#also grueling knowing that they might not even like any of these changes and i'll have to redo it all which is just the nature of client | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yumeka-sxf · 9 months

Text

Seems like this chapter just about wrapped up the Mole Hunt arc. I decided to analyze a bit more than I usually do with my chapter reviews since there was a lot to talk about on the Twiyor front!

When Fiona questioned Twilight about not killing Yuri, he gave his official "for the mission" reason, but slipped up by calling Yor "Yor-san" instead of "Yor Briar." This made it obvious to Fiona (who already knows about him softening) that he's trying desperately hard to cover up those feelings. Even though this would have been a good opportunity for her to imply that she's a better fit for the wife role, she doesn't even try because she knows Twilight would defend "Yor-san" in every subtle way he could.

When he gets home and finds out that Yor doesn't actually have gripes with him, he's relieved of that last load of stress and is finally able to relax, causing him to collapse (similar to the very first chapter when he collapsed after Anya passed the Eden entrance exam). After he realizes how utterly exhausted he is, he can't help but ask Yor to help out with his housework.

Her reply is what really makes everything sink in for him - despite all his attempts to be a flawless spy, she doesn't want him to be that way. She's happy when she can be useful to him and thinks it's bad if he pushes himself to be perfect all the time.

And yet, that's exactly what he has to be in order to survive as a spy. The fact that he had to ask someone for help with simple housework, plus someone telling him that he doesn't have to be perfect, made him recall the feeling he had when he looked into Wheeler's eyes...that he lives in a world where you have to be perfect in order to survive, and having any kind of weakness just won't due.

While Twilight continues to be clueless about Fiona's feelings for him among other things, what he does realize at the end of this arc is his own feelings - that he does have a weakness. He's beginning to understand more than ever that a spy can't afford to be anything but perfect. And yet, his refusal to kill Yuri, which is a result of him caring about Yor (even though he gave Fiona his usual "for the mission" reason, she saw right through it) is conflicting him even more.

I also have to point out how considerate Yor was of Loid's exhaustion - she completely pushed Yuri away, even after noticing he was injured. She didn't even invite him to stay and have tea with them!

What Twilight was about to say to Yor (in his mind) before Yuri interrupted is debatable, but going by his previous line of thought, it was probably something bittersweet like "which is why...once Operation Strix is over, I'll have to leave the Forgers" or possibly something more immediate, where he now realizes how compromised he truly is and so might reconsider the stipulations of Operation Strix even before it's over. Though I think it's more of the former since his thoughts in the shower in the next scene make it seem like he's not ready to do anything drastic yet, but the idea is still gnawing at him.

Fiona had noticed his leaking emotions way back when she was first introduced, but this is the first time Twilight himself is realizing it and not denying it. Whether anything major will change in his actions from now on is yet to be seen. Will there be another aftermath chapter or two with Twilight still being jostled by this realization? Or will things go back to normal now and he'll brush those feelings aside for another day? It seems like Yuri has been totally thrown off the scent, so his identity should be safe for the time being. Will Anya get to read his mind the next morning and finally find out everything that happened? The next new chapter won't be out for another 4 weeks, so brace yourself for a grueling wait!

#spy x family #spy family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #twiyor #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers

1K notes · View notes

qtboni · 10 months

Note

Hey there! ☺️ I've been loving your writing lately and wanted to make a request for a new piece. What about writing about Soldier!Reader and König falling asleep on each other on their way back to base after a mission? I think it would be a sweet moment of intimacy after all the dangers and stress they've been through together. No pressure though, just thought I'd throw it out there! :)

HI, LOVIE! thanks for this request,, this was undeniably the cutest thing I have ever written!! i used gtranslate for the german phrases cz idk any german huhu. anyw, i hope u wd love this, anon <//3

PAIRING: König X Gn!Reader

OVERVIEW: König letting you rest on his shoulder, and him also resting on top of your head <//3

C/W: Everything is fluff.

As you sat in the back of the military vehicle, you felt your shoulders droop as you fought to stay awake. Your mind was fogged from fatigue, and every minute felt like an eternity.

But as your eyes began to flutter closed, you made one last effort, shifting slightly in your seat to avoid dozing off.

You and your team had just completed a long and arduous mission, and you all were tired and eager to get back to base. You looked over at König who was seated next to you in the military vehicle. He looked just as exhausted as you felt, his face lined with the strain of the past few hours.

König, watching over you as he always did on missions, noticed the tell-tale signs of you about to fall asleep. Instead of calling you out, however, he silently watched with concern.

He knew how grueling the mission had been, and he did not want to see you hurt yourself by staying up any longer.

As you continued to struggle to keep your eyes open, your focus began to slip, your head slowly drooping. You didn't even realize it, but eventually your head came to rest on König's shoulder, your breathing growing more and more steady with each passing moment.

König noticed the change in your demeanor immediately, and he watched your face as it relaxed into a peaceful slumber. He knew your exhaustion well, and he saw it as a sign that you had finally reached your limit.

His rough, low voice was warm and comforting as he whispered words to you so softly that you almost didn't catch it, but you felt their meaning deep in your heart.

"Ich bin so stolz auf dich," he murmured, his voice low and steady, "Du bist so mutig und stark."

His whispers continued as you slept, caressing your right arm gently as he does so. "Ich liebe dich..." he murmured softly, sounding almost hesitant. "Du bist meine Welt, meine Liebe."

König knows that you would not be able to understand them, so he lets himself freely express his love and care for you in his mother tongue.

König then adjusted his seat to accommodate you and let you rest against him. Nevertheless, you still slept soundly in his right shoulder, the warmth of his body providing a sense of comfort and security that you desperately needed.

A few hours later, you awoke to the sound of König's snores. He had leaned his head on top of yours, and the sound of his breathing was rhythmic and soothing. Despite the uncomfortable position, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, and you drifted off once more.

As the hours passed, the warmth of his body seept into yours, and your consciousness began to fade. You were lost in a dreamless, restful sleep, feeling safe and protected by his presence.

Finally, the sun began to set, and the military vehicle came to a stop outside the base. You stirred from your slumber, feeling refreshed and ready to face whatever might come next. You opened your eyes to find König still sound asleep, his head resting on top of yours.

You sighed softly, trying not to disturb him. You carefully shifted your position and leaned over to whisper in his ear, "König... Wake up."

He stirred slightly, cracking open one eye to look at you. "Gott sei Dank..." His voice was low and hoarse from exhaustion, but there was a smile in his eyes. "I'll never complain about a nap again."

You giggled quietly, feeling a sudden surge of affection for him. "You'll never complain about anything again," you murmured, reaching up to prepare your stuff and fix your vest.

"Ja," König replied, his eyes gentle as ever as he looked at you. "Thanks for your shoulder, schatz. Sorry for if ever, um, it was uncomfortable."

"Oh?" You smiled softly at him.

"You know, given by your smaller than me, maus."

"Well," you chucked as you leaned over at him once more. "It was actually one of the best and comfortable sleep I have ever encountered in this.. kind of scenario."

König felt a warm sensation sweep over his cheeks as he blushed, clearing his throat nervously. "Is that so? Well, I'm glad."

"Actually, I should have been the one thank you. So, thanks. I really needed that nap." You patted his shoulder, where you previously had slept on.

König felt a nervous jolt run through his body as he realized his blush must have been noticed, even with the mask on, when your smile seems to expand more cheekily.

He doesn't trust his words, fear striking in him if he's going to let out stuttering phrases. So, he instead nodded at you, averting his gaze once again.

