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anm3mi · 1 year

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GRAVITY ─ NETEYAM ⊹ ִֶָ

contents. fem!omaticaya!reader, friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentioned death

notes. might make a part 2, if anyone's interested - perhaps with a confession, so this doesn't have such an open ending ??!!

your mother adored children. ever since she was a teen, she dreamed of having a big loving family, but sadly, eywa appeared to have different plans. your parents were devastated. shortly before your birth, your mother fell ill. she was a strong woman with a big heart, so no one in the clan was surprised, when she fought the illness off. but battles leave scars, and your mother was left with an awful one in particular.

she could no longer bear children. it pained her - all her dreams crashing down. due to her sickness, there was a high chance you wouldn't survive the birth. but thank eywa you took after your mother - strong and fierce, yet a loving. you managed to survive and grow up to be a healthy child. you were their miracle, as your parents enjoyed to call you.

ever since you were able to speak, you'd ask your parents about the two of them. how the mighty warrior managed to capture the heart of a caring healer and teacher. you'd make them recite their story almost every night, as if it was some kind of a romance novel - something you were taught by the humans who stayed behind on pandora.

your father was barely seventeen years old, when he accidentally got injured during a group hunt, but the tsahìk's tent was overcrowded. your mother caught a glimpse of your father silently leaving the healing tent, as he assumed his injuries weren't too serious and he could handle waiting a couple of hours, but your mom couldn't simply shake her head upon it. grabbing his hand, she dragged him towards her own tent, before mending his wounds. your father swore he begun to fall in love with your mother from that moment on, as she was the kindest na'vi he has met. even her hands worked gently upon his bruised skin, and he couldn't help, but wish he got hurt more often.

now almost twenty years later, you recently have turned sixteen and didn't even need to think twice, before following in your mother's footsteps - you yearned to carry on her legacy. even though your mother could no longe have children, she still loved them. every time a na'vi needed someone to watch over their child, even for a couple of minutes, your mom wouldn't waste any time before offering herself. of course, she would never neglect you - raising you into a beautiful and kind young woman was her greatest pride.

with her natural maternal instinct and the constant feat of another war with the people breaking out, your mother saw an opportunity. she decided to teach younger kids - those who were too young to truly train, but old enough to understand. she'd teach them basics such as how to take care of smaller wounds, how to shoot with small handmade bow and arrows that you helped her make, or simply play with them.

your life was amazing. you had strong adoring parents and a good life overall, but eywa, once more, seemed to have different idea. the night your parents have told you the news, you couldn't stop crying, as your mother could only hold you close. her illness came back, but this time - she wasn't so positive of getting better once again. and when even your own mother saw it, you knew something was truly wrong.

couple of days before your 13th birthday, the sickness took your mother away. and for the first time, your life has crumbled. the colors were no longer bright and you rarely had a reason to smile. yet you couldn't dare to burden anyone with your issues. you were taught to speak of your emotions and feelings, but until this point in your life - you were perceived as a pure bright soul and on the inside, you still were. all you did was struggle a bit, that's all.

but before you could let the grieving darkness consume you, you had an another plan - to take your mother's place and become a teacher. help children understand the world they were living and growing up in. you were now 16 years old, sitting on the floor of your hut, children sitting in a circle with you. your lessons for the day were over and now you were simply talking with the children, waiting for their families to collect them.

laughter echoed inside the hut, but was soon interrupted by a new presence. your back was facing the entryway, while tuktirey - one of sully's children was sitting cross-legged in front of you. you never understood why she needed lessons with you, when both of her parents were great warriors, but you didn't complain. tuktirey was a bright child and a quick learner.

a small excited gasp escaped tuk's lips, as her wide eyes gazed towards the entryway. your eyes curiously followed, as she stood up and ran towards the entryway. "neteyam!" tuk called out with a grin, before throwing herself at her older brother. still seated on the floor, you stared at the older boy, who accepted his sister's hug with a grin plastered across his face.

glancing back at the rest of the children, you realised how all of them were preoccupied with either playing or chatting together, before you stood up and made your way towards the duo. you couldn't help, be a bit surprised at the sight of neteyam. up until now, it was either kiri or their mother coming to pick up tuk. of course, you weren't disappointed to see him.

during your childhood, the two of you have played together more than once, as kids close with age would often do. but soon, both of you got older and your responsibilities only grew. the two of you were training to be warriors, yet neteyam's title of the future olo'eyktan earned him even more duties. though you'd never admit it out loud, you felt bad for the boy, as you couldn't imagine the pressure he was put under. no matter how distant you two grew, you still considered neteyam a friend of yours and you silently hoped he did aswell.

"y/n!" with one hand holding onto neteyam, tuk used her another one to grab your own hand and pull you closer. "this is neteyam." tuk innocently grinned, clearly oblivious of you and neteyam already knowing one another. "hi." slightly bowing your head, you greeted him with a smile, your tone soft, as neteyam mirrored the gesture.

opening your mouth to speak again, you were interrupted once you felt a small tap against the side of your arm. with confused eyes, you glanced down to your side, noticing one of the younger children. she had a happy grin across her face, hands hidden behind her back, as she swayed from one side to another. "look, n/n!" revealing her small hands, the young girl was clutching onto a couple of colourful flowers tied together with a string. "wow," you breathed out with an adoring smile, before kneeling down, now at eye level with the girl. "it's very beautiful." you added. "oh, are they for me?" you questioned when the girl shyly offered you the flowers and swiftly nodded. "well, thank you. that is very sweet of you." in response, the girl only giggled, before running back to her friends.

now holding the small bouquet close to your chest, you stood up and turned your attention back to the sully siblings. when your eyes met neteyam's, he was already looking at you, the corners of his lips twitched upwards. "n/n?" with raised brows, he queried. his question wasn't demanding, rather curious and almost playful. you averted your gaze shyly. "it's a nickname some of the kids picked up on." you explained, as neteyam simply nodded in response.

"we better get home, mom must be waiting." picking up tuk and placing her against his hip, neteyam proclaimed. "thank you for watching over her, y/n." he added, wearing a soft expression. "there is no need to thank me. i love spending time with tuk and the other children." playfully ruffling the girl's hair, you admitted. "see you later?" you took a small step back, as you tilted your head to the side and awaited for an answer. you mentally scolded yourself, when you felt your face heat up at your own question. "see you later." neteyam announced with a smile, causing your grin to grow wider.

as neteyam slowly begun making his way home with tuk still in his arms, you turned around, ready to join the kids once more, but not before throwing once last look at neteyam over your shoulder. your heart skipped a beat in enthusiasm at the simple thought of you and the sully boy growing closer once more - resuming your friendship from childhood.

couple of weeks have passed since your first proper interaction with neteyam in years. each day, you'd get more excited to see him, as most of the time it was now him, coming to collect his little sister - unless he was busy, of course. the simple conversations you'd exchange in the entrance of your tent grew longer every day, but sooner or later, you two would always get interrupted by either tuk impatiently tugging on her brother's hand or one of the children needing your attention. the two of you would have to end your conversation and finish it another day.

to your disappointment, you didn't get to see neteyam every day for two reasons. you were still a person with your own wants and needs, meaning you simply couldn't watch over the children of busy parents all the time. at the beginning, you felt a bit guilty, but the parents assured you they understood. after all, even you craved for an alone time. the rest of your free time you'd spend with your father practicing. the truth was, you were a natural fighter due to your father's warrior blood rushing through your veins. you didn't belong in the battlefield, but you were capable of fighting and hunting, even if you preferred peace over violence. but the world could a be a dangerous place, as your father would often remind you, and you needed to know to protect yourself and the ones you love.

the second reason behind your lact of contact with neteyam was tuk herself. her parents were quite busy, but still found time in their day for their youngest daughter. and if neytiri and jake were too preoccupied, tuk still had her three siblings and grandmother. but even when one of her siblings was watching over her, many times tuk has sneaked away to join you and the other children of the clan.

it has happened more times than you'd like to admit - lo'ak barging into your tent with a frantic expression, desperately searching for tuk, after loosing sight of her, just to find her by your side. you could only smile at the memories.

speed-walking to his family's tent, neteyam's face was flushed in embarrassment. once his eyes fell on kiri, who was simply resting on the floor of their tent, he stopped dead in his tracks. "kiri." neteyam addressed his sister, unreadable expression decorating his face. "i though we agreed i'd pick up tuk today." he was still wearing his visor and flying gear, as he has finished his training barely half an hour ago. neteyam chose to not waste any time, before making his way towards your tent, only to find you alone, kiri has already taken tuk home and the rest of the children went home aswell. with neteyam's ears pressed down against his head, he quickly left, as you could only blink in confusion.

"you skxawng." kiri let out a groan, standing up from the floor. "kiri." glancing over her shoulder, neytiri warned her daughter, causing kiri to mumble a quick apology for her words. grabbing neteyam's arm rather harshly, she pulled him along with her, further from everyone's eyes and ears. "i went to pick up tuk," kiri begun, poking her finger against her brother's chest. "so the two of you could finally be alone." kiri rolled her eyes at neteyam's expression. "all i did was embarrass myself in front of y/n." crossing his arms over his chest, neteyam clarified, causing kiri to surpass another groan escaping her lips. "well, then go fix it." giving neteyam a slight push, kiri demanded. "i'm getting tired of you drooling over each other from afar." rubbing her temples, kiri quitely muttered, as she turned around and made her way back inside.

lips agape and slightly widened eyes, neteyam silently stood for a few seconds, re-thinking kiri's words, before snapping out of whatever trance he was stuck in. he begun to make his way towards your tent once more. with each passing second, neteyam's pace only fastened and it didn't take too long, before he was standing in the entryway of your tent. the cloth that'd usually cover the entrance was pulled aside, letting the warm afternoon sun rays illuminate the inside. back facing the entryway, you continued to clean, putting everything in its place, unaware of neteyam's presence.

"neteyam." you uttered in surprise upon hearing him clear his throat, finally catching your attention. you straightened your posture, tucking away a loose braid behind your ear. this was the first time you were all alone in what felt like years and the realisation suddenly hit you - the temperature in your body rapidly rising, as your tail swiftly flicked from one side to the other. what you didn't seem to notice is how neteyam's body reacted the same way in your presence.

"did tuk forget something here?" ignoring the strange feeling forming inside your stomach, you placed your hands behind your back. "she didn't, no." neteyam slightly shook his head from one side to the other. "i came here to ask you something." he added, causing your heart to skip a beat. you made sure to curse neteyam inside your head for making you feel the way he did - heat rising to your face upon hearing his simple words, shivers running down your spine when his skin collided with yours and the butterflies fluttering around inside your stomach when his gentle eyes would stare into yours.

"oh, alright." sending a small nod his way, you took a few steps closer, as neteyam did the same - the distance between you becoming smaller. "do you have anything planned for the rest of the day?" suppressing his eager smile, neteyam proclaimed. for a second, you averted your eyes, as you pursed your lips into a thin line and quickly thought to yourself. your duties for the day were finished, as long as you were aware. "other than cleaning the rest of this mess-" throwing your hand to the side, you pointed towards the stuff scattered across the floor, before continuing: "i have no plans." you looked up to meet neteyam's gaze, as he smiled in response. "would you like to join me for a walk in the forest?" neteyam offered and you didn't waste any time, before eagerly nodding. "i'd love to."

the two of your were practically skipping in excitement, as you walked next to each other towards the entrance of the pandora forest. nervousness started to built up inside you, as you decided to make a conversation to fill in the silence: "how was training?" glancing to your side at neteyam, you simply asked. "tiring, as always. lo'ak was acting more like an idiot than usually." at the recent memory, neteyam could only roll his eyes, while you let out an airy chuckle. "i still don't understand how you do it everyday." you announced, eyes once on the grassy path the two of you were walking on. "you mean train or put up with my brother?" neteyam teased, before you both shared a laugh.

