted house and with several escape rooms. They end up going there as an unofficial date which she would later admit she considered to be their first date. (Literally there are hundreds of asks between these two over on @ask-thewoodside-newsies and as much as I’d love to tell you every main thing, I’m just going to skip to the really big main things, lol.) After a series of unofficial dates, including one where they sat in a huge tree in the park and watched the fireflies until they fell asleep, their unspoken feelings come to a head. One day when they were selling, she caught a glimpse of the guy who one time tried to kill her when he caught her and her ex stealing from him and hid in an alley, pulling Jonah in with her when he came looking for her. She quietly told him the story and he tried to comfort her because she was so terrified. When the man spotted them, he started coming towards them, his anger increasing. In a panic, she remembered that PDA makes people uncomfortable and almost always look away. So she kissed Jonah or the first time, and as hoped, the man looked away and walked off, thinking he must have been mistaken. This was the beginning of a whole new chapter in their relationship. They went back to their tree and discussed being together, due to her being hesitant because of the trust issues her ex gave her. They decided that they should be together and started dating. They fell in love more and more each day. But one day, Jonah spotted a circus tent in the distant and he grew scared. They investigated and found out that it was indeed the circus he had run away from. To make him feel safe while they were in town, she took him to this small, beautiful, abandoned cottage she squatted in whenever she was in Manhattan. They stayed there for a few day and played house. But one night while they were asleep, a shadowy figure broke in and stole Jonah. In the morning she was devastated when she thought she had been left again. But after a few minutes of crying, she realized that things didn’t add up and that they had felt that they were being followed a few days earlier. They chalked it up to being a fellow newsies they did catch following them, but it turns out he wasn’t the only one. She went back to the lodging house, gathered the newsies, and staged a rescue mission. The rescue was surprisingly easier than she thought it would be, but it didn’t matter because she got the man she loved back. They went on a few more domestic adventures after that and they told each other they loved each other for the first time while in the kitchen boiling water. She helped him with his demons and he helped her with hers. Sometimes they fought, sometimes they argued, but they always found their way back to each other. They were each other’s light in the darkness. One winter’s day after competing to see who could pick out the best sweater for the other, he asked her to marry him. It was spontaneous and nothing special, but she didn’t care, she was just excited to spend her life with him. They plan to get married soon, but first she plans to reunite with and make amends with her newsies family back in Richmond. (Bonus fact: She’s going to ask Tommy to walk her down the aisle because he was her brother’s best friend and kinda like a second brother to her.)

#girlsiesweek18 #Newsies #Newsies OCs #moodboard #I used a previously unpublished tomily moodboard I was going to post for their wedding but seeing as net neutrality will probably be dead #before then... I'll post it now

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violetsystems · 4 years

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#personal

My kitchen is my office for the next few weeks at least. It’s kind of been two stories for me. What happens outside in the real world and what really goes on in my personal life. Both are pretty much more of the same and hold their particular weight. I do sometimes feel trapped in the middle here alone with a particularly unique bundle of emotions. I live alone and have for a good decade. I’ve been unhappy with myself in the past. Maybe never admitted it. My environment around me seemed to reflect that. These days it’s not really about me or my environment. Chicago is about the best place to be trapped in this mess going on in the world. I’ve complained a lot how it always keeps tabs on you and never leaves you alone. These days it can be a little less so. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t really leave the house without something over my face. I don’t run with a bandana. You are supposed to wash the fabric after you wear it. Hanging a bandana out to dry isn’t really hard to do. The fact it’s been sitting on my wall for years is funny. I got it in San Francisco years ago on a trip from work. It’s an old toy shop in the Japanese section of town. I had gone with my boss at work. We both like anime. Years later we both still like anime. My job thankfully hasn’t changed all that much. I work maybe a little more productively. I’m in contact with people on video more than I ever was in person. It is a little grueling to wake up next to your office. I watched an all staff briefing from my porch patio. I’m gradually moving my garden in and out in the process. I have specific days where I leave the house for groceries. I usually do it over my lunch hour and never leave the neighborhood. I definitely have spent a lot less on certain things. The over all trend since New York has been focused on spending less money. Maybe I didn’t know how much toilet paper I used on a given week. But I do know days like today I don’t plan on leaving my property. It doesn’t feel as oppressive as it once did. There’s barely anybody out there to bother you. I went out to the west loop to go to Whole Foods when it opened yesterday. There was a line to get in as I was leaving. There was some normal guy wandering around the street with what looked like his belongings. I made a turn around a corner because I forgot to go to the bank and he was waiting for me outside. I kind of barked him off and he went away. But it really felt like he was out there evicted and wandering around with all his belongings. One of my friend’s roommates just up and bailed when this started. Lost their job and moved back home. While that kind of thing does cross my mind I worry a lot less in the short term. Although most of my job these days is delivering the same quality education to people online. People have their emotions about that. That’s not something I care to speak too much on. I can only say I’ve learned far more new skills at my job in the two weeks than I have in a year. And my resume is twenty years solid at this point. It’s just how I apply myself.