You knew that there were plenty of things he couldn't express with his mask on, but you could still tell that he appreciated your gesture. And you were glad to have been there for him, just as he had been there for you.

2K notes · View notes

castshed · 6 months

Text

I dunno if it's just the mental state talking or if maybe there's some truth behind what i've been thinking about since I got off work this morning....

But it truly feels like my time on this site might be more limited than I'd like it to be. Sure, there are some people that still seem like at least somewhat interested to entertain the thought or action of writing with me, but... the majority seeningly don't. Maybe it's my rules? Am I not lenient enough? Am I too weird 'cause of a simple lousy (kind of) fetish I have for taller women? I honestly don't get it.

I've been on this site consecutively for.... I have no idea how many years now. And sure, I've taken my breaks, some rather abruptly and unannounced, but they count... This feels different.

I usually have cycles where I want to do nothing but watch YouTube videos or tons of movies or start series' i've never gotten a chance to get to, or do nothing but play video games. But in the end I would always come back to writing.

Recently, I haven't wanted to do the latter. It just seems so... grueling, like a 9-5 job you don't wanna do but need to because it appeases some sort of agenda or just 'cause you have to pay bills on time and eat.

And trust me, I'm one of those people that doesn't see this site as a job, nor do I feel like writing is a chore. USUALLY.

But the lack of people's interest in things (idk if it's my muses-- me as a person) or the lack of reciprocation to things that take all but a few seconds to lift someone's spirits... has just really turned me off. (Not to mention broken notifications, the new dashboard - y'know all of Staff's TERRIBLE choices)

People also have jobs, I get it. Or school... kids, a life. This is truly something you do in your down time because you enjoy it and may have found the time to actually sit down and relax for once without the overbearing weight of other responsibilities holding you down - I just.. I honestly don't know anymore.

Now normally I wouldn't try and sound so much like a beggar or some kind of attention-seeking child, but is it so hard to send positivity in return sometimes? - Like I get that I may not be active 90% of the time lately, but at least I make the time and put in the effort to show that I care and still enjoy seeing actual people on my dash. - I always send it in and hardly get it back. And sure, maybe within the answer to my initial interaction there's something said. But that's more of a response than an actual attempted effort. At least, to me it is.

I also understand that I haven't been the best at replying to sent in memes, or asks in general, but that's because my muse has been at an all-time-low for ALL of my muses, save for like... ONE of my OCs (Sophie; though even now, I'll admit, she's kinda gone too.), and I get sick of staring at them, irritated that I can't muster up a SINGLE word to reply to any of them with... so eventually I delete them and hope to TRY from an empty slate.

I guess I just miss having that person or small group of people that I could count on all the time for things, regardless of our moods, what time of day it was, what we were doing -- etc. I've only ever been affiliated once, and... it probably wasn't the best choice. But the intentions at the time were nothing but good, and it wasn't heavily enforced, save for MAYBE a single ship, or two. Not having that security anymore just shakes things up too much and I guess it's one change that I could never get used to.

Regardless, the thoughts of this morning have me leaning toward either some kind of indefinite hiatus, or a massive reboot to start anew and maybe find a new place to settle. Those of you that want me around can keep me on discord and continue to chat with me there. But if not, and IF I do decide to go that route, I bid thee farewell and I hope for nothing but good luck in your future endeavors.

#「 𒆨 ⸺ ; out of character . 〕#long post #moral of this very long story #i feel left out and excluded #truly like i don't belong here anymore.

6 notes · View notes

queerplatonicpositivity · 1 year

Note

hi there. how does one go about changing your legal name? (also epic your neopronouns are public. that's really cool)

Hi, Anon! Thank you for the kind words. :)

This is going to be incredibly U.S.-specific, because I've never looked into this for any other country. Followers, if you have tips/info for other countries, please feel free to add!

For the U.S., changing your legal name when it doesn't involve marriage/divorce is usually called a "court-ordered name change." It's usually done on a county-by-county basis. So the first step is to figure out which county you live in. Here's a link to a site that can help with that: https://www.whatcountyamiin.com/

Once you know your county, you want to search for their name change process. This is grueling, because there are a lot of fake sites that pretend to be the actual county courthouse site.

The process varies from state to state and even county to county. For example, an online search is telling me that the Harris County (in Houston, Texas) process involves having to get fingerprinted and submit a background check, get stuff notarized before submitting, etc.

My process was a lot simpler. I had to fill out a form and consent to a background check (but not complete it myself), and then file the form with the county court (including paying the fee, which was something like $300, but they do have a fee waiver if you fall within certain income requirements).

They gave me a court date, and I had to show up in court with 2 witnesses who had to swear they had known me for at least 2 years. Then the judge approved it, and I took it downstairs and had it notarized (for free), and ordered additional copies of the court record (which was like... $16 each?) so I could have extras to give to all the places where I needed to change my name (Social Security Office, DMV, etc.).

Even now, 5 years later, there's still places where my name hasn't changed. One of those is my actual birth certificate, because I don't think my birth county allows name changes on birth certificates. Another is my college degree, because my university required an original of my name change court paperwork, and I only had one original left and didn't want to mail it to them (they're in another state) in case it got lost. But, I just ordered extras from the county court website (cost $20 each and was a simple form I sent through the mail with my payment), so now I have extras and I could do that. I'll get around to it one day.

You can also do an online search for "lgbt guide to legal name change" or something similar. I just did a Duck Duck Go search for that, and I got pages of results from places like Wisconsin, Virginia, Ohio, North Carolina, Texas, etc.

Also, I would definitely encourage you to try to find a queer org in your county. Many queer orgs have a lot of experience with things like this, and they'll be able to help answer county-specific questions about what the process is like. They might even be able to help you apply for a fee waiver or other things.

I hope this helps, Anon!

#asks #Anon #name change #trans #genderqueer #how to change your legal name

23 notes · View notes

horizon-verizon · 1 year

Note

I reread the whole dance of dragon sequence from the books and god the show writing makes me so fucking angry [again]!!! like uff in many parts it feels like the show writers wrote the blacks as an accessory for the development of greens throwing blacks so down in the imagine of public. and so i hate when show fans speak [mainly greens] as if all knowing when they cannot discern the hypocrisy and the flaws in writing of the show. show!alicent's moments make me so angry.

recently i saw someone on twitter say that blacks hold the books in higher regards so they went to read them only to get a 'history book' with only accounts from many forming their opinion on how the books are just books and not a good story. the replies were full of how GRRM was so bad at writing them as if they have half the wits if they cant comprehend the text, the accounts of who were the main people telling the story to get to form opinions closer to "truth". its not that hard, simple reading comprehension can tell you what we can take as almost truth. they think HOTD was meant to be the medium to show the truth T_T

with Daemon and Laena, i feel so that he truly did love her. I hate it when they just toss aside Laena. he fought for her hand. they had two children together both who he loved so dearly. even Laena's friendship with Rhaenyra is erased in the show [i feel like they just didnt want to show that Rhaenyra was capable to hold good relationships at all] coming back to Daemon:

Her grueling labor had drained all of Lady Laena’s strength, and grief weakened her still further, making her helpless before the onset of childbed fever. As her condition steadily worsened, despite the best efforts of Driftmark’s young maester, Prince Daemon flew to Dragonstone and brought back Princess Rhaenyra’s own maester, an older and more experienced man renowned for his skills as a healer. Sadly, Maester Gerardys came too late. After three days of delirium, Lady Laena passed from this mortal coil.

even if he lost his boy, Daemon doing this for Laena is just love. I love Laena with Daemon as i love Rhaenyra with him too. Its just plain sad such a good character was put aside in the show. and then after Laena, Baela and Rhaena are given to little regard in the show. [that baela-rhaenys clip which is going about. god they had to show Aegon getting off didnt they]

also with Rhea Royce's death... there is no way Daemon killed her. He was in stepstones when she died. its such a dumb thing in the show to. or okay in the books there is no way he could have gone on dragon to vale and back without anyone noticing a fucking dragon in the skies. people are so dumb.

i dont think Daemon or Rhaenyra or any other killed Laenor, other than Ser Qarl. I dont see how people see Rhaenyra ask for someone to do it.