"well, both-" you playfully admitted. "but mostly training every day. my muscles are still sore from yesterday." with furrowed brows, you explained and rubbed your aching bicep, where a small bruise has formed. "you get quite used to it after time- wait." neteyam suddenly stopped walking and you had no other choice, than to stop as well. "you're still training? i thought you stopped years ago." with a confused expression, neteyam tilted his head to the side. "i stopped for a while after..." you cut yourself off, remembering the reason. you quickly shook off the painful memory. "my dad thought it'd be a good idea for me to continue, even if i wasn't planning to be a warrior. after all, you never know what might happen." at your explanation, neteyam nodded in understanding and the two of you resumed walking.

"then why don't you join the rest of us?" neteyam offered, but you only shook your head. "i can throw a few punches and hunt, but i'm far too behind you." it was the truth - if you'd once again started officially training to be a warrior, you'd be put into one of the lower classes with younger children. "i'm sure tuk's a better fighter." at your playful words, neteyam couldn't help, but laugh and you softly smiled at the sight of him. "tuk really likes you, you know? she can't stop talking about you." neteyam confessed, causing your heart to swell with joy. "i'm convinced she'd ditch us just for you." once again, the two of your shared a laugh.

"trust me, she wouldn't. i've heard too many stories of her amazing brother, who's apparently a mighty warrior." the corners of your lips turned into a smirk. "she isn't wrong." playfully looking neteyam up and down, you teased him, before running further into the forest and disappearing out of his sight. neteyam couldn't be any more glad you didn't turn around to glance back at him, because if you did, you'd be able to see his flushed face and stunned expression. neteyam ignored his rapid heartbeat and followed the sound of your giggles.

once the sully boy has found you, you were sitting on the ground with your back resting against one of the many trees, as you stared up through the clearing of the tree branches, allowing you to see the sky. his eyes softened at your calm expression, before slowly sitting down across from you, leaning against a tree aswell. you tore your gaze away from the afternoon sky and pulled your knees to your chest. silence fell over the two of you, only for the occasional noises of harmless animals.

"y/n." neteyam softly called out your name and for the first time in minutes, you lifted your eyes off the forest ground, meeting his. "i'm sorry..." neteyam's voice was barely above a whisper, yet loud enough for you to hear. "what are you apologizing for, 'teyam?" you asked, genuinely confused. your nickname caught him off guard, but quickly he recomposed himself. "i should've been there for you." at neteyam's words, your soft face faltered, stomach tightening in a knot - knowing exactly where the conversation was headed. the relaxed atmosphere slowly faded away, changing into a rather gloomy one.

"when your mother passed away, i was supposed to be with you and not abandon you." shaking his head from side to side, neteyam admitted and averted his gaze away from you in guilt. "neteyam..." you whispered with a pained expression, but your call of his own name fell on deaf ears. "i felt so bad, but every time i've tried to visit you, your father-" his eyes still not meeting yours, neteyam continued to ramble after years of suffocating with the guilt. "then you stopped joining the trainings- i didn't know what to do."

neteyam was too preoccupied with his apology, he didn't notice you shifting closer to him and kneeling in front of him. "neteyam." once more, you called out his name and carefully placed your hand on his shoulder. looking up at the sudden touch, neteyam took in your expression. your brows were furrowed, yet your eyes glued to his were soft and a painful smile decorated your face. "i know." hesitantly, you removed your hand from his shoulder and placed it on his cheek instead. "my dad told me every time you have tried to visit me." you explained, before letting out a long tired sigh.

"i should be the one apologizing. i'm sorry for not coming to you and making you feel bad for something that was my own fault instead." neteyam wanted to abruptly shake his head in disagreement at your confession - to say you were wrong and he was supposed to try harder to comfort you, but he didn't want to argue. not with you. so instead, he stayed silent and leaned into your touch, almost melting once your thumb begun caressing his cheek. "i'm just glad we get to be friends again." you announced, the corners of your lips twitching upwards. "i never stopped seeing you as my friend." gently, neteyam placed his hand on yours, feeling a spark at the contact.

you were convinced your body was visibly radiating with pure joy, as you and neteyam spend the upcoming few hours talking, while sitting comfortably next to each other, your shoulders brushing together every once in a while. after the rather serious conversation, you two choose to rather joke around and catch up with everything that has happened in the last years. with neteyam by your side, you finally felt grounded - like all the gravity has returned to your life and for the first time in forever, everything felt right.

#avatar #avatar x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar twow #avatar twow x reader #atwow #atwow x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #avatar ☆★#anm3mi's works ☆ ★

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madpunks · 1 year

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i need medical professionals to understand that medical negligence kills.

i am in involved with my medical care- i have to attend therapy, see a psychatric medication manager, a primary care doctor, physical therapists, and a gender affirming care specialist. i am seen by a lot of doctors and have been in a lot of different medical settings. lately i have hit a rough patch where i cannot seem to have my situation taken seriously

my blood pressure has been so high, for months now, that i was within stroke and cardiac event territory several times. my doctors ping-ponged me between one another- i was prescribed blood pressure meds when i stayed in the psych ward in july. then my psych nurse refilled them, but told me my primary care doctor must be the one to refill them, because she doesn't know anything about bp meds. i asked my pcp, she told me "have your other doctor fill them out, then, since you had them filled over there before."

it took me months to get my life saving medications back. i cried in front of a receptionist at a later appointment where i was told the provider could not see me for our scheduled appointment time that day because "i hadn't filled out the paperwork". they never sent or told me about paperwork. they took my blood pressure after i explained my frustration and booked me for an emergency appointment with a pcp the next business day. but it took until i cried and my blood pressure was dangerously high from stress for someone to care.

i finally have it, now, but i am also fighting for my psychiatric medications as well. the psychiatric meds manager i mentioned above went on maternity leave and someone filled in for her. this doctor didn't know me. he asked me many questions, but never waited for my answers. he spoke over me, told me some of my diagnoses were wrong/misdiagnosed me, and took me off of several of my vital medications. he stopped my bipolar mood stabilizer because he said it didn't help with bipolar mania- he never asked if i was needing help with mania, depression, or mixed episodes. he just assumed.

he also stopped my seroquel- i am a schizoaffective person- because he didn't like the dose i was at, but because i am fat, he said i needed to be on the antipsychotic that was the least likely to put weight on me. he put me back on risperidone. i had been on it in the past. it caused me severe depression. he didn't ask what it did to me. he just put me back on it without question. i haven't touched those damn pills since i got them from the pharmacy. i am already severely depressed as is, i can't even fathom.

while i was discussing a personal event that happened in my life that affected me, my therapist earlier today asked me "why are you letting something so insignificant have power over you? why would something like that make you suicidal? why are you letting this person have power over you" i had finally lost my patience with her, and i snapped, and told her why i was justified in feeling so unwell. i gave her the context of my situation, and didn't back down. i'm firing her next session. later on, my case worker informed me that's victim blaming, and that it was not okay for her to minimize my issues or make me feel like i in some way made my feelings happen of my own free will. i felt so incensed i had to do something about it.

i can't really sleep at night right now. i can't focus, my energy levels are all over and my depression is ruling my life. im struggling with invasive thoughts and horrible painful suicidal lows. i need people to understand that this type of medical negligence can kill. any of this could've killed me at any point. this is not acceptable. this is what american mentally ill people in care deal with. please understand that this is not how anyone should have to live.

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jknerd · 8 months

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NIMH AU: Nicodemus

Full Name: Nicodemus Jacobs

Species: Human->IM-Human; Prototype (through experiment by NIMH)

Age: 100+

Gender: Male

Other names: Lord Nicodemus, Senator Jacobs, Prime Minister Jacobs

Occupations: War prisoner (formerly), NIMH Experiment (formerly), Senator/Prime Minister of the Bund of NIMH, Landlord, Co-Founder of the Bund of NIMH, the Prophet, an Alchemist

Residence: 1st Bund of NIMH (formerly), New Bund of NIMH (currently)

Family: Unknown

Relationships: The Great Owl/The Pope (old friend), Jonathan Brisby (close friend; co-founder of the Bund of NIMH), Jeremy Crow (friend), IM-Humans of the Bund (his people)

Likes: Jonathan’s kindness and heroism, Elizabeth Brisby’s dedication and maternal affection towards his people, Brisby children’s innocence Dislikes: His people suffering of PTSD from NIMH, Jenner’s growing lust for power, danger towards IM-Humans

Nicodemus Jacobs is a wise and mystical leader of the IM-Humans of NIMH as their senator/prime minister. He was once a. War prisoner and experiment of NIMH and a co-founder of the Bund with Jonathan Brisby. As a prototype of of IM-Humans, he is considered one of few powerful alongside the heroic Brisby, as both the prophet and an alchemist. Due to the experiment, he has prolonged lifespan/immortality and has decided to use his abilities to help the IM-Humans to settle without war or conflict with humans. When Jonathan met Elizabeth, Nicodemus was one of very few to be aware of their marriage and gave them his blessings. Later, when Jonathan expressed concern of her wellbeing and their children’s, Nicodemus offered him help by making a contract with crow spirit Jeremy and partake in alchemy to create the Stone that could protect Elizabeth and the children from potential danger.

When Jonathan was found dead in the arms of Virgin Mary’s statue, Nicodemus prayed for heavens and thanked their favor towards Jonathan’s soul, especially to Virgin Mary. He was seen reciting eulogy in Jonathan’s funeral and expressed consolation to Elizabeth. As he read Jonathan’s will, he quietly ordered Justin to silence the complaining council of IM-Humans. Since then, Nicodemus occasionally sees visions of futures or watch over the Brisby family. Year passed, he was informed the war ended between countries, but the influence of NIMH remained as the institutes want to track down the escaped IM-Humans to either recapture or exterminate them to cover their war crimes. Nicodemus find this as an opportunity to move the Bund to different location while helping Elizabeth to move the house away from the town.

At the day Brisby’s house become a moving manor and wheeled it’s way to the Bund, he witnessed through his crystal ball, preparing to welcome the family while concerned of Jenner’s growing obsession with power, fearing of the consequences if Jenner ever finds the Stone. As Elizabeth was escorted to see him, Nicodemus warmly welcomed her in person. When asked why Jonathan never told her about IM-Humans, Nicodemus explained to her about NIMH and Jonathan’s heroism. Afterward, he gave her the Stone, a ruby amulet, as he told her Jonathan has made it for her and their family’s safety, further explaining its powers. He then added another reason why her late husband didn’t tell her the existence of IM-Humans; the experiment in NIMH slowed their aging process as while she would grow old as normal human, Jonathan would remain young. Witnessing the children of Brisby family, Nicodemus recognized Timothy’s symptoms, deeming it as he is becoming just like his father Jonathan and the only way to heal his illness is when he conquered the sunlight as all Elizabeth have to do was to wait.

Explaining the moving plan, Nicodemus pointed out the only way for both sides to leave the town is either having Drago Welker distracted or drugged to sleep. When Elizabeth willingly volunteered to do so, Nicodemus accepted the offer despite Justin’s protest, noticing young captain’s feelings for her. Later, he was seen helping with his magic to move Brisby’s Moving manor and his people to leave the town. Unfortunately, Jenner immobilized the house, causing its weight to crush him to death. However, after Jenner’s death, as the moving manor was about to collapse and destroyed, the Stone around Elizabeth’s neck reacted through her courage as its magic spread wide through the range where it even revived Sullivan and Nicodemus.