For the most part I apply myself alone. It’s been that way for years. But now it’s a particular fact I cannot avoid. I’m not unhappy alone. I’m on video with my coworkers during the week three or four times a day. I have to lead entire conversations and think up new ideas on the fly. I get a lot of appreciation from work for it. But my personal life has very little reward or recognition these days. I stay up with my goals. I work out now in the kitchen. There’s far more space and organization there because it’s my office away from home. My hair has grown back into a style. I feel healthy under the circumstances. But I also feel completely lost. Like I sacrificed my happiness and freedom for the greater good of something that doesn’t ever acknowledge I exist, breathe or hurt. I’m part of some invisible plan that I don’t even know my role in. So I just sit here and wait. And the circumstances get grimmer or more dark as they go by. I don’t have personal relationships to maintain on video. People barely even text me. People do text me. Just not about anything that has to do with my real emotions about anything. I’ve been sharing that here for years. My real friends read it. Process it. Understand what I am venting about. But this shadow world doesn’t translate into the real world. It’s the weirdest thing to realize that being transparent here week after week means nothing to a large population of people. They just see you on the outside how they want to see you. A cog in a wheel that relentlessly holds it down because that’s what you should do. Be a good person. Nobody checks to see how long I’ve been down here in the basement of reality doing plumbing work. How I’m simply just cheering myself on when in the back of my head I realize a grim truth. Nobody celebrated my birthday for the third year in a row other than my parents. I had to fly to New York again by myself. Now I can’t even do that. There is no escape for me. Quarantine is just a stark reminder of how it’s always been. And why it’s a little better these days than it was. Because I no longer have people questioning or challenging my position in society. Because there really isn’t much of a society left except the kindness of strangers holding it together. Everybody is locked in their emotions. Everybody can’t contain their fear and anger. It comes out at the worst times. It needs to come out. When you’ve had a space like mine for years, it comes out over coffee in the kitchen in the mornings. It doesn’t bubble up and boil down in crisis. To me this is all just another day. Another year. And a long gray time of loneliness that just keeps pushing on like a wheel of pain. With a little bit of contactless delivery to keep the work week moving along at a tolerable pace. If it were anywhere but Chicago right now I’d be alone in hell. Pretty much I’m just alone. More in limbo for the entire summer again hanging from that point in your life that screams loudly. “What the fuck am I doing wasting away another year again?”

The truth is I am not a waste. I know my value. I know what i do at my job. I know when it’s appreciated. When it’s not. When it’s not about me. And when it is. I know what billsI have to pay. I know when my rent is due. I’ve known all this for years. And people keep passing me by. Letting me rot. Now everybody is in the same boat and I’m just a mirage.. Still out there alone but burning brightly I guess. Brightly enough where I don’t want to get sick with a fever either. I can’t say somebody who runs distance as much as I do fears too much. But this crisis is a little more drastic. Part of me wearing a mask isn’t just for my own safety. If it sounds meta you don’t know how deeply my life has been drowned into the torture chamber. It’s painful to face. Yet another personal apocalypse. And yet there’s things that I would have never imagined. Delivering an American arts education over the Internet to mainland China. Being able to teach fashion technology no matter what the distance. It goes beyond my resume. Though being able to manage and supervise a staff from miles away is a great skill. What about maintaining our personal relationships across impossible distances? Some of us are learning to what extent. Some of us are focusing on a more personal relationship with ourselves. Some of us may be finding out we can’t stand being alone with ourselves. I’ve been there. I started looking at my environment around me. I make small changes. I make them regularly. I measure the progress. I’ve come very far these days. I made it there by myself. Isolated by my own choices from even more treacherous viral thinking. And I’m still here. Making things. Writing things. Feeling things on my own time. Is the time I spent valuable to anyone else? I don’t know. I feel like if people really valued me as a person they’d know just how hard it has been. They see just how deep I’ve stared into this darkness. How fearful I’ve been at times I’d be crushed and spat out. How I’d fear that people would forget I exist. That I matter. That I’ve done things too. That nobody ever remembers that I’m a human being with emotions that get pissed on daily. I’d be more afraid if I didn’t see this in myself. I see a lot of fear in the world. Contagious diseases are just the start. Life goes on. It has been going on. And life passes people by. I would wager ten years of my life just fucking blinked out of existence. It’s water under the bridge. I’m supposed to forget how it all made me feel. How bleak the past is. Focus on the future. What future is something I cannot see. That’s how it feels. To know you have to move forward with what you’ve been doing. With absolutely no validation but your own gut. What you believe is the right thing to do. That part is no mystery to people who really know me. And so I’m not too worried about the outcome. Just know that I’m safe and cranky as fuck. I need love just like anybody else. Self love is where you learn that. Self care is a hard thing to discover. So is your own value. Things of quality have no fear of time I guess. We’ll see how I feel about all that after my Standby Jury Summons. <3 Tim

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