Like in the books so and they are biased in my opinion, Rhaenyra is not shown to have good relationships much, and which are shown are rumoured with lovers and scandals like wtf. They all mean to undermine blacks so much.

sometimes i think what if Jace and Luke were trueborn and sometimes i feel strongly as if they are. i dont care if they are bastards or not, but sometimes i think. do you have any posts mainly on this?

this was written in mess of emotions, i may be wrong in come accounts and so i'll be happy to see what you think. Ive been in the book fandom for only few months, I love your posts. hope you are having a nice day <3

As for the Daemon killing Laenor, I changed my mind a little.

I think that if he were alone, he would have had him killed after Laena already died--was willing to.

So rather than it being a morality thing, it is a convenience matter that makes me consider how Daemon may or may not have killed Laenor. Including how he might have hidden his own movements and preparations to have this guy killed, which, yes, could just be him meeting with Qarl Correy in secret as he did in the show. But again, it depends on how dumb Corlys and Rhaenys are, or how willing they are to suspect Daemon and believe it.

He'd still have convinced Rhaenys very well that he had nothing to do with it, which I can't imagine was easy or worth it for him. Both Rhaenys and Corlys still have to support Rhaenyra after all, if the goal was to get closer to Rhaenyra and gather support/be support for her, as is the argument for the pro-Daemon killed Laenor thing.

As for how the show writers and Condal wrote the blacks to have less and the greens to have "more" by stealing their traits, ozymalek writes the best (and my own final agreement as to how this came about) HERE. Excerpt:

The Dance era in "Fire and Blood" is something that will fundamentally cause the feelings of cognitive dissonance. I think this is why people initially disliked this book when it first came out. It did not provide easy answers, it was written as a historical account, the in-universe historians were clearly biased. People, however, had trouble realizing who the historians are biased for and against.

Team Green would have you think that "F&B" is biased against the Greens, because their allegiance as maesters clearly being to Hightowers notwithstanding, they could not evade simple historical facts: that most of the kingdom supported Rhaenyra, that Greens were horrendously misogynistic and that her usurpation was clearly wrong. That's why, approaching it from the "choose your favorite war criminal" point of view, it was difficult for Greens to accept that their preferred side is so cartoonishly evil - obviously bias must have been involved, even though the only pro-Black narrator of F&B is Mushroom, the rest are Greens. The maester's anti-Targaryen bias, however, manages to sneak in and mess with the reader's balance, causing said cognitive dissonance.

It's hard to deal with it as a reader, let alone as a showrunner who's trying to adapt a story in which not everything is set in stone. They incorrectly assumed that, because they are constantly forced to question what is happening in the story, the bias is with the underlying idea that there was a correct side. As such, they assumed that all the inconsistencies result from maesters not choosing to view it that way. Ryan Condal repeatedly stated that he does not want watchers to pick sides, while George RR Martin embraces it and even encourages it (and I think that he himself has picked the Blacks). Such is our nature as human beings.

So they decided that they have to balance the scales. Because Greens are poorly developed, they added more characterization for them that contradicts their book personas (abused child bride meow meow Alicent who is clueless about the plans that in the books she herself set in motion, for example) while simultaneously taking the characterization AWAY from team Black members.

I still think that the writers are also more inclined to write Rhaenyra misogynistically for a male audience through the male gaze (xenonwitch's POST and ozymalek's POST and my own POST/its reblog by monoijikayu).

#asoiaf asks to me #daemon targaryen #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #laenor velaryon #laenor's death #hotd writing #hotd comment #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd critical

7 notes · View notes

spacepatrolhana · 1 year

Text

Tohru Adachi's Babysitting Service

unfinished fanfic i mentioned before and never finished. has a bunch of plot holes imo and i honestly dont think i characterized futaba all that well.

Authors Note: ok realistically adachi would not do babysitting. but i wanted to smush him in scenarios that i think can be funny im basically an encanto fan when they were running out of things to say about the movie

also im not familiar with persona lore so if i get something wrong mb ig

And Adachi was let go.

After 10 grueling years of living in a crappy police jail, Adachi displayed perfect behavior enough to finally be let off. He said he'd promise to follow the rules of this world, and decided to move over to Tokyo for a fresh start.

Adachi couldn't get his previous job (obviously), so he'd had to begrudgingly work a minimum wage job that could possibly accept him for his criminal record. He mindlessly scrolled through the library computer, looking for any open position in a gas station or supermarket, one that would excuse his past behavior. But it looks like he wasn't too lucky.

He thought back to Narukami, feeling a bit grateful that he helped with the down payments of his first apartment, he felt really hopeful that Adachi would change his life for the better. He had suggested doing babysitting, as parents check through app reviews more than a background check. Although, one search of his name could easily reveal him as a murderer, but there was some probably some poor grandma out there who doesn't even know how to even use a basic search engine.

Adachi reluctantly thought of gravitating to that idea, he really didn't want to deal with kids. Even before the investigation team, the only kid he could tolerate was Nanako. Adachi sighed at the thought of Nanako, she probably knew by now what he did, and couldn't look at him the same anymore. But looks like it's water under the bridge for him now, him being in Tokyo gives him a chance to not be able to face her ever.

He pulled out his phone and started scrolling for Yu's contact.

_____

"Adachi-san, I would recommend you get a new phone, it's easier to keep track of your clients this way," Yu said as he continued to type in Adachi's info onto the screen.

"All you need in a phone is to call and message someone. I'm fine," Adachi replied.

Yu sighed at his response, knowing that he wasn't going to change his mind on the matter, "Well, I've set your profile up, everything should be perfect! You'll definitely get clients now."

"Yeah, thanks," Adachi muttered.

"You know… You might not think it, but I think you're really good with kids without realizing it," Yu smiles, "During the Grand Prix… It felt like you were an actual father figure to Sho… Haha."

"That kid just needed some sense knocked into him, I just used what you kids told me," Adachi replies, "I'm only doing this cause it's the only way I can get money."

Adachi sits up from his chair, "Alright, get out, I don't want you in my apartment anymore," He pushed Yu towards the door.

Yu couldn't help but paint a worried look on his face, thinking to himself that he should probably check on Adachi on his first client.

_________

Adachi had not gotten a client ever since that day.

He figured that most of the people that viewed his profile ended up searching his name and found out what he did, damn people for actually doing their research!

It's not like he'd just go ahead and throw some random kid in the TV, it wouldn't be fun in such an eventful city such as Tokyo anyways. It's not like they'd know that, though.

Adachi jumped at the sudden ring on his phone, and quickly swiped it off his bed to see an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Uhh.. Adachi? Was it?"

He put on his fake cheery tone, "Yup! That's me!"

"Uh yeah, saw your profile, do you mind coming down right now and watching my kid? Oh, I'll pay extra for the short notice."