At the day Elizabeth woke up, Nicodemus was seen smiling with Timothy who was running around the field in healthy condition fully healed and conquered the sunlight, as he finds out the amulet has not only revived all, but also awakened Timothy’s full immunity from sunlight, a miracle. He willingly offered to help with his magic to restore the Brisby’s Moving Manor, noticing Justin’s inner turmoil at the same time. At a night before the Brisby family’s departure, Nicodemus personally talked to Justin if he resents Jonathan for leaving him with heavy responsibility or his immortality contrasting Elizabeth’s, which Justin admitted the anger but not because of Jonathan nor his life as IM-Human. Nicodemus watched with compassion as Justin self-loathed for desiring Elizabeth and the emotional pain with the idea of her dying as human while he remains young. However, Nicodemus faked obliviousness when learning Elizabeth overheard them. Eventually when the Brisby family departed, Nicodemus watched with his crystal ball that Mrs. Brisby was no longer aging as human but becoming an IM-Human.

#The Secret of NIMH #The Secret of NIMH AU #NIMH #NIMH AU #Nicodemus #humanized #Mrs. Brisby and the Bund of NIMH #Mrs. Brisby and the Bund of NIMH AU

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sgt-morgan · 2 years

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Burden in my Hand ❤️‍🔥

18+ only, Minors on my page is a no no.

Moonknight Masterlist

Description: Marc is a hard man to love, but you are goddamn determined to love that fucker even if it kills you. Also, Deities, I decided what I wanted readers Patron to be.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, Angsty, Cannon typical violence, talks of alcohol, self sabotaging, blood, mental illness, manipulation, talks of a past EXTREMELY toxic relationship, alcohol, I got a sailors mouth, Su!cidal thoughts if you squint, joke mentions of smut, AFAB reader.

A/N: I was listening to Sound Garden (as I often do when I write for Marc) and this just formed in my head. The song Burden in my Hand is a little about drugs, and a lot about being terribly hard to love when you don’t love yourself. Didn’t really check for spelling or whatnot, if there are mistakes lmk.

🌘🌔🌒

The heat is what hit you first as you scowled into the sunlight of Cairo, chasing after your asshole boyfriend again. Your duffel where it was slung over your shoulder, and your sunglasses were your only source of cover for the moment, and you were beginning to question why you kept following after this asshole if he was hell bent on destroying his fucking life. Then you remember that not only do you love him, but you love his two alters too much to leave them high and dry when Marc was being a dick.

You finally secured a rental car and threw your bags in the open back, from your pack you pulled your phone and a scarf to cover your mouth and nose with. You were gonna venture into the desert, and settle this fucking score. You wanted to make it home in time for Casssie’s recital, and you’d be damned if that little girl was missing her auntie, and her Tio too all because her Uncle Marc believed he wasn’t worthy of your love, or deserving of your help because of a stupid mistake he made one time. When Jake makes a promise he keeps it, and you didn’t want to deal with his awful guilty mood if you didn’t make it on time. Marc had been writing an awful lot of checks he couldn’t cash lately, and you were fed up.

As you drove you thought back to how you woke up yesterday, and you could feel a deep pit forming in your stomach. You awoke to your bed being much colder than it should be, the other half being empty, the only thing left to remind you that your boyfriends were even there was a note. When you read it your stomach churned and your eyes watered in rage and anguish.

‘My Love,

I’ve gone to Cairo. I took the research, I’m going alone. I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for an idiot like me. If taking out this cult is the last gift I give you, then so be it. If you’re gone when I come back, it’s for the best.

Yours always,

Marc‘

Now you were in the stupid fucking desert, it was hot and grimy, and you really couldn’t wait to have a drink. For the moment though, you swigged bitterly from your water bottle and muttered to Juno about your relationship.

“Juno, he’s getting on my fucking nerves with this. How many times do I have to demonstrate that I’m not going anywhere, and that I’m not a delicate little flower, for him to get the point through his thick ass skull.” You muttered as the goddess lounged by you in the sand picking petals off of a lotus flower. You were currently scouting out the cult of Moloch, a cult you honestly could not believe was attempting to make a comeback, recently they had bombed a maternity ward in Cairo and one in Crete, (Thankfully you and your Boyfriends were on the case in both scenarios, so there had been no casualties.) in doing so, they had pissed off multiple pantheons including the one of your Patron goddess, Juno. You knew Mark was in Cairo seeking them out, you knew the last mission you had been on really freaked him out with the whole blood loss debacle, and he was still blaming himself for your freak out. You hadn’t been called upon by Juno in a minute, as there was really nothing that she had found troubling enough to send you out of the country, and there was plenty of work for you to do for her as a traveling Doula and secret crime fighter. She was the protector of mothers and children after all, and thankfully your area of expertise lead to you being able to save a number of pregnant women from scary scenarios all from your home city. Unlike Marc’s patron, yours had multiple Avatars in multiple places, you just happened to be her favorite, so she called upon you to do all of the heavy lifting when it came to the really terrible stuff. So there you were, working your boyfriends mission without his permission, and rolling around in the sand with an ancient goddess.

“Oh little avatar, I of all the gods understand your pain.” She shrugged, “Just be thankful your lover is faithful to you. He always comes back, and he always comes back without twelve demigods at his hip, so you have it made! Well little one, wipe these foolish mortals out for him and demonstrate your loyalty, and then, remind him why I chose you above all to be my avatar.” Her wicked grin made you smirk as you summoned forth her spear.

“Of course my queen, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You grinned manically and threw yourself at the men in question. “Hello gentlemen, I am Avatar of the Goddess Juno, and you have come to meet your reckoning.” Then, you did what you do best. You slashed and clawed and beat at these men with all your worth. Cleaving heads from shoulders and wrenching limbs from bodies with ease. You were covered in blood and hadn’t taken a scratch yet, easily bodying the twenty or so men in their little hide out. Then some dude caught you off guard and punched you directly in the mouth. You reeled back in anger and we’re about to drive your spear through his forehead, when a moon shaped dart flew through the air and sunk into his eye sockets with a wet thud. He screamed and fell to his knees and you easily dispatched him and spit on his still warm corpse.

“What in hell are you doing here!?” Marc hissed as he stomped towards you, completely ignoring the warmings of his alters, as they encouraged him to keep his cool. You stood before him in almost regal beauty, shrouded by moonlight, your suit in hues of rich royal greens and blues drenched in blood, face shrouded in clouds of rage, a singular cut above your lip, (that was already showing signs of healing) the only thing marring your terrifying beauty. That look on your face had never truly been pointed at him before, and he thought about putting himself out of his misery before you did, but he knew you wouldn’t kill him if not for the sake of his two innocent alters who if they could murder him, would.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me Marc Spector,” she hissed, the tone of her voice Austere and dangerous. Sharp enough to cut. He almost kneeled at her feet then and there to beg for his atonement, to find once again the favor of this goddess in her fury. “How dare you run out on me like that? Huh? Leaving a note and taking my research? Did you think I wouldn’t follow you? I found them before, I could find them again! Not only that, but daring to break up with me without the consent of your alters? You’re lucky you share a body with two innocent men, or I would rip you to shreds.” Her eyes were taking on a severe golden hue and her teeth were bared at him almost like a wolf’s. He really fucked up this time. Alas, if it weren’t for his pride he might have made it out alive.

“Lucky huh? Lucky to what, be stalked by you into the desert? Last time you soloed a mission, you had a fucking break down. Why the fuck would I want your help!?” He bellowed, but before he had even realized the words had left his mouth, he already wished he could reel them back in.

“Marc Spector? I would advise against you further angering the avatar of the queen of the Roman gods.” He heard Konshu mutter from behind him. Marc knew it was bad if Konshu was advising against his foolish actions.

“Silence Konshu, do not interfere with matters that don’t concern you.” You growled, “He wants to see my wrath? He can have it.” You growled driving Marc back with the tip of your spear until he was forced to his knees. “Listen to me Marc Spector, I have stood by you faithfully for the better part of two years now. I have helped you, and trusted you, and I have loved you. I will continue to love you, but if I have to turn my face from you as the moon from the earth? I will haunt you like a bad dream. My goddess is a goddess of loyalty, but she is also vindictive, and I too can take my revenge. You think on that Marc Spector before we speak again.” Then with a flourish, you were back to normal. Jeans and a black tank top, face streaked with tears. He saw, with immense guilt, that he hadn’t even realized you had been crying.

You stormed out of the temple and he heard a pop and the woosh of air leaving a tire, then the sound of your Jeep peeling over the desert sands. He sank back further onto his knees with a sigh and ground the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, yelling out in anguish. “Fuck!” He yelled, chest heaving as he remained in the sand. Then he filtered in what his alters were saying as they leered at him from shards of broken glass laying around in the remains of the cult.

“You are such a wanker Marc, breaking up with her? Really? Did you think that would work out for you mate?” Steven groaned from his reflection, rubbing a hand down his face in exhaustion. “You should have shot her, it would have been kinder!”

“Joder, ¿por qué intentarías romper con nuestra novia? Are you an idiot? You didn’t even try and talk to us about it. We’re in this together cabrón, you don’t get to make hasty decisions when you’re scared. We have a family to think about now. I promised Estrellita we would attend her recital, did you even think about that? Did you think about our niece? There are other peoples feelings besides hers now Marc. También merecen tu respeto.” Jake gruffed from another shard, shaking his head in disgust at this betrayal of their trust.

“Can I have a say in the matter?” He suddenly heard a feminine voice from behind him, and he turned to see a woman resplendent and hauntingly ethereal in the light of the moon that streamed in through the doors of the temple.

“Yeah,” Marc grumbled, completely nonplussed in the presence of a goddess, “Only if you put your two cents in while I change my tire.”

He settled in to work on the one tire you popped, somehow touched that even though you were mad at him, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him stranded, only mildly inconvenience him. He also noticed that you had tucked your water bottle in next to his, and taken one of his hotel keys. It was a sign that while he had totally fucked up, you still loved and cared for him, wanted to be there for him. He sighed, they were indeed lucky men to have you.

“You know, I chose her for a reason.” Juno said, settling on the hood of his car while he laid in the sand to loosen the bolts, his tired body sagging into the sand. “She is fierce in her loyalty, she won’t give up on a person till the very last. It’s what I admire most about her, actually. She has an enduring ability to see the good in everyone. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t get her in trouble though, the last man she had before you, he was trouble indeed.” She sighed, and Marc could feel his whole body stiffen. You don’t talk about your ex, you only talked about him so far as to tell them that you had made a mistake with him, and you wouldn’t be making that same mistake again. Marc was curious as to what Juno would say, and from the reflections of his alters in the rear view and side mirrors, he could tell that they were just as laser focused as he was. “He was a bad man, really he was, but he was very good at pretending to be a good one.” She mused, handing him a socket wrench as he continued to work on his tire. “He always promised her that the mistakes he made would be the last one, but they never were the last one. It went on until she found out that he got two other women pregnant while they were engaged. It took two babies for her to realize he was manipulating them. Asserting financial dominance over them to make himself seem like a bigger man. He gave them all rings, promised to love only them, and got two of them knocked up on purpose to get them to stay dependent on him. It was Fortuna herself who intervened on her behalf, her not getting pregnant. Told me she was destined for greater. So, I watched to see what she would do when she was cornered, do you know what she did Marc Spector? She got them all out of there. She slowly started funneling the other two money, and paid for those girls to go home to their families, taking nothing for herself. When he figured it out? Oh, he was infuriated. He beat that girl within an inch of her life, and the only thing she cared about, even in all that, was that those two women got out safe with their children. I snatched her up right there, and helped her to finish her vengeance. My only stipulation to her? Pick a good man, a trustworthy one, one who won’t hurt you. She insists that you are a good man Marc Spector, don’t prove her wrong.” Then, as if mist she vanished.