Well now he couldn't refuse, "Yeah sure thing, mind telling me your address?"

________

"Oh, welcome."

Adachi opened the door to see a short orange hair teen scramble off to the back of the counter immediately. He looked over to the counter to see a disheveled old man with an apron look disappointed at the sudden action.

"Uhh.. hey," Adachi said confusedly.

"Futaba, you're going to have to talk to him eventually."

"I'm fifteen already! I don't need a babysitter!" Futaba whispered loudly at him.

"Well, since Akira is gone, you really need better social skills to make more friends aside from the others..."

Oh great, a kid who's bad at communicating, this is definitely going to be hard.

"Don't worry, I'm not a scary guy," Adachi tried to reassure.

"I'm sure you aren't… Here, listen Adachi-san, I know you aren't a therapist or something, but I figured someone who's less professional than one could really help her with her social ability," The man explained to Adachi.

"Oh, uh.. sure. Yeah, no problem."

It is a problem.

"Alright, I'll be heading down to the store to grab some stuff, my names Sojiro if you need to save my contact," Sojiro said as he took the apron off.

Adachi watched as he left the counter and flipped the open sign to closed. He looked over the counter to see the girl hiding under it.

"Uhhh… Wanna see a magic trick?"

She didn't respond.

Well, he figured he could do it anyways, it always surprises kids. He prepared his hands to set up his illusion before he got interrupted by her.

"The coin's in your sleeve. I've seen it before."

What a pain in the ass.

"Hey, got you to talk!" He fake laughed.

Futaba scrunched up and turned away from him. Yeah, Sojiro wasn't kidding about bad social skills. He figured it was the age that teens get more rebellious and figure being unresponsive to people above them was cool, or something.

Adachi put his head down, annoyed by her actions. But he was getting paid extra, so might as well keep trying.

"You go to Shujin?" He asked.

"You killed people?"

Adachi's knees nearly gave out.

He stretched his body to look over the counter to see her have a tab open on her phone with his name.

"Listen, I'm clean. Served my time. I'm trying to make it better, I don't do that stuff anymore," He panicked.

"Well I hope so… These articles are from ten years ago."

Adachi definitely was not getting this client again.

"It's fine. I've met someone who's changed like you," she mumbled.

Okay. Do kids these days just have occasional encounters with murderers?

"Ahhh…" Adachi looked around, he really didn't want a bad relationship with his first client. He'd probably get a bad review.

The way this girl talked and moved reminded him of several kids he knew, something about being on the spectrum. He wasn't really too knowledgeable on that, just knowing they always had a specific fixation to the weirdest things. He racked his brain on something kids today would probably like.

"Do you like featherman?"

Futaba widened her eyes in surprise, looking over to Adachi.

Oh wow. That was a lucky guess.

Futaba couldn't help but spill out everything about her favorite parts of the show, her figure collection, just everything about featherman to Adachi. He didn't particularly find it annoying, he enjoyed the show when he was younger too, so at least he could insert himself into the conversation. Futaba had taken full control of the entire conversation, a complete 180 turn from how it was just a few minutes ago.

Adachi mentally let out a sigh of relief, recurring customer maybe?

"You know, I met the pink argus actress," Adachi bragged.

Futaba gaped, "Really?!"

"Yup, talked to her, didn't get her autograph though," he continued.

He really didn't want to admit he got his ass beat one time by her. But it looks like his little bragging session wasn't for nothing, as Futaba was completely interested in the conversation. He couldn't help but bring a small smile to his face as he managed to get this small girl to excitedly talk to a murderer this enthusiastically.

The two talked for a long while, before Sojiro came in and paid Adachi in cash. Futaba couldn't help but give off a wave as his back was turned, not going unnoticed by Sojiro. Adachi grinned as he counted the money in his hand, maybe this babysitting thing wasn't too awful. He decided to order takeout as a reward to himself, thinking he finally graduated from the shitty jail food he'd been eating for the last ten years.

_____

With a first five star review on his profile, Adachi had gotten more clients. His neighbor's (somehow) calm kid, a thirteen year old that just plugged his switch into his TV and never talked to him, and once even a baby. After that encounter, he decided to raise his age limit on what kids he'd take in. Never again.

He wondered if he'd get a call from Sojiro again, there was no way he'd decided that one social interaction like that was enough for that kid. Not like he wanted to see Futaba again. No way.

Adachi sat back in his chair, trying to work his new smartphone that he finally decided to buy. He figured he'd take Yu's advice on keeping better track of his clients and upgrade from a flip phone. He got startled when a familiar number suddenly appeared on his phone.

"Oh, Dojima-san!" He cringed at the small excitedness he heard in his tone.

"Adachi. Sorry I couldn't call earlier," Dojima replied.

Adachi stayed silent for a moment, not knowing how to respond to the sudden call. Sure, Dojima had visited many times before to check in on him, but Adachi immediately left when he got out, so Dojima never got to see him out.

"...How are you doing? Yu tells me you've gotten a job," Dojima said.

"Oh… haha… just a cashier, nothing too special," he nervously chuckles. He was not going to admit he's a babysitter now.

"That's good, that's good. It's great to see you're doing better, Nanako misses you, you know."

That makes Adachi's breath hitch, Nanako… missed him? After all he did, she still wanted to see him?

"Uh… that's nice. I think I'm getting an important call right now, I'll talk to you later Dojima-san," he hurriedly says before hanging up immediately. He sighs, still in surprise about Nanako.

____

Adachi had been called by Futaba this time.

"Don't worry, I asked Sojiro to pay you for this," Futaba stated.

"Uh, thanks," Adachi replied.

The two were at the mall, the electronics section. He couldn't help but walk up to the TVs and inspect them closely. He brought his hand up to the screen, wondering if his TV world powers still worked here. But all he was met with was the cold flat screen against his palm.

"I would expect an old dude like you to love TVs," Futaba teased.

Adachi gave her an annoyed look, "I'm only in my late 30s."

"Old!" She repeated.

Adachi scoffed, about to retort that statement before she interrupted him, "Anyways, I wanted to call you out here cuz there's this awesome deal at the mall! You get a free featherman keychain with any purchase of a phone case!"

"You really love that show, huh?" he laughed.

"Well… yeah… we did talk about how much I liked it…" She looked immediately dejected when he poked fun at her. Oops.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," Adachi recovered.

The two walked over to the phone cases section, Adachi didn't have one yet, so he figured he'd buy one now since it was convenient. He gravitated towards the red one, while Futaba immediately reached for a green one. He stretched his hand to reach it, and he noticed a couple of boys pointing and whispering at Futaba. They seemed to be constantly snickering, and Adachi assumed the worst. Oh god, he did not want to be reported for being close to a high schooler. He scooted over to the left, making it seem like he was here out of his own will, pretending to be satisfied with what he picked out and started walking away. Futaba looked confused at his sudden leave, having a slight twinge of disappointment on her face.

Adachi noticed, and immediately went to pull out his phone to text her.

ADACHI: Sorry. Those boys were making fun of you. I didn't want them to think you were fooling around with an older guy.

FUTABA: oh

FUTABA: THX

The two waited till the group of boys left, and Adachi returned to Futaba.

"Okay, let's check out, I don't think you wanna be here anymore," Adachi rushed her over to the cashier.

He made Futaba do her best to pay for own phone case, he was still helping her with social interaction after all. Although, he still had to help her out with most of the transaction. The cashier cooed about him being a nice dad and he cringed at the statement. Him? Dad? No.

The two of them walked out in silence, Futaba looking grim.

"It wasn't that bad. You're gonna be doing this more often," Adachi says as he pats her head.

"Uh, it's not that," Futaba looked down, "Those boys went to my school…"

It didn't take the detective in Adachi to immediately understand: Futaba was getting bullied. He figured if he pushed on it more, she'd probably not talk. He's dealt with this before when Nanako had a small bully. (In which he pretended to carelessly stick his foot out and trip her bully when he was on his daily patrol.)

"I get it," He didn't need to say any further, "I'll walk you home." It's the least I can do, he thinks.

___

As Adachi drops Futaba off, he waves goodbye with a small smile. He turns his back and hears the distant chatter of Futaba and Sojiro. He takes a step, and he hears Futaba's loud footsteps and the jingle of the door opening again.

"Adachi-san, do you want to eat with us?"

Adachi turns around, surprised at the sudden offer. Well, it's not like he's going to turn down a free home cooked meal. He excitedly agreed, and let himself into the cafe, not noticing the large grin on Futaba's face.

___

Adachi could not stop thinking about the curry he ate last night.

He's eaten a ton of home cooked meals before since Yu offered, but there was something about that curry that made him crave more and more. (Sorry Yu…)He felt the taste on his tongue, and it pissed him off that he probably had to wait till the next time Futaba called him to have that again. He rolled around his bed angrily, a bit mad that he felt this way over some old guy's curry. There was just something different when he reluctantly ate Yu's cooking when Yu would come to his apartment, and when he eagerly ate Sojiro's cooking with Futaba. It felt similar to when he would eat around Nanako and Dojima.

He sat up from the bed, irritated at the oncoming feelings he's gotten. He figures he can just walk it off to get rid of it.

#my fic

2 notes · View notes

benlaksana · 3 years

Text

2021

youtube

It's been roughly a year and a half since the start of the Covid-19 pandemic here in Indonesia, and I've recently been trying to understand where I'm at. Not physically, as in physical space, but mentally and probably existentially. What is the state of my mind? I am aware that I've become somewhat bitter, my late nights are sometimes riddled with anxiety for what the next day may bring and reoccurring personal-collective grief has at times, and recently more often than I would like to admit, numbed me.

This may probably be my mind's automatic coping mechanism seeing all this death mainly as a result of how my government has failed us, its citizens, especially during a time of crises. And I really need to stress this point: how my government has failed us Indonesians during the times we need it the most and I very much believe that it is because of this why many of us Indonesians are in constant misery and haunted by that feeling of despair. If chronic physical pain causes constant daily anguish, I am not surprised if chronic physical and mental pain caused by structural violence causes persistent misery as well.

I'm somewhat fortunate in this regard, I'm grateful that I've learned ways to keep my sanity in check. My contemplative practice is key for me. Honestly, I wouldn't have gotten far in life without it. I have many people to thank, but Art Buehler especially, my former professor in esoteric contemplative/meditative practices who reminded me and pointed a certain possible direction of where I should head when I sense a lost in my life's direction, is one those I should thank the most. I know this seems like an individualized response to structural oppression, and I don't intend to paint such a picture, but I do believe we need some kind of mental stability to keep on going. To survive if not thrive.

Art sadly passed away in 2019. I received an email about his passing. And come to think of it I never really did allow myself to properly grieve for his passing. I don't know why. To be told through a short concise email that someone you cared for died, without having the opportunity to properly say goodbye feels like that person never really passed away. It is horrible way to end relationships. A sudden cut, nothing finalized, and since goodbyes are relational, now nothing can really ever be concluded. I have to make amends with myself and only with myself. If I said goodbye yesterday, or if I say goodbye today or perhaps tomorrow, will it ever be enough for me?

youtube

Life is individual yet also relational. It's good to have friends, family, people that care for you or the odd mix of all three to get you through life. So although I have these array of tools to possibly help get me through life but if the people whom you look for some kind direction is no longer present, I'm just not sure for how long I can maintain it if I'm doing all this by myself. Will a breaking point come to me?

The mind is a fickle thing, and the mind is as strong as its habits. Bad habits, bad mind. Good habits, good healthy mind (no habits, no mind?). They also say that things that might happen, will indeed happen. It is just a matter of time. If so, how will I break? To what extent? For how long? What will change? What will I lose? Will there be something renewed? Will I come out the same person? Will I come out changed but for the worst?

This is one of the things that worries me. That certainty of uncertainty. The certainty of breaking, the uncertainty of when and of its form. Will I explode in sudden exasperation, engulfed in madness? Will it be a quick balloon pop yet a slow descend into meaninglessness? An unabashed diatribe rant towards someone I care? Something that's just a twitter post away from me on actually doing it. Will this be an opening, an opportunity for 'satori', a sudden lift of the 'veil', bringing about comprehension and understanding of the true nature of things? Questions, questions, questions, not much when it comes to answers, is all I have for now. To be hopeful is hard these days and with the wavering hope, very much coming and going like waves, it has become incredibly hard to even retain any semblance of kindness. That is something I do not want to actively become a habit of. Without hope, comes the cold embrace of fatalism that many on the 'left' are guilty of. Clutched by fatalism, empathy becomes harder to come by. I've seen it, and I have felt it.

I know that my eroding sense of hope is connected to my personal dreams. Specifically how it has become very hard to actualize it. Rara and I never really planned on staying in Indonesia for long. I was confident enough, a bit too confident come to think of it, that we will be out of Indonesia by 2021 the latest. A mere 2 1/2 years after our last stay in New Zealand. The plan was for me to continue my studies, getting into a Ph.D. program and of course a scholarship. That was our ticket out. Hoping that we'll be back to our old routine in Wellington, in and out the university's library, my head in books, loving our 'flatwhites' while regretting having too much of it, the usual stint doing some university tutoring, community organizing stuff, lazy gardening, out and about on the weekends tramping around Wellington and if Covid did not happen or/and maybe if my government handled things much, much better I think that would've been the case. Or at least I constantly would like to imagine that would be the case.

youtube

Yet here we are still in Indonesia, me struggling to do my Ph.D. through this wretched distant learning, initially in the comfort of my home yet steadily devolving into cabin fever. And Rara with her own struggles trying her best to get back on her feet as an aspiring musician. None of it is going as well as we had hoped for. All this while juggling trying our best to keep ourselves safe and our families and friends safe. Both of us have become direct witnesses how challenging this has been, physically and mentally. Both of us slowly grappling with the continual kick in the gut, the never ending structural absurdity, violently absurd.

That slow grueling realization of how fragile our lives are. Not just existentially. It is existentially precarious yet at the same time understanding that precariousness in many of its aspects is structurally and politically maintained. It is this political construction of precarity, which Isabell Lorey elaborates in her book State of Insecurity: Government of the Precarious, that angers and saddens us the most.

Lorey provides a nuanced approach in unpacking and differentiating this thing called being 'precarious'. The three dimensions of being precarious: precariousness, precarity and then precarization. On precariousness, Lorey draw's on Judith Butler's conceptualization of precariousness which she sees as existential, relational and inevitable. I'll insert my existential philosophy and Buddhist values here, to help me see and more importantly accept the transient nature of life and that impermanence or change is the only constant. Our lives, our bodies are destined to die and wither away. We humans are fragile mortal beings. The loss of life, the loss of one's identity, the loss of everything that makes us, us is unavoidable. It's also a 'relational' thing, as in it is also a shared experience. Everyone will experience it. It is the great equalizer some say.