“I gotta go apologize.” He mutters, to the silent agreement of his alters. It takes him nearly half an hour to make his way back the the hotel he was staying in, and he was not surprised to learn that upon arrival, his ‘wife’ did in fact come in with a copy of his room key and ordered a bottle of whiskey and went directly to his room. He sighed as he trudged upstairs, thinking of all the things Juno said to him, and all of the ways he had severely messed up earlier in the evening. When he finally came into the room you were curled up on your side in his bed, wrapped in his tshirt, nursing a large bottle of booze as you softly sniffled into his pillow.

“Oh honey,” he muttered dry and feeble with regret and exhaustion as he watched you tearing up and taking another pull from the bottle clutched in your fist. “Don’t cry baby, please.”

“You don’t love me anymore,” your voice was thick with tears, “I want you to, but you don’t.” You cried, placing the bottle on the floor beside the bed. “The other two love me, but eventually they will stop like you and I’ll be all alone again.”

“Oh baby,” mark sighed walking wearily into the room and hitting his knees by the bed. His heart broke in agony. You were plastered. “That’s not,-“ he sighs trying to make up his mind on what to say to you. “That’s not true. I just figured you’d be better off with out me! You deserve to live a happy life without all my baggage.”

“I want Baggage Marc! I can handle baggage! I don’t wanna be alone in the airport terminal of life, lonely with no baggage! With you I’m not alone! I’m tired of being alone Marc!” You wailed splayed out in the middle of the bed, sobbing your heart out. It was childish, and it was a nasty, screaming, sloppy mess, (one that was sure to draw a noise complaint, if we’re honest.) but at least you weren’t icing him out. “At least if I have your baggage I’m not lonely! I could carry a hundred Marc’s if it means I get to talk to one Marc! Marc is my favorite guy! No, sorry, ONE of my favorite guys! I get three guys! I get a Marc, a Steven, AND a Jake! I love those guys, I want ALL the guys! But NOW I have NO GUYS!” You started crying again, and Marc would be tempted to laugh if your little rant wasn’t so sad. “I was so lonely Marc! Before you, I didn’t have my parents, my sister, my niece, friends, NOTHING! All I had was some bullshit man who wanted me to feel so lonely, and I did, I wanted to die Marc, I am NOT going back there. I won’t! You can’t make me!” With that last sentence you threw yourself at him and attached yourself to him like an angry, weepy, drunken, Koala.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Marc sniffled, as you clawed into his shirt whimpering, “You can keep us baby, I’m sorry. You won’t be lonely anymore, I won’t let you. You got your guys Honey, we’re all here and we’re not going anywhere. I was being stupid.” He hushed you and rubbed soothing circles into your back, while you still clung tightly to his shirt. He wanted to talk through his feelings, but he couldn’t do it like this. You wouldn’t remember, and he wanted his apology to stick.

Instead, Marc picked you up, and carried you to the shower with him, slowly uncurling your fingers from his shirt as you continued to mope, removing his clothes and then yours. He then picks you back up and caries you into the shower, letting you cling to him as he attempts to scrub some of the grime from your bodies while you cling to him as if any minute he might disappear. He then wraps your bodies in several towels and let’s you cling while your bodies dry. He dresses you both, making sure to put one of his t-shirts over you, and caries you back to your room. He made sure to call House keeping, and have someone change the sheets and bring you food while you were showering, hoping to put something besides at least two thirds of a bottle of liquor in your stomach. The whole time he’s caring for you, he lets you cling to him, knowing that in your drunken state you were searching for intimacy. He figures the least thing he could do was let you hang off of him while you were upset, at least you weren’t threatening him with a spear anymore. He feeds you, makes you drink water, take some Tylenol, and purposefully sets more out for you to take and drink in the morning, then he tucks you into bed with him. He hums softly to you as your breathing finally evens out, your arms still curled tightly around his body (almost painfully) in your sleep. Once he knows that you were a hundred percent passed out, he finally gives himself over to sleep, hoping that when he wakes, you’ll still be there, willing to talk.

Marc wakes before you, he study’s your features as you sleep, and slowly realizes that you are still tightly woven into his limbs, braiding your bodies together as if trying to meld yourselves into oneness. He reached the arm tucked under your head to play with your hair as the other gently strokes up and down your hip. Your body releasing a tension he has never seen it hold before in sleep. Then you start to stir, a small whimper bubbling up from your throat as you fight your way to consciousness from the grips of sleep.

“Marc?” You croak, throat hoarse from tears and sleep. He shushes you and reaches up to grab the water and the medicine, handing it to you with a small, sheepish, smile. You drink the whole glass in one go, downing it with ease. He rubs your back in soothing circles from where he leans against the headboard. When you finish, you lean back and sit next to him, your bodies pressed into each other, but not holding each other any more. You look to see Marc fidgeting nervously with the blanket, and you intertwine your fingers in a reassuring manner, leaning your head against his shoulder both faced forward staring at the Cheap motel artwork on the wall ahead. Sometimes, with Marc, there were conversations that were easier to have when your not looking each other in the eye, and this is one of them. “Talk to me baby, what’s going on.”

He sits for a second and ponders how to begin, still rigid in his fear of loosing you. “I, I guess I was afraid.” He shrugs, you soothingly run your free hand up and down his arm where you’re holding hands, waiting for him to continue. “I was afraid that I was ruining your life. I felt like I was adding unnecessary chaos to your already crazy life. I was so worried that I was hurting you in some way, that I never even considered that you-“

“That I like the crazy?” You laughed, “Marc, honey. Your version of crazy is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. It’s a crazy that compliments mine. I want it. I want you!”

“I know that now, I really do. I had an interesting conversation with Juno-“ he admits, and you bark a laugh.

“That meddling bitch, gods, sorry Marc continue.” You say, patting his arm encouragingly.

“It’s ok,” he chuckles, “but in that conversation, I finally understood that maybe, just maybe, even though I’m crazy, that you just might be crazy too. That you get my crazy and I get yours and maybe that’s all we can ask for in this world, for someone to understand our crazy.” He wooshes out a sigh of relief, and finally looks down at you with a watery smile.

“Yeah baby, I see your crazy, you see mine. That’s enough.” You nuzzle under his arm and wrap your arms around his waist and he settles you back into the mattress.

“I better call and change our flights, I’m not prepared for the consequences of pissing off Allison and Cassie.” Marc mutters, and you can feel him tilt his head towards the mirror near the bed.

“No te preocupes, I did it while you were sleeping, and ordered flowers for her. You leave in two hours, check out is in 30. Your bags are packed. ” Jake winked from the mirror at Marc, and he began to chuckle.

“What’s up?” You begin to giggle, looking up at Marc with love struck eyes.

“Jake woke up and changed the tickets already while we were sleeping, he packed for us.” He laughed, “He even ordered flowers for Cassie.”

“Holy shit.” You begin to giggle pulling yourself out of bed. “He put out outfits Marc, the man is smitten.” You grinned, pulling your toothbrush from the top pocket of your backpack, as Marc began to stir as well. Then you noticed something else with the outfit. “Oh my god!” You cackled as Marc began to brush his teeth at the sink.

“What is it babe?” Marc giggled at your obvious mirth, peeking out of the bathroom.

“That asshole didn’t lay out underwear!” You laughed harder. Marc whipped his head towards the mirror and was silent for a second, before he was crying in laughter. “What babe?” You giggled.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” he wheezed, “But that was all Steven!”

“STEVEN WITH A V YOU SLY DOG!” You cackled, digging for a pair in your backpack and suspiciously coming up empty. “There’s not any in here!” You gasped.

“Now that was all Jake!” Marc laughed, “I knew I had them for a reason!” He giggled.

“C’mere you pervs!” You laughed launching yourself at Marc and plastering kisses all over his face.

“I love all three of you so much, never try to leave me again” you smiled leaning up to kiss him again.

“Wouldn’t dream of it baby, wouldn’t dream of it.” He smiles rubbing your noses together.

“But seriously babe, where’s my underwear.”

#moonknight #moonknight x reader #marc spector moon knight #jake lockley moon knight #steven grant moon knight #moon knight story #moonknight fanfiction #moon knight #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #marc spector #steven grant x reader #steven grant #Spotify

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bubblyernie · 11 months

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I'm so very normal about Cam and I'd love to hear a bit more about him 🙈

grins in an evil devious way

YESSSS

Okay, im so excited, ill put it under the cut though EHEHEHE

Cam is one of those characters that in my opinion is there to be....like....deplorable. Like Erik from phantom of the opera (i actually have an AU of that in my queue for July OTL sorry its so far, pride got a big chunk of june), in the "yeah toxic absolutely mansplain manipulate manslaughter but if evil why sexy?" I think its great to love morally questionable characters and i love love lovvveee cam

Okay so backstory first, then other tidbits — long story short, imagine being so fucking cringe you get cucked by 3 generations of the same family and then end up being such a nice guy about it you turn evil. He's like "he's irredeemable. Oh wait he is redee- never mind he's actually still gross"

----

Cam is a changeling and a hexblood. He's super duper in kahoots with Alphonse's whole family tree — you don't tend to age that fast in the feywild, that's important to keep in mind. He was born to like really humble family in the feywild, adopted and raised by an aunt (h-hag), unseelie court (not evil, i don't like how binary some people make the seelie and unseelie court, but theyre definitely opposing sides). And he worked really hard to get his career off the ground.

Cut to when he's a young lad, like 20 in whatever the equiv of fey ages are. Kinda falls for this Seelie gladiator who he saw performing (for the royal court) and loooooved the thought of performative battle. That was the monk-barbarian Maxmillion Zeus Chiore who's Alphonse's maternal grandpa. Max is like nah dude I'm a player, accidentally knocks up a woman and has to take care of the child who he was a really good dad to and ended up being kinda mellow.

Cam's like ugh he lost his flair. I wanna be a performer though. Grinds his ass learning to do ballet dancing, opera, and stage direction (Maestro bard). He's a really solid singer and since he's a changeling, he's usually deemed to be like a double or understudy — obvs wanes on him a little bc he wants the spot light. Years pass, he spots Max's daughter, Aesta, who leaves the royal court performing gig to be part of a travelling bard theatre troupe and he's like YOOO ill join you. So he does, they're really solid together, Aesta's an actress mainly, and Cam's like......bites lip. Aesta turns him down, and no matter how hard he works to try and convince her she's just not interested.

At this point. He kinda has this "I've busted my ass for everything in my career and my life i came from dirt. You noble seelie mfs are so dismissive of my feelings bc you have everything already, give me a chance" RED FLAGS ALL OVER. Worst of all, Aesta fucks off to the material plane for a while and Cam catches wind she married a MATERIAL PLANE ELADRIN, whos not a performer, he's a samurai. At this point he blows his fucking lid and storms off to his aunt like OOOH why i oughta!!!

At this point in a fit of rage he decides to swear an oath of vengeance (he's an ancients paladin) on behalf of the seelie court. Also becomes a hexblood — so the catch is that because of this, he has a crown of eldercross and a curl on the centre of his forehead (when he's good, he's very very good, but when bad, he's horrid). And every disguise he has now has a limit as his punishment.