Then we have precarity. Yes everyone dies, but the process of dying or even the process of grieving someone's death is dependent on what Lorey see as the “effects of different political, social and legal compensations of a general precariousness”. Some die at young age due to starvation, riddled with poverty and disease and have nothing or no one to ease their pain, others die surrounded by family and friends in a well-cared for hospital. Some have days or weeks to grieve, others have to go back to work the next day as she or he have no luxury to stop working even just for a moment and simply grieve. To stop working even for a day draws some closer to the possibility of death for the person or those dependent on the person working. This is the inequality of dying and grieving due to our social hierarchies. How fragile we are, is dependent on those social hierarchies.

And last we have Lorey's third dimension, governmental precarization which is the instrumentalization of insecurity by the government. In other words, the government using the idea and the reality of insecurity as a tool or device to control its citizens. The calculated, deliberate attempt by the government in destabilizing our lives in order for us to be easily governed. Insecurity, be it real or due to perceived constructed fear of insecurity is an effective governing tool. The fear of being labeled "useless and lacking in contribution to the nation-state". The genuine insecurity of not being able to get a job due to the false understanding that it is simply a result of an individual's laziness rather than due to systematic government policies. The deliberate attempt in making our lives constantly insecure, constantly on the edge, without us initially knowing it and when we do come to understand, the blame is on us. It is normalized and it is internalized.

youtube

This is not simply a social issue, it is a deeply existential one as well. We Indonesians have very little to make us feel safe at the moment. Covid and the government's response to it has severely limited our movements and it's not simply physical immobility, but also an existential one, the inability to even have the imagination that our lives are actually "going somewhere", towards a forward direction. Perhaps some sort of minute incremental progress, but progress nonetheless. This imagined mobility is what Ghassan Hage calls as "existential mobility" and this immobility suffered by many of us is what he also calls as "stuckedness".

Turning an often momentary or the ephemeral nature of a crisis into something prolonged and perhaps even permanent is another part of the strategy of governmental precarization. Our lives or jobs are always on the line and again coupled with the sick prevailing idea that we only have ourselves to find the solution. The crisis is permanent, we don't know why but we've been told that way, if we fail to overcome it is because of our personal inabilities thus proliferating and intensifying this sense of stuckedness.

Forcing us to accept whatever solution the government-messiah presents us with in order to relieve us from this suffering. From labour laws that normalizes precariousness even more, to oppressive new laws that limits our desire and ability to dissent, to including who or how our enemies are defined, easily accepting who is to blame for all this insecurity we are all suffering.

Be it the long dead Indonesian communists, the Chinese Indonesians and the racist perception of them being "selfish and greedy", the Indonesian Islamists - the kadruns and their conservatism, the "foreign forces" whomever they may be constantly trying to take over Indonesia, anyone or anything is to blame. Anyone but the Indonesian government and its affluent patrons. Insecurity and the fear that rises from it renders many of us easily governable and compliant.

This governmental precarization and this 'stuckedness', which Hage sees no longer as a possibility that may or may not happen but an "inevitable pathological state which has to be endured" is how Rara and I feel at the moment.

youtube

Rara and I feel our lives are going nowhere. We feel that our lives are stuck, constantly rotating in a hamster wheel trying our best to overcome our precariousness. No progress, no forward movement, no growth, just trying our best to survive from this sustained uncertainty. It's an awful feeling, paving way to existential dread. We are very much looking forward to moving back to New Zealand as soon as possible but with the conditions right now, that is something I can't even dare to imagine.

And although I am grateful that the weave of our privilege with at many times just pure sheer luck has kept us alive and physically well for the time being, we both now realize that we have hit a proverbial concrete wall here. Adding to the already precarious nature of life here in Indonesia, our line of work as a fledgling social science academic and aspiring artist and what Rara and I aspire to do socially, what we aspire to become, easily ends in stagnation if we intend to continue to live our lives in Indonesia. (I want to direct you to Social Science and Power edited by Vedi Hadiz and Daniel Dhakkidae to get the gist of what I'm trying to get at here.)

This is a hard pill to swallow, harder to write and even more so to act upon. I am existentially tied to Indonesia, my family and friends are here, my father is buried here and so will my mother. Memories of the distant past, the colloquial language when shitposting on social media, my mind and body have been shaped by Indonesia in ways I possibly do not even fully realize. This is why I oscillate between guilt towards others and guilt towards the self. I feel guilty for simply having an exit strategy when many others don't, I have the luxury of choice. Yet I also I feel guilty for feeling guilty about this, as it means I am also neglecting the well-being of myself, now and in the future. I need to work on this and find my bearings, being stuck in a guilty limbo won't get me anywhere.

And the future is far from stable, I wonder what is on the other end of surviving this pandemic? There is so much collective grief, collective anger and of course personal anger. All this will amount to something, I'm sure of that. Although I don't know what exactly, I'm not entirely confident this something will be good. John Keane's new book 'The New Despotism' comes into mind.

What do I personally do with all this anger? I’ve noticed how anger, especially when it is on the verge of hatred, morphs itself and easily descends into madness, into aggression and often showing itself, unawaringly to us, when the act of expressing anger happens. Your mind becomes instantly clouded, ending in mindless action. This inability to have control over oneself terrifies me. I already have so very little semblance of control over life in general at the moment, if I truly have no control over myself whatsoever, what then do I have?

And I wonder if it is a waste of time asking these pseudo-intellectual questions? I don't know, yet I do know I live in a society where it hones aggression and hostility, whether it be in physical and digital spaces, and I would like to draw myself away from all this at the moment before I transform myself into something I do not wish to be. Anger I can fully understand, and it is needed and useful. Yet to actively transform it into deep blinding hatred and sustain it daily, is something I feel psychologically destructive for me and I'm trying my best not to go on that path.

I rarely update this blog I know, but this blog has always been used as a personal chronicle of how much I have progressed, digressed or both. And I needed to write all this, because I've never been this least sure of what my life should be like and where it should go. I know I am not alone at this. This pandemic has destroyed the lives of many, our futures, our dreams, our sources of love and I hope that anyone of you reading this finds a way to get through it, doing anything you can do day in, day out.

I'm not sure it if amounts to anything. Maybe it won't, maybe it will, or maybe it has but maybe we just can't see it. All I can personally do for now, is to hold on to these 'maybes', and maybe, just maybe I'll get through this too.

youtube

“Where must we go...

We who wonder this Wasteland

in search of our better selves?”

- The First History Man, George Miller

34 notes · View notes

imaginationintowords · 4 years

Text

Folklore [song series]

the 1

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s relationship throughout the years.

Word count: 2404

Warnings: smut implied, loss of virginity implied, mention of alcohol abuse, mention of abandonment

Previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 26

Year: 2020

Location: Brooklyn, New York

Elizabeth sat on the floor of her mostly empty childhood bedroom. She hasn't been back since Christmas, and that was almost 8 months ago. Her parents called her last month letting her know they are putting the house up for sale, deciding to move to a cottage upstate where it's much quieter.

They had asked if she wanted them to pack up her old bedroom for her, but she told them she would make the trip out to them to spare any storage space the stuff might take up, knowing that only a few special items would need to be kept.

She was sat on the floor going through old photos, the last thing she had to do before she would be done.

Photos from the time she spent here. A pile for which photos she will take back home, and a pile that her parents will keep. She was finally down to the last three photos, all flipped over on their back.

The first one scribbled in her mother's handwriting read:

Steve, Betty, & James. Halloween 2001.

She shakes her head at the nickname, she hasn't been called Betty in almost a decade. The nickname was tarnished, no longer having any special meaning.

She really should've kept it only for family.

She flipped the photo over. There was seven year-old Elizabeth, standing in between a young Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes both had their arms draped around her shoulders. All dressed up as pirates.

She smiled at the memory.

So young. So innocent. So unknowing of what the future held.

She focuses mostly on the boy to her right.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Her first friend here. Her first best friend. Her first kiss.

Her first boyfriend. Her first time having sex. Her first heartbreak.

The boy at the time she didn't know would completely change not only her life, but who she was.

Her first best friend here, she immediately thinks of their first meeting. So kind. Him insisting on teaching her how to ride a bike. Took him two weeks but he did it. That halloween was a memorable one, for both good and bad reasons.

She saw a different side of Bucky after seeing first-hand how his father behaved, due to his alcoholism.

Years later Elizabeth had learned Bucky's father's deepest secret, he had struggled with alcoholism, starting two years before her family moved across the street. It was a secret his family had kept until that Halloween weekend in 2001.

Bucky and his family had spent the weekend with Elizabeth's family, while his uncles came to take his dad away. His father went to go live with Bucky's grandmother and uncles to try and get sober. He returned home after three months, but sadly the disease was a lot stronger than that. His father was fighting a long battle that he was sadly losing.

After a grueling year his mother made the ultimate decision to divorce his father, not wanting to put herself or her children through the dangers once again. Bucky's maternal grandparents moved in to help his now single mother out, seeing as his father was no longer in the picture.

His dad would pop in from time to time never consistent with his visits, after Bucky turned 13 and Becca 10, his dad stopped coming around all together.

His father ended up meeting a woman who helped him get sober, they later on got married and started a new family of their own. Forgetting about the one he had abandoned.

The next photo was dated:

Summer of 2008.

The summer right before they started high school. That was the summer that they all reached peak puberty. Bucky and Steve shot up like weeds, while Elizabeth grew slightly in height. They no longer looked like the pre-pubescent tweens, and officially looked teenagers embarking on their first year of high school.

It was a candid photo of Bucky and Elizabeth at an end of summer party Steve had at his house.

The night of their first kiss together, and Elizabeth's first kiss in general.

It wasn't a cliche kiss that happened because a game of spin the bottle. It was a little more private than that.

Bucky and Elizabeth made their way back home on that cool summer night. The nights had just started to get cooler as the months made the transition from August to September.

"Do you think Steve knows how obvious he's making his crush on Peggy is?" Elizabeth asks breaking the silence of the walk.

"Probably not, I mean the punk is way to oblivious to notice that Peggy also has a crush on him," Bucky laughs, "Plus he's too chicken to even make a move."

"He's just shy," Elizabeth smiles, trying to defend her other best friend.

"Well he isn't going to get the girl by being shy," Bucky says.

"That's what you think," she winks at him.

"What do you know?" he asks her with an accusatory tone.

"That Peggy is going to ask him to go to the movies tomorrow night," Elizabeth recalled from her earlier conversation with Peggy, "That's why she stayed to help cleanup."

"Well then, I stand corrected," he bows his head.

"We should do that," Bucky says after a few moments of silence as they round the corner their houses now in sight.

"Help clean Steve's house?" Elizabeth asked confused.

"No, go to the movies."

"We already do that."

"I meant just us two, no Steve or Rebecca to tag along," Bucky reiterates.

"Like a date," he quietly says looking at his hands.

"Oh," it dawns on Elizabeth.

She felt a blush creep on her cheeks. The cool breeze not helping the warmth spreading throughout her face.

Elizabeth has had a crush on Bucky for as long as she can remember. She just always thought he would never see her in that light. Compared to the girls he's used to liking, she was the polar opposite. Her skin wasn't as pale as their's, she had what her mother called a "Puerto Rican" tan due to where her family lineage is originally from. Her dark curls were always everywhere, even when she had them contained. It's not like she stood out per se, they were surrounded by diversity. She just didn't look like the girls Bucky had a crush on.

"You want to go out on a date, with me?" she hesitantly asks.

"Yeah, I do," he smiles finally looking up to meet her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I like you," he says confused why she would ask that.

"It's okay if you don't want to, I understand," he quickly says when she doesn't say anything. He goes back to looking down and kicking at invisible rocks.

"No," she says grabbing his hand, making them both stop in front of her house, "I do want that."

Bucky looks back up taken back by her response, "Really?"

"Yeah, I would love to go on a date with you," she smiled so big.

"Okay, wow. Cool," Bucky stumbles over his words, his smile matching her's.

"Tomorrow, you and I will go to the movies," he says, squeezing his hand that was still being held by her.

"Perfect."

"Perfect," he whispered staring in her eyes, he glanced down to her lips then back to her eyes.

Elizabeth noticed bucking glancing at her lips, she couldn't help herself and do the same thing.

Bucky grabbed her other hand as he slowly pulled her closer to his body. Leaning his head slightly down. Both closed their eyes and slowly met each other half way, their lips touching in a soft kiss.

What felt like hours, but was only seconds they pulled away slowly. Smiles gracing their faces.

"I'll call you tomorrow for the details," Bucky says.

"Okay. Goodnight," Elizabeth says, still holding onto Bucky's hands.

"Goodnight," Bucky smiles, letting go of her hands before jogging across the street.

Elizabeth had walked up to her porch and turned around to see Bucky turning around from his own porch. She waved and he waved back, their final goodbye for the night.

That was the perfect end to the summer before they had started high school. It was the start of something new and beautiful.

The last photo read:

Winnie and Keith's wedding. 11 Aug. 2010.

She flipped it over to see her and Bucky smiling dressed in formal attire, next to Steve and Peggy.

Bucky's mom did later remarry while they were in high school. She had met a lovely man named Keith, who loved her deeply and her children as if they were his own. He was a good man, someone Bucky really needed in his life.

The photo was taken during the reception. Bright smiles across all of their 16 year old faces.

Both couples had been dating for two years at that point and things were going great.

The smiles showcased how happy they all were. Probably had to do with what they all had planned after the wedding.

They had all convinced their parents into letting them stay at the hotel the reception was at that night, and Bucky would drive them all back home the following day. Their parents had agreed, the only rule is that the girls would stay in a room separately from the boys.

What they know wouldn't hurt them, right?

It was the night they were all planning on losing their virginity. Their hormones were racing, trying to keep it contained as to not draw attention to themselves:

After the wedding they all walked up to the floor they would be staying at. Bucky waited outside the girls' door as Elizabeth gathered her overnight bag, and Steve doing the same from the boys' room.

She walked out with her bag on her shoulder, and a smile on her face.

"Ready?" he asked, grabbing her bag from her shoulder.

"Yeah," she nodded, feeling the nerves start.

Steve walked up to them with his own bag, "See you guys in the morning," he smiled before walking into the room, closing the door behind him.

Elizabeth could remember that night clearly. She had done a lot of prep beforehand, being an overachiever she needed to know what she was getting herself into. But nothing could prepare her for what had really happened.

It was filled with a lot of stumbling, awkward touches here and there. Both new to this sex thing. She's not going to lie and said it didn't hurt, she had prepared herself for it hurting. It wasn't the best sex she's had, but it was a moment she wouldn't forget.

After they were done they were cuddled in bed, Elizabeth's head resting on Bucky's chest as he smoothly raked his fingers across her arm.

"11:11, make a wish," Elizabeth whispered, closing her eyes.

"What'd you wish for?" Bucky asked.