Timelines diverge here — in one timeline, he actually DIES (slipped on a tomato, fell off the stage and broke his neck. So cringe) and now has a revenant bullshit thing going on. The other one, he unfortunately lives and ends up being the guard of Hallow King and the Unseelie side of the Harvester's Passage (its a two way door that connects the courts at the autumn court. Duke is on the other side).

Long time passes. This 7'6" fucking idiot falls through a fairy ring, he hears through duke who heard through pin that this guy is a chiore (goes by Alphonse Alpenski) and Cam is just livid bc alphonse is kind of a freak accident as material-fey offspring is pretty much impossible — its the genealogy of plants and crossbreeding, just doesn't happen. Swears like I'm going to end this fucking bloodline — tries to flirt with him for two seconds and Alphonse is like...damn dommy king okay bites lip. but at this point cam is just so enraged he cant even think about anything but hate LMAO

------

Modern AU is kinda funny bc theres none of that weird family shit going on he and alphonse are just in a kink dynamic. Uh happy pride ig. They both kinda hate each other but in a mutual respect kinda way

Tidbits though uhh

All my fey are based on a type of insect or animal. Cam's is a chameleon, his armour is based on golden tortoise beetle shells.

His eladrin version has chameleon plant leaves

His name is a poorly disguised pun. Cam(eron) O'Vladjcik - Camouflage

His main stage person is a tiefling named Martinus (discoverer of the chameleon plant) Dolos (greek god of deception) who has a kinda matador outfit, and Seamus, a satyr.

He's agender but always uses he him regardless of presentation.

Modern AU, has a horribly modern industrial style home that looks like it costs a million. Also keeps his granola and coffee pods in big glass jars. Almond mom energy. And he smokes. Yucky

Kinda hard to avoid in dnd setting but a bit of a hypochondriac.

Lot of the sock and buskin (theatre masks) motifs going on for him. Its why his face looks like that. SJFDKFD

His spells are flavoured to be theatre themed (summons a broom like Enter stage left!! Spotlight faerie fire, mannequin spirit guardians, trapdoor misty step, etc.) he is a theatre kid above all else

Hes like a homophobic homosexual

Spanish accent, baritone singing voice.

Changeling, bard expertise, actor feat -- my deception is +15.

Big art snob, i really love him, i talk shit but i actually really do enjoy writing his character, its fun playing insufferable npcs

im sure theres more but thats all i can remember rn. sorry its so long

#ANYWAYS #sorry im INSANE #about my Ocs #cam #oc #ocs #changeling #dnd #unseelie #fae #fey #feywild

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psychosodomy · 2 years

Text

hm i woke up mad again about the haunting of hill house neck flicks adaptation so i need to exorcise this before i can even read another book. this is an essay rant lol. i can’t arrange my thots in stream of consciousness purple prose

dramatis personae, italicized is their novel equivalent

eleanor “nell” crain as eleanor vance

hill house as hill house

parents:

olivia crain as eleanor vance’s mother

hugh crain as dr. montague, [and mike flanagan’s full-time self-insert]

siblings:

steven crain as dr. montague [and mike flanigan’s part-time self-insert]

theodora crain as theodora

luke crain as luke sanderson

shirley crain as ???

others:

the dudleys as the dudleys

abigail dudley

arthur as eleanor’s husband/The Black Guy Who Dies

the attic as the ‘heart of hill house’

Narrative differences:

protagonist. the person leading us through eleanor’s story is now steven crain, nell’s brother. eleanor now takes a different role in her own tragedy. she is one of hill house’s ghosts, from the moment you begin reading the novel, and reading it is like letting her haunt you for a moment in time. but flanigan’s thematic focus is on [mumbles something about mental health and toxic masculinity and grief and familial bonds] and so the viewer isn’t allowed to linger on eleanor vance. otherwise they’d be sad. steven crain gives us a different pair of eyes through which we watch eleanor’s tragedy unfold. it’s not necessarily bad to give us a different narrator to a tragedy. but in his telling, the camera pans away from the wreckage of eleanor’s life, towards a smiling caucasian family. you leave the tragedy now feeling good because kumbaya, family!

the main characters are now a real family. in the novel they play pretend at being family. this decision could have been fun. like what if they couldnt escape eleanor being Like That? how would she haunt a story where their play pretend became real? but the show takes a different route. namely, it radically alters the presence of eleanor vance’s mother and center stages a different tragedy that takes place in hill house. outlined here:

the dudleys have a daughter, abigail, that they overprotect.

olivia crain has psychic abilities and underlying anxieties that leave her vulnerable to a ghost in hill house that killed her own children. this ghost convinces her that killing her own children will protect them from the outside world. nothing at all is shared about olivia crain to justify her vulnerability to paranoid delusions, by the way. the setting of the show is in the 80′s, so maybe it’s due to the cultural tone of stranger danger. she’s overall portrayed as this gentle and loving figure. the moments where this gentleness falters is where her Mental Illness possesses her and makes her dangerous.

olivia crain, from the combined pressure of hill house and these delusions, take the smallest children in the house-- nell, luke, and abigail-- upstairs for a ‘tea party’ where rat poison waits in all of their teacups. hill house wreaks havoc around the other crains so that they are restrained and olivia can complete the tea party for it.

finally, the dudleys keep mum about abigail dying because it means that she can stay protected like they wanted. they keep their silence so well that the kid crains have suppressed all memory of abigail. i can’t blame them either because so did i lol.

the end for olivia crain, except that her ghost lingers in hill house as a malevolent force that demands her family die to keep her company there as long as hill house stands.

he goes for nuance around maternal conflict with a ham fist. instead, he strikes on ableism, and bowls over all the feminist readings of shirley jackson. in jackson’s hill house, what makes eleanor vulnerable to hill house is like... everything? it’s not just the things in her mind, it’s also her inability to cope with them, the implied c-ptsd of living with her mother for all her life, her lack of support, and a low view of herself. social stuff. and all of those things are heavily connected with eleanor vance’s gender. she is half a woman because of her aloneness, because of her poor relationship with other women, she hasn’t even spoken to a man alone before, and a man is what makes a woman in 1959. hill house does more to puppeteer all of these things against her than summon her mother’s ghost. flanigan’s mother vance is a confused portrayal of a complicated mom. olivia crain is flanigan’s kindergarten portrait of ‘mommy’. the mommy has a smiley face and a tear under her eye. that’s his nuance.

the conclusion of hill house and its narration leads me to believe challenging toxic masculinity had very little to do with its creation. in the end, hugh and nell crain are martyred for the others. the other siblings are altogether forgiven by nell’s ghost, because her new purpose is to keep olivia crain and hill house at bay from the others. hugh crain dies to save his kids cause just what a dad does for his wee’uns. one point for hugh crain fighting 1980′s toxic masculinity is that he finally reveals to the children what happened at hill house. but not really. he shares this information with steven in a very shounen protagonist scene where they confront hill house side-by-side to prepare steven for his journey to fatherhood.

snatches of prose recontextualized for the screen:

“and whatever walked there, walked alone”

eleanor vance craves and fears being alone. but it’s her fate. she dies alone. every time you pick up the novel and end it, she will be walking alone in hill house. in flanigan’s hill house, she dies to accompany her mother and father in that goddamn attic. enough said.

“i am home, i am home[, she thought;] now to climb”

this is the beginning of the end. hill house has completely overtaken eleanor vance now. as she walks up the rotting stairs of the library tower, it will be her last night at hill house. this is eleanor’s second near-death experience in hill house. both of those experiences are fake-out foreshadowings to her imminent death. the way she tipped herself over the balcony at the beginning, you’re sure it’ll be a fall. the story of the companion makes you think she’ll hang herself, and the staircase scene on first reading nearly confirms this. but it’s more important that she drives into the tree because the car was what carried her into the story. it will carry her out. flanigan’s eleanor leads us up to this point in her story, and hangs herself. she is not enclosed in hill house’s euphoric haze. she’s terrified. but fear not, she’ll return again as her siblings’ angelic guardian against hill house. this quote in flanigan’s hill house is recited by steven crain reading his book aloud, as he comes home to his pregnant wife. the same wife who separated from him because he lied throughout their last conception process and pretended he didn’t get a vasectomy cause he was afraid of his mother’s neurodivergence being hereditary. his recitation of the line is a generic reiteration that home is where the heart is. the original line in-text forces the reader to imagine home when it’s poison, but shit, at least it’s somewhere to be.

when you adapt a piece of art, it’s like summoning ghosts. hill house is a haunting. most importantly, it’s eleanor’s haunting. shirley jackson was not playing about being a witch. mike flanigan was definitely kidding himself about being literate though.

#too lazy to reformat this for my reading blog #note 2 self #haunting of hill house

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indelibleevidence · 1 year

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My maternal grandmother came to pick my mother and I up to buy something for my mother. She's not eating right, where if she eats something, or drinks something, a little bit of vomit comes back up. Like a regurgitation (I don't know too much about what it is, but that's the gyst of it. She is waiting for a stomach scan at the hospital). Apparently there was something at the local chemist where it's a smoothie shake to help get nutrients into the body. But my mother got stubborn, where she and my grandmother started fighting. My mother started crying, because she didn't want to get the smoothie shake (which costs $60) because she had a similar smoothie shake, where it all came back up again. And she doesn't want to spend $60 on a smoothie shake if it's not going to work. Anyway, my grandmother stormed off and said it's not my problem if you kill yourself, and my mother and I walked back home instead. Ever since then, I've felt really down. I get what my grandmother is saying because she's trying to help, but I also get what my mother is saying because she knows more what's going on, but people don't always listen to her.

And yeah, I just don't know what to do. And I don't have any friends that I can talk to about this

That really sucks, anon. Family drama is hard in any case, but family drama that involves health is awful.

Sounds like your grandma doesn't want to believe that your mother knows what will trigger her symptoms. She's probably worried and trying to help, but by not listening to your mother, she's making a difficult situation worse. :( And $60 is a lot to spend on something that probably won't help - your mother will need extra nutrients if she's having trouble keeping food down, but if she's going to vomit up the shake before her body can absorb it, it won't do much good to drink it.

I'm not a doctor, or medically qualified in any way, but as a disabled person with food absorption issues, I think your mother made the right decision for herself, even if your grandma didn't like it. Hopefully the doctors can come up with a way to help your mother keep her food in her stomach.

I think people like your grandma so badly want to be helpful and fix the problem, they don't stop and think whether it's a problem that they can fix. Your mother knows her own body's reactions best, and if she's seeing doctors for tests, she's already taking steps to try to deal with her symptoms, which is great. In that kind of situation, it sounds like your grandma needs to take a step back, be there for your mother (and you!) if needed, and be supportive in different ways, like driving your mother to her appointments or whatever.

I hope your grandma can calm down and listen to what your mother is saying to her, and apologise to both of you for leaving you stranded. Being worried isn't an excuse for getting offended and being hurtful, and I can definitely understand why this has upset you. I hope your mother's scans and doctor's appointments give her a way forward towards solving the problem.

It's awful to be caught in the middle of an argument, especially when you can see where both sides are coming from. It doesn't sound like your grandma is being very mature or understanding about the situation, probably because she's scared that your mother is seriously ill. I'm sorry you have to deal with that, especially since you're obviously worried, too.

Maybe your mother could ask her doctor about whether shakes are likely to help? That way, she could tell your grandma that she's following the doctor's advice, and that might calm your grandma down a bit.

Hope you're all feeling less stressed out soon, anon.

#ask response #disability

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dancing-under-red-skies · 1 year

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EL TANGO DE DIABLO Chapter Four: People Think I’m Insane because I am Crying all the Time

Everything had gone off without a hitch, and Solana exuded excitement in the face of it.

Terzo understood that his rescuing was of a great purpose than the mere saving his life. From this venture on he had signed his soul over the devil in exchange, he would become the reincarnation of the angel of music.

“There was one before you,” he heard Solana recall in his mind, “but only one. He, too, was shunned by his family. Left doe dead and the scrape for his survival as a young boy. In the face of that he had been kidnapped, tortured abused… But, as a baby, I had bestowed upon him incredible strength and an enchanting musical ability. One that would allow for him to seduce anyone he wished.”

She had taken her fingers then, using her index finger and thumb to pinch the skin between her eyes while releasing a deep sigh from her lungs.

“But, unfortunately, his lack of family bonds and emotional rationality, his gift was instead used to tempt in way he should not. It led him to making ill-fated decisions based in rage and rejection all because that is all he knew for the duration of his life. I supposed that was my fault for not foreseeing how much his mother shunning him as she did would affect him.”

As she spoke, Terzo could feel as his own maternal wounds began to ache.

The man had been cursed with the largest heart from the day he was born looking at everything through the rose colored lens of love. There was beauty to be found everywhere so long as he was willing to scour for it… even in the face of his parents violent relationship and the outlashing that brought upon he and his brothers in the face of it. Even thinking about it seemed to cause scars on his back to ache as he told himself that his parents were simply being cruel out of love. Because when it was all over, he still loved them.

However, that love wasn’t enough.

That didn’t stop the murder of his brothers and that didn’t stop the attempted murder on him. Their father was ready to do away with them all as quickly as he was gifted them and, as such, the very wounds she spoke of in regards to this angel seemed to live inside of him… he could feel them as his own, and it only drew him in closer to what Solana was saying.

“There has yet to be another like him. Literal centuries it feels like. That was, until you were born.”

She had extended a finger outward, laying it over his chest right over where his heart lived. “You were made of something special from the very beginning and it showed in your nature. There was nothing that you couldn’t endure that wouldn’t leave you smiling…” She had taken her pointing finger and reached to hold the curve of his jaw instead. “Even when there were things that you endured that you shouldn’t have had to smile through.”

In that moment, Terzo had never felt so close to anyone. Solana had seemingly done everything right and she was so patient. She made sure to guide him through this process instead of force him and as such, he felt all the more inclined to do whatever she wished.

Thus, bringing him to stand at the glass door of a three story building that appeared to be made of nothing but glass.

His reflection showed his painted face paired with matching suit and shoes that Solana had delivered for him. Given the nature of the event she had instructed him to drive the car he’d taken up the mountain and meet her there at the office. She’d made it explicitly clear that she wasn’t going to let him meet the Devil for the first time by himself. Though he didn’t ask her for her reassurances, there was something about her piercing emerald gaze that insisted she could read his mind and pick him apart every time his mood seemed to shift.

As such, she would answer accordingly.

With a deep breath he looked around to make sure that she wasn’t waiting for him outside before pulling the door open and stepping in.

His dress shoes clicked against the pristinely polished marble floors with careful ease, not wanting to draw a lot of attention to himself as he moved towards the check-in desk.

“How can I help you?” Asked the older man behind the counter. His staggering blue eyes were near distracting as Terzo stood there nearly star struck at the sight. The older man seemed unbothered as if he were used to people being taken aback such as he was, allowing him all the time he needed to recover.

“Hi I’m here to meet…” he started to speak, his brows furrowing forward as he did. For a moment he felt as though he were a lunatic and was going to be treated as such should he finish his thought. It was then that he leaned forward over the counter, as if the nature of his visit had to be a secret, before he said, “that Devil…” in a hushed tone.

The older man chuckled at the sight, shaking his head as he said, “first time?”

Terzo was a bit startled at the perceptive nature of the old man, reeling back from his secret sharing position as a response.

“Don’t worry, this type of thing happens all the time.”

As he spoke the blue-eyed man typed away on his computer, reaching over to press a few buttons on his phone in order to let someone know that Terzo had arrived for his appointment. No sooner had the words left his mouth a secret door just to the left of the man popped open, slowly coming open to reveal the rest of the office building behind it.

“Terzo?” Said the man who had opened it. This one was much younger than the old man running the desk, his eyes a staggering auburn brown and just as enchanting.

Nodding his head, it was all the confirmation he needed to offer before he was gestured to step inside. Having taken a step forward to show that he was eager to do so, he had to take a pause to look over his shoulder. Solana said that she would be coming with him, that he wasn’t going to have to do this alone… yet… she was nowhere to be found. The very truth of it made his heart ache especially when just the night before she had allowed to be feel as vulnerable about the situation as he did.

With a somewhat depressed sigh he turned back on his forward path, stepping behind the door that soon became invisible again as it closed behind them.

They had to travel through an assortment of different spaces like zones with cubicles, a dressing room, a performing stage… it were as if the building was an entire world in itself, where a person could enter and never have to leave if they so wished. For some reason the very thought of it made him feel safer, more than he’d been before… but still not enough to endlessly remind himself that Solana wasn’t there.

“Right this way,” the brown-eyed man said, waiving to another man as he passed. The entire place seemed to be driven entirely by men and as such, it only affirmed how close he must be getting.

Watching as the man reached out to lightly tap a wall yet another invisible door opened, this time revealing a vast office. The ceilings were much higher than they should have been given the layout of the building and the surrounding windows that offered a view of the outside seemed almost misplace. It was disorienting, as if he no longer knew where he was… as if he hadn’t just explored the halls to get there…

“Have a seat, it shouldn’t be long,” the man said softly as he used a flat palm to gesture outwardly.

“That soon?” Terzo asked softly, looking to the chair before he looked back towards the door they had come through. No matter what he seemed to do, all he could think about was how sad he was to not have his companion. She’d held his hand through everything thus far and now, when he felt like he’d need her the most, she was nowhere to be found. Not even the smell of her in the wind as if she’d already come and gone. It confused him and left him wondering if something terrible had happened to. Given her honest nature and her ability to cut the shit, he knew she had no reason to play coy…

“The Devil doesn’t like to keep people waiting,” the man said in his purest customer service voice before he bowed his head and stepped out of the room.

Shortly after that door closed another opened before where Terzo had come to take a seat. The sight of it made his heart race unlike anything that he’d ever felt before. There was something so enticing about discovering that your savior was real but there was something even more delightful in getting to meet them yourself. His hands started to shake as if he were nothing more than an eager fan boy waiting for an autograph outside a crowded concert hall. In that moment he knew there was nothing that Solana could have possible done to prepare him for this.

Terzo’s heart was in his throat, that same opening tightening as he watched the door open all the way… but the sight that awaited him seemed to pull every bit of breath he had left from his lungs.

As much as he wanted to speak, to say anything… all he could do was shake. His mouth dropped open and a stiff index finger rose up in order to challenge the perceptions of his reality… but all he could do was faint.

Teroz’s world went black, the last thing he remember seeing were the finely pressed lines of a blood red pantsuit.

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roseandreason · 2 years

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Its the big one….Birth (part 1)

Im going to do this as a two parter, mainly because I don’t want to miss anything out but also because I don’t get a huge amount of time to write things like this anymore! Ill try not to keep you waiting too long for part two!

6 weeks ago I had a baby…..and everyone wants to know, how was the birth, so here I am….to tell all, buckle in, grab a coffee and a snack, I highly recommend jelly babies or a squares bar, these turned out to be my labour snacks of choice.

My main reason for writing this blog post is one, because I hope it helps others, the same as all my posts but two because I had a truly wonderful birth experience…I hear you gasp….a positive birth story?! Yes it was wonderful and I know these are rarely heard amongst the horror stories out there that can be really scary to hear!

So here we go, but where to start?!

I guess we will start right at the beginning (no not conception, we are all adults here and know where babies come from) my maternity leave, I went on maternity leave when I was roughly 36 weeks pregnant, which for a lot of people sounds early, but it was really important to me to really have time to relax at home and prepare for our baby girl to arrive both mentally and physically, I don’t think there was any better way to do that than being at home, mainly cross-stitching and binge watching multiple series! I suffered with severe pelvic pain and hyperemesis (sickness and nausea) in my pregnancy amongst other symptoms including feet that looked more like water balloons, it was not the glowing pregnancy so often advertised (and yet I absolutely loved it) so those few weeks were amazing to be at home in my own space and if you can I fully recommend anyone planning maternity to do the same, I think too many people work right the way up to their due date at work and work themselves too hard! You’re about to have a huge shift in your life, those weeks to myself were golden and I’m so glad I took that time to myself and Titch when he had days off.

In that time I also practiced all the tools in my hypnobirthing course me and Titch did, it was the best money I have ever spent and the tools I learnt 100% contributed to why I had such an amazing birth experience, more on that later!

Fast forward to my due date, I had tried to not put too much focus on my due date or tell many people when it was. Babies in general but specifically 1st babies very rarely arrive on their due date, I think only around 4%! (I was actually born on my due date, but if you know me thats the most me thing to do, always on time as expected!)

70% of first babies are born between 40 and 42 weeks so I knew there was a high chance I would go ‘overdue’

I won’t pretend however that towards my due date and after I didn’t start to feel impatient. I was lucky enough to share my pregnancy journey with one of my best friends, she had her baby boy at 39 weeks, then all our friends on our antinaetal class also went on to have their babies, so it did feel like everyone was waiting for our little lady to arrive, and we were so desperate to meet her!

At 41 weeks +1 (Monday) I went to the midwife for them to attempt a ‘sweep’. This is something I initially wasnt going to have as they are not proven to help start labour but I later changed my mind hoping that I might at least know where my body was at in the process. Long story short the midwife said that on their scoring system I was the lowest possible score (ouch!) my body and cervix were completely uninterested in gong into labour and an induction was most likely how our birth was going to go. I went home and cried, I was so desperate for my body start a spontaneous labour and I really didn’t want to be induced, so I had a good cry (full on disney princess style sprawled on the bed), I was so dissapointed!

The following day (Tuesday) I felt completely different (when does a good cry not make you feel better!) I had accepted that my body just wasn’t ready, and that was ok, as long as our baby girl arrived safely, I called the hospital and accepted an induction and it was booked for the Friday. I knew within a few more days, we would have our family.

We had to take our car in for a recall Job that day, and due to it being possible for me to go into labour at any point they gave us a courtesy car until ours was ready, we transferred the baby car seat, my hospital notes and birth plan into this car…(this is an important detail, you’ll find out later why) me and Titch both laughed to the receptionist saying well what are the chances of it happening today….unknown to us both…my body and Olive had very different plans

That evening me and Titch were having our dinner in the garden and I said to him ‘I just don’t feel right’ I had a little back pain and some cramp like feelings but due to being told what I had the day before I did not even think for a second these could be labour symptoms, so I went upstairs and said I was going to have a nice long bath and an early night…again my body had a very different evening planned for us both.

At just before half past 8 I got out of the bath with freshly washed hair and put on fresh pjs (no better feeling) I took a photo of me and bump (shown below and the last photo I have of my bump) went downstairs and boom, at the bottom of our stairs my waters went, I looked up at Titch who was following me down the stairs and said ‘either I just wet myself or my waters have just gone……Nope it won’t stop….its my waters’

I was so excited and I had always wanted my movie moment of my waters breaking but its not as common as people think, so I was buzzing! Let me tell you what they don’t in movies…it does not stop, there was so much water I couldnt beleive it!! It was such a surreal moment and I remember me and Titch just staring at each other for brief second and then both of us absolutely beaming and smiling and hugging each other so tight, it was happening, our baby girl was on her way.