"How many times do I have to tell you," she said, turning her body to lean on his chest to come face to face with him, "I can't tell you what I wish for, otherwise it won't come true."

"And how many times do I have to tell you, that that's not true," he teased.

"Well, you have yet to prove me wrong," she smiled.

"Come on, just this once."

"You," she stated, feeling the blush creep on her cheeks.

"What about me?"

"I wished for you," she says, "You and I. For us to have many more moments like this."

"Well doll, your wish is my command," he joked.

"I'm serious Bucky."

"So am I," his tone getting serious, "I love you Betty. It's you and me. Forever."

"Promise?" she held up her pinky.

"Promise." he linked his with hers.

They trusted each other. They were comfortable with each other. They had loved each other. And honestly that's all that mattered.

Now as an adult she realized how important your first time was. It was important that her first time was with Bucky, because she never regretted until she had.

She had really thought Bucky was the one. They would always talk about their futures together. What college they would attend together. When they would get married. Where they would live. How many kids they would have. All of it they had planned together. A future that didn't seem like just a dream.

Sadly with every first love comes every first heartbreak.

Her grandmother once told her that the greatest loves of all time were over now.

She had thought that when her relationship with Bucky had ended.

It truly felt like the end of the world. Like any breakup at that age felt like. She had sworn she would never feel love again. Her mother, Caterina telling her to just wait and see.

Caterina didn't believe in her own mother's words about greatest loves being over, because she was experiencing her's. She promised Elizabeth that she would experience her greatest love story when the time was right.

At the time Elizabeth didn't believe her mother. How could she when her heart was aching.

But like all the times before, her mother would be right.

She looked at the last three photos in her hands. Without a second thought she placed the Halloween photo in the take pile and the other two in the parents' pile.

A soft knock on the door frame startled her, she looked behind to find the man she has called her's for the last few years. Her greatest love.

She couldn't help the smile that came across her face whenever she would see him.

"Ready?" he asks, a smile upon his face, as he leans up against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

"Yeah, let me just put these back in the box for my parents," she tells him cleaning up the photos and taking the ones she kept for herself.

"Look at this one I found," she says showing him the Halloween photo.

"Oh my gosh, we were so little," he smiles and laughs lightly raising his arm for her to go under, "Gosh I was such a dork."

"Was?" she playfully jokes, wrapping her arm around his waist and snuggling into his side as they head towards the stairs in each other's arms.

"Hey you fell in love with this dork," he jokes back.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way Steve," she smiles leaning up to kiss his lips.

49 notes · View notes

kidmachinate · 4 years

Text

Sometimes, You Need Help Standing Back Up

Before I get into what this post now is, let me explain what it was. Similar to posts I’ve made, this was gonna be either a tragedy or thought masked in imagery/gaming/song references. I don’t think this is a shock to anyone, especially to a anyone that knows me. It was gonna be a quote that led into being a “gray rock” with some but not all context provided. This would be looped back around into using a pebble in Bloodborne to kill an enemy. Going through the long grueling process of doing that so I can be like, hey, I did it. Here’s the problem. It stems from an issue I have, an issue that some kind of outside validation is needed. Like hey, I did the thing. Crazy, given I try so hard to be a pillar of hope and inspiring to others. People don’t see what I deal with though inside and I’m tired. Very, very tired. So, this post will go in a different direction. To point at the only person there is to blame for all this. Me.

I have an addiction to toxic relationships. It’s true. Or maybe to fixing others. Is there a term for this? Call me crazy if you will but it is the truth. It’s not drinking, it’s not drugs, it’s not whatever else we commonly speak of…but I promise it is as real as it gets. I read this before making this post. Somehow...it doesn't make me feel better. This is without therapy. These are my thoughts of where it all stems from and why I cling to it whether it be in regard to friends, family, or partners. I will be bringing this up next session and seeing what I can do about it because I need help. Badly. More than Red Warrior needing food. Because my thought is always, I can see that in me. I too am not perfect. I can fix it! No…I fucking can’t.

When I entered a certain period in high school, I was slipping in both the relationship I had at the time by taking on a damaged partner and really dropping the ball on my grades. Said partner was always picked on. I get that since I too was mostly an outcast at school and not one of the "cool kids" as I say to this day. Before someone gets the wrong idea, let’s drop a hint. I got with this unnamed person which apparently held me back from many others I could have pursued, or so I was told. Oops. It wasn’t a crucial relationship in my life by any means, but I wish you peace…wherever you are. I knew I COULD do good and get the grades. My mind just needed to be right. I asked my parents for help. I specifically said the following and I verified this to make sure I didn't remember this incorrectly:

“I think I need help”

They only saw the report card and were like, hey, let’s get him a math tutor. That isn’t the help I was seeking. I asked a few more times, providing more and more context each time. It wasn’t long before I realized I wasn’t being taken seriously. I folded. These are patterns that continued on and on. Over and over again. I would see a math tutor for months. Bless her heart, I wouldn’t have passed math without her. I was slipping in other subjects as well. I worked hard senior year just to graduate. To prove I could. That I was “good enough” to my parents. Looking back, did school really matter? That’s a whole other conversation. Always having to look good for someone. That is technically what school teaches you. To be a good employee. Not an entrepreneur. To take orders.

Is this why it all occurs as it does and I carried it over to every aspect of my life? I don't know. It is my theory. I'll be talking about this with my therapist. In the later years, before Dad's passing, he started to understand why I was defiant at times. Did things differently. Still got jobs done even if not the way he said for the family business. Got zero complaints running the business in his absence. Told you I could do it. He understood. Miss the hell out of you Dad.

The thing is all of this led to me never at any point in time opening up enough to lay out boundaries. This was my mistake time and time again. Any attempt at showing emotion I would shut myself down. My Dad never caved and I'm in a spanish family. Gotta be a MAN! Can't go showing emotion and shit. What an old concept. I'm glad we're starting to change the narrative on that in the world. At times when I would try to make my feelings and/or attempts at boundaries in relationships that lasted long enough for this to matter, it would be shut down in favor or what was going on in their lives. That's fair. Let's ride this wave together. But then my scenario got overlooked. Constantly. Before the no contact suggestion comes, while I get it, it still doesn't solve the me mystery. I seek answers.

This all was my fault. If someone gets mad upon setting a boundary or opening up about feelings, that is probably a sign they were benefitting from you not having one. But how is one to know if it was never stated? I tried more than once but eventually caved, like I did back in high school. I'd brush it off and be like this is fine because I believed in the potential (another mistake) of insert any relationship here. Some didn't last long enough for this to matter but the ones that did took their toll. I could have done better. I'm trying to in the last few months and results have been quite telling. Regardless of what I discover with others, I still need to fix me.

What else is there to say? Not much. So how do we cope? We laugh. We acknowledge. We even make fun our ourselves. I used this before. I found my kirby.

I might lose some people after making this public. The thing of all this is the details don't matter and there is so much that will likely forever go unsaid. I've got a support group for that. The signs were there in each scenario and I stayed. The hard part is still wanting to care and also not letting the scenarios convert to hate and being jaded...and it is really...fucking...hard. I felt myself shifting towards hate so I needed to pull back. I'm scheduling my next appointment soon because I can focus on me without outside scenarios. If I haven't lost you, thanks. This is the most vulnerable post I've made on here. Possibly ever. We shall see. Intent matters, sure. But sometimes, you too, can be the toxic one.

If the healer dies, the raid goes to shit. Time to heal myself and get my shit together. Again.

4 notes · View notes