When your waters break you need to call the hospital to let them know as they like to make sure you have given birth within 24hrs of them breaking to prevent infection, so I asked Titch to grab the hospital notes with the wards number on…..remember earlier I said about putting our hospital notes in the courtesy car, yeah we forgot to take them back, they were locked in a car on a forecourt in Wymondham….ooops! It would have been too easy to panic but instead we just laughed and Titch said well we can’t have been the first and we won’t be the last! We spoke to an incredible Midwife on the phone who told me to try and get some rest before my contractions started (lol) and to keep them updated on my progress.

My contractions or surges as we called them as part of our Hypnobirthing course, started at 9pm so only half an hour after my waters broke and there you have it, the start of our labour story, and I fully believe that it happened that day because I was the most relaxed I had been, I had accepted she wasn’t coming until the Friday and that was ok, I had also spent the entire day bouncing on my pregnancy ball, must have done something! So when people ask ‘how do I start labour, what did you do’ I truly believe there is nothing you can do, your body will do what it wants when it wants and when it feels ready!

Baby Olive…..she was on her way XXX

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paulrowland8 · 2 years

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Specifically Just How to Jumble Box Train Your Kitty In 3 Steps

kissing cat mugs The key to can educating your kitty cat is very straightforward! All you need to do is begin with a mom cat that has already been enlightened to use a container. Wait 8 to twelve weeks, and also Mom Feline will certainly have actually done all the help you. Some Mother Felines will absolutely likewise show felines besides her actual own what to do. Congratulations, you presently have a perfectly housebroken kitten! It was that straightforward. While this is just one of the best techniques to educate your kitty, it's unquestionably not constantly possible. Scenarios are seldom optimal. Mommy Pet dog feline may be feral and not recognize specifically how to use a can herself. She maybe couldn't look after her kitty feline. Whether she didn't have much maternal reaction, insufficient milk for the whole clutter, or illness or death, it commonly is up to caring human beings to moms and dad a kitty. It will certainly spend some time as well as lots of determination (as well as also possibly some effort). Yes, certainly, you can can train your feline cat! Activity # 1: "The Intro" You can begin the training when the kitten is four weeks old when she's prepared to discover the globe past Mommy Pet pet cat's nest. She's both solid enough to stroll and likewise dig on her actual own as well as is anxious to learn. A feline, any kind of kind extra vibrant than this, requires to be advertised to eliminate. At this moment, you can reveal to them what the can is. Place package someplace silent, calm, and also practical. Use a can with sides minimized enough for a kitty to get over by herself. She won't require anything considerable. Use clutter with uniformity of garden dust or coast sand in addition to no scent. See right here for some options. Not only is it a great deal a lot more pleasurable to delicate paw pads, but it additionally will certainly not harm her if she picks to take in some. You do not require to fill package. An inch or two thick has to do it. Area Pet cat in a bundle every now and then, specifically after she eats or gets up. If she damages or paws at the sand, allow her. If she does not, motivate her to do so by damaging the sand with a finger or very carefully taking her foot and scratching the sand. She'll quickly understand. She may also believe it's a computer game. Be really calm and also quiet concerning it to make sure that Cat recognizes this is recommended to be loosening up. Rome wasn't built in a day. You could need to do this several times over a couple of weeks. This brings us to can train your kitten. Action # 2: Practice Perseverance If Feline removes outside the trash box, rapidly, nevertheless, gradually put her in the canister. Do not shout or mistreat her. Cat requires to recognize that package is an area to do her company, not a sort of charge. Dirtied areas can be cleaned up with an enzyme-based cleaner. Think about putting the waste in the box to help the cat identify what she's indicated to do below. This is an all-natural act that even felines favor individual privacy for. Leave Feline to figure it out for herself. When she does what she's implied to do in the canister, tell her she's a wonderful girl as well as incentive her. Bear in mind to clean the tray out continually. Not simply will you dislike the have an odor, nevertheless felines do not, such as utilizing unclean canister. Scoop it out when daily, as well as alter the trash as required. Some felines prefer the kind of box with a cover. Some really feel claustrophobic pertaining to these points can additionally be dangerous. Use warm water as well as likewise cleaning agent. Do unclean the can if you are expectant. Not only could you do fewer jobs to trouble with, but caring for feline's fecal matter lugs a threat of toxoplasmosis. Obtain another person to do this. Activity # 3: Troubleshooting Ask on your own, "Why does not Feline plan to take advantage of the canister?" As claimed formerly, some cats pick covers, in addition to some dislike them. Modification appropriately. Guarantee the sides aren't costly. Kitties do not kick sand as demanding as grown-up felines, so it's even more critical that cats can enter than whether sand can remain in now. If you have a multi-storied home, contend the really the very least one box on each floor. (Much more, it can not harm.) Make sure the area is tidy, peaceful, and likewise does not scent uncommon. Bear in mind that something a human such as the scent of might scents terrible to a cat. If Feline all of a sudden stops making use of the can, an urinary infection might be the perpetrator. It could be time to take Feline to the veterinarian. If the feline stubbornly declines the can, you may need to limit her to a small location for a while with just sufficient room for her bed, food, water, as well as can. With less alternatives supplied, Cat will recognize specific locations for eating, resting, as well as removing. If all else fails, think about utilizing an attractant spray to attract your kitty to the trash box. Your vet or family pet dog treatment expert might have the capability to recommend something. Most of all: Remember Your Obligation! No wordplay right here meant. Your job as a pet moms and dad is to ascertain your feline recognizes standard excellent commode practices that will make it a lot easier for her to get on in individuals' houses and also possibly numerous other felines. This could need placing her in the plan over and over up until she discovers what it's for. Show Feline kindness as well as also persistence. Compliment her when she does what you want. When the cat learns her lesson, be prepared to clean up. Position things to see to it that your kitty is extra most likely to use her can. Most importantly, notice your feline pet cat. A little presumption can go a prolonged ways right into assisting your feline turn into a completely expanded feline.

#kissing cat mugs #couple cat mugs

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justoneacatperson · 3 years

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Two babies broccoli

Alpha! GN! Reader x Pregnant! Omega! Midoriya Izuku (Headcanon)

This is reupload from my old blog!

I would say that his pregnancy was accidental, not planned. You are two heroes who are trying to climb the charts, and your mate is struggling to be the number 1 hero, there are no children in your plans.

But apparently a month ago, when you both entered your cycles at the same time, blurred by lust and instincts, you forgot protection. So now the green-haired omega walks back and forth in the bathroom, muttering hundreds of questions under his breath as he waits for the time for the pregnancy tests to over.

His phone rang, announcing that the time had over. He stopped the alarm, looked in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Now is the time, he thought. He took one of the three tests, looking at how many traits had. Two large clear red lines appeared. Midoriya couldn’t believe it, looked at the other tests, seeing the same results. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to erupt like waterfalls.

Now what? He has to tell you. You’ve both commented that you want children at some point in your life, but not is the time. Deku is already in the top 10 best heroes, and you are in 17th place. It took a lot of time and effort for both of you to get to where you are now. Are you ready for that? You put a lot of time and work into reaching this position. Will you be happy or angry? He never saw you angry at him, you were the most wonderful mate in the world in many ways, but now the situation is very different from all you have been in.

It was late when you came home from a patrol and imprisoned several villains while Izuku had been home for several days due to illness.

-“Izu?” you called, taking off your shoes in the hallway. You immediately heard footsteps on the floor coming towards you. You looked up smiled when you saw your omega. -“How are you?” you asked, giving him a hug.

-“I should ask you this question.” he replied, running his finger over the cut on your shoulder.

-“A villain managed to hurt me, but it’s nothing serious, just a scratch.” you answered quickly so as not to bother your mate. -“So you?”

-“Well… I have something to tell you.” he replied, arousing your curiosity. You released him from your embrace, placing your hands on his shoulders.

-“Whatever it is, I’m listening.”

Midoriya tried to say something, but no sound came out of his mouth, so he took the test out of his pocket, showing it to your eyes. It took you a second to realize what he showed you, and immediately your eyes widened.

-”Omega, you…”

-“Yes, I’m pregnant.” he did not know what to expect before you wrapped your arms around him, lifting him off the ground and turning him a few times in a circle. -“(Y/n) !?” exclaimed Izuku, stopping you. You smiled, kissing his nose.

-“I’m very happy, Izu.” you said, touching your forehead with his. The omega chirped merrily, and tears streamed from his eyes. -“It would be amazing to have puppies together.”

First Trimester:

Midoriya wanted to keep working while he could. He takes only tasks related to patrolling and paperwork, and starting to show his pregnancy, he will go on leave maternity and will only do paperwork.

You have become very protective of your omega. You will always scent him from head to toe to mark it as your own.

You had to tell your mate’s mother. Inko was in complete ecstasy, crying and hugging her son in a bear hug, shouting how proud she was of you two and that she couldn’t wait to become a grandmother.

He had a slight morning sickness that he only had in the morning and late at night.

His sense of smell and hunger sharpened. From morning to night he eats his favorite food - katsudon, but of course you can`t leave your pregnant mate to eat only that. Midoriya has no food he hates or can’t eat, but sometimes there are many weird combinations of foods he likes to eat.

On your appointment to a doctor, you both learned that you were expecting twins. You were both in shock and joy at the same time. You didn’t expect to have more than one puppy, so you need to rearrange your plans a bit. Because he had twins, he started showing up early, and your protective alpha instinct didn’t want to put him on missions anymore, so he was left to do only paperwork.

Second Trimester:

In fact, Deku is a very nesting omega. The nest has always been the most comfortable and safe place for omega, their confidential place. The green-haired omega needed his nest more during his years of growth, due to the traumatic news that he was quirkless, the constant harassment by Katsuki had made him spend more time in his nest, seeking solace. He now has a new occupation to remodel his nest for hours until he thinks it’s okay. He was so focused that you asked if he needed anything, if you could get more things for his nest.

He had made several nests in your house. The main nest was in your bedroom, next to your bed - big, fluffy, soft, made mainly of All Might merch, of course. There are two smaller ones in the living room and in the nursery where your puppies will be.

Izuku had pain in his ankles and back from the weight of the twins. You will often smear him with oils, giving him a light massage. He always tried to tell you that he was fine and didn’t need to, but you’ve seen enough of him since his school years to be with Recovery Girl or in the hospital often, because he doesn’t take care of himself and makes life-threatening decisions, you don`t want him to get worse, you have no rejection, and your omega has no choice but to agree.

Stretch marks appeared on his abdomen and thighs, which you bless! You will not allow insecurity to crawl up to Deku, you will always show that you love him and he attracts you, no matter how he looks like.

You started making the children`s room. Your close friends like Uraraka, Iida, Shoto, Tsu, even Bakugou helped you a lot with painting the walls, assembling the furniture. (Katsuki even made very spicy ramen for the green-haired omega, as you told him that he’s been craving spicy lately).

You were above the moon when you felt the puppies kicking under your palms.

At your next checkup, you found out that your twins are girls.

Third Trimester:

In the last months of his pregnancy, Izuku did not want you to leave him alone home. His inner omega needed you more than usual and will whine when he doesn’t get enough attention or closeness from you.

Spend most of his time lying in his nest and sleeping, to your happiness and surprise. It is rare to see Izuku Midoriya do nothing You like to lie next to him and brush up his curly hair with your fingers.

Babies became very active in his womb. They move and kick. You were both in cloud nine when they began to move in his belly, and you will both enjoy those moments. But in recent months, the puppies are too strong and kick their mother in the kidneys and ribs, which does not affect him well. It is difficult to calm them, your omega manages to sleep no more than 3 to 4 hours a night, because at night they are very active. This is slightly offset by his constant bed rest.

Birth:

7 hours of labour - sweat, tears, fatigue, but they were worth it when your little ones came into the world. You held one of your daughters while Midoriya held the other. They both looked the same - curly (h/c) hair, emerald green eyes, freckles all over their faces, and their skin something between yours and his color.

-“They’re beautiful.” you said, sitting on the hospital bed next to your omega. He let out a little tired purr, leaning against your chest.

-“That’s right.” you planted a kiss on his head.

#bnha omegaverse #mha omegaverse #bnha mpreg #mha mpreg #omega izuku midoriya #omega midoriya izuku #omega deku #izuku midoriya x fem!reader #deku x fem!reader #deku x male reader

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talesofstyles · 3 years

Text

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain.

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder.

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment.

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car.

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.”

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later.

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald.

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.”

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later.

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks.

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off.

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.”

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors.

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve.

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING.

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head.

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her.

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals.

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom.

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife.

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process.

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop.

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache.

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink.

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers.

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest.

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room.

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward.

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket.

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages.

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side.

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door.

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.”

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going.

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him.

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear.

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat.

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes.

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt.

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige.

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down.

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.”

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching.

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fics #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #dad!harry #husband!harry #doctor!harry #surgeon!harry

1K notes · View notes

jiminrings · 3 years

Note

what happened to mc after that?? JUNGKOOK I WILL WHOOP YO FUCKING ASS

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

the aftermath of stem koo breaking senior!y/n's heart

"do you need anything from us?"

yoongi asks you for the fifth time in the twenty minutes you've been home, heart breaking from the inside out when you haven't moved a single inch

he is begging that the thing you need from him and jin is to go beat j*ngkook up

HE CAN'T EVEN SAY HIS NAME WITHOUT BEING ANGRY AT HIM!!!!!!!

anything. anything to atleast make you sleep in peace tonight.

or them honestly,, either way

your body's facing the backrest of the couch and maybe that's for the better, because that way, seokjin won't feel the need to cry looking at the coldest person he's known to be openly vulnerable

you're still wearing your jersey!!! your stained dirty jersey that you've been in for the past three hours and the reason that it's still wet was that you've been using it to wipe your tears all the way to the dorm

"no. i'll be alright."

you mumble for the fifth time out of the five times you've been asked, and yoongi just has to grapple at his fist because he knows that being frustrated wouldn't help

you are the fURTHEST thing from okay

to be honest, it was only a miracle that you told the two of them what happened in the first place

it was in between sobs that you asked them why they were friends with you and they couldn't be anymore dumbfounded

it was in between violent tears that you mentioned hyeji that seokjin looked for a box of tissues because you've been intentionally rubbing your eyes raw

it was in between heaving that you said that no one wants to go the extra mile for me that yoongi started holding your cheeks and trying to get you to breathe with him in his panic too

it was in between hiccups that you uttered that no one wants to walk me home and that's when both of yoongi's and seokjin's throats started tightening, the dots hazy yet aligning nonetheless

it was in silence when you told that jungkook said that no one likes me, and that's when out of the three of you in the room – you're the one who's the calmest.

"okay. i'll bring you a blanket."

yoongi leaves it at that, standing from his spot on the floor to walk over to the kitchen where the blankets cLEARLY aren't there

no one really prepared yoongs for this

no one really is

there isn't a manual on how to act when the dearest friend that you have is crying their guts out for the first time

he can't explain his close bond with you and he's always seen you as his platonic girlfriend!!! his platonic girlfriend who has a bond with him that's closer than a sister's, more understanding than a mother's, and the utter admiration more than a friend's

you r literally yoongi's (platonic) soulmate and he would die on that hill

he would rather subject himself to torture via having to stay in a freshman's dorm equipped with the de facto led strip lights everyday!!! every single day, than to see you like this :(((

"what do you have on the bitch?" yoongi doesn't spare his words when he sits on the kitchen stool next to jin's figure

the dude is sTANDING and that means business

jin doesn't feel a single ounce of regret fetching his work laptop and scrolling through the files and tabs he has on every single student on campus, eyes only looking for one lee hyeji that's contributed to your anguish rn

jungkook is atleast 3/4 in this equation and seokjin will get to him of course

no one makes his emotional support best friend cry and nOT pay the consequences for it!!!!

in another life, vincenzo cassano's character is based on seokjin and the events in his life that definitely happened >:(

"she's daddy's money. can't fucking believe that sHE'S representing the school," he sighs in genuine annoyance, but not loud enough to pique your attention as he turns the screen so yoongi could clearly see her headshots, "must be a diversity hire. every university needs a fucking bimbo, apparently."

you see,,, yoongi would've SNORTED at that but now is not the time!!! he is still planning discreet retribution to avenge you!!!!

jin lets yoongi look at hyeji's entire file, wanting to get even the smallest bits even if the information he's taking in is against his will

he'll immediately delete whatever he learns about her right after it's served its purpose

"just messaged the faculty groupchat," seokjin himself didn't imagine the words coming out from his lips determinedly, but he knows that he's willing to do anything for the sake of this, "been crushing on jeon ever since the start of last semester. philosophy professor thinks it's because he once saw jungkook lending her a pen when they were in the topic of soulmates."

jesus christ

now THAT'S just annoying ://

this

whatever this is

seokjin and yoongi don't know what they're digging all this information for

they don't know what this unspoken plan is for, or if they even have a plan in the first place

if jin were to tell the faculty gc about this???

absolute mayhem

but he knows for a fact that they'd hate star student jungkook easily within a tap of a finger

the philosophy prof would lose all sense of rationality and reasoning and INSTANTLY point to jungkook as an asshole!!! no questions asked!!!! no elaborations!!!!

"i could get jeon eliminated from all the academic listings he's in."

jin pipes in at the silence that he and yoongi share, both listless in this situation that they never expected to encounter with you

"i could always spread a rumor and make him unlikeable."

yoongi toys with the rings that he wears, a heavy exhale tearing away from him

they could think of a thousand other ways to get back at jungkook!!! they literally can

seokjin knows a contract guy who leaves shredded paper with his contract's initials written on red ink (for a base fee of three dollars, he can switch up the ink for you!!!) right next to their side on the bed

yoongi knows a guy whose modus operandi is to discreetly follow people, have subliminals playing in the background (for an extra fee of ten dollars, he'll use wireless bass-boosted speakers), and continue doing so until the desired message is achieved!!!!

none of the people they have connections to could employ the same amount of pain he's caused on you

there's literally nothing that could hit home with jungkook besides you.

but there's no way to do that and even in your state of anger and sadness tHEN utter vulnerability, you can't even really think of hurting jungkook in the way he did

because you know and yoongi knows and seokjin knows and everyone knows that you aren't the type to wish ill

you admit that sometimes you're unavailable but you don't want that to be an asshole-reason to make everyone else around you suffer in the same way you do

the people around you aren't your shock absorbers!!!! that's why you hang out a teddy bear on your doorknob when you're mad so that neither yoongi or jin would have the possibility to be caught in your rage

that's why you call for a break when your soccer team is out of their game and make everyone drink their electrolytes before they speak to you!!!!

that's why you have the old heart of your even older build-a-bear stuffie in your pocket, one of the only reminders that your childhood even happened, one that you'd squeeze between your fingers in any remotely anxious instances that you find yourself in

jungkook's words hit home and it put you into a spiral if you even had one in the first place

your parents divorced when you were young and it's just that,,, no one from the two of them wanted you because you were the reminder of the other parent

you're a place marker for when a commitment started and ended and god did it make you grow up quickly

your aunt raised you!!!! she's an angel and she's the maternal figure in your life that you'd always be grateful for

you love her all the same and as much as you didn't wanna relate yourself to your parents in the same way that they don't, the feelings of being unliked hit you ever so often

lol it's quite a dashing mindset you have but you can't see any other interpretation you should employ

you leave before they could leave you.

it's not really as dramatic as it sounds

BUT IT COULD BE

there's always obligatory groupchats for projects and you're the first one to leave it instead of awkwardly waiting out for the conversation to dwindle and then leave one by one

when you and yoongi argue, you leave before he attempts to get the last word in

when jin is about to ask if you want to split the bill, you're already putting more than half of your share on the table

it's a nagging feeling of not wanting be unwanted in every situation you're in, but you aren't all that sure of wHAT you'd do to be liked

the only thing you could think of are lunchboxes, and even that gets taken away from you.

does no one really like you??

you're shifting in your position before you know it and the lone sound makes jin and yoongs come to your side immediately, looking at you in concern

you're looking up and you could just fEEL your eyes are puffy and even the light's hurting them

"i need to sleep."

"o-oh! m'kay, sure. i'll carry you to bed, let's go," seokjin wastes no time in responding, about to hook his arms underneath you when you repeat yourself again

you only chuckle but it's the driest and most painful they've ever heard, wincing when they can hear how breathless it was

"no. i mean i need to sleep."

jin blinks once

yoongi blinks twice

right

they get it now

you don't want to sleep, and you really can't, but you need it

"i'll get it!!" jin volunteers to grab what you need, leaving yoongi with you

oh god you could fEEL that he's going to cry

what a big baby ://

seokjin comes bearing the joint :D

he's about to light it for you because he knows that three specific short hits would lull you to slumber then knock you out cold for like a day lmao

he minored in chemistry actually but he cAN'T explain shit on why that's your body's reaction

you're all-good for literally anything besides three short hits lmao

yoongi was about to scold jin because he lights it and tHEN he's the one who takes the first drag, but there's an assuring wave of his hand

how romantic

jin just blew you a heart

they can't get anything from you besides the slight crinkling from your eyes but they don't mind at all — your eyes are atleast one degree less sad

you take your turn and even pass it to yoongi but he rEFUSES,,,,, not the least bit dejected that he decided not to because he wants to watch over you instead and not see every inanimate object with cartoon eyes on them while watching over you

"bake her a cookie if in case she suddenly gets hungry in the middle of her sleep. sneak a carrot in it or something," jin reminds yoongi and he's sERIOUS about the recipe, holding you in tow as he makes the way to your room

yoongi's about to break out the bowls, freezing in his steps when he hears the doorbell frantically ring

oh god

the ONE time that they didn't plug the door with a wet towel and now it's probably the hall manager outside about to do an inspection

that is not..... the hall monitor

that is a fucking asshole

jungkook's been pacing on his heels, his knocking loud enough to wake up the entire hallway at this point

he's SWEATING and he's not even wearing his hoodie

the door finally opens and the words start tumbling out of his mouth

"good evening. i-i wanna explain myself and-..."

that is not,,,,, you

it's his senior that he's disrespected probably too many times

yoongi leans to the door, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face that the junior's never seen before

"you ever had a sandwich before, jungkook?"

"w-what?"

the younger boy stammers, his eyes following yoongi's actions of looking behind him out of worry and then going outside to join him by closing the door softly without noise

yoongi only snorts, not even sure if he's up for conversation

"hyeji's never packed you a sandwich before?"

jungkook pales at the mention, mouth drying when he sees yoongi bring up the soft smile that doesn't comfort him at all

"the one that's all knuckle?"

#WHAT DO WE THINK BESTIES :D WHAT'S HAPPENING NEXT #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabbles #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine

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disasterlesbiansunite · 3 years

Text

Just Two Things: A Young Royals Fix-It Fic

His mama had stood over him as she began talking. Wilhelm could hardly focus; the vision of the video (his video, his and Simon’s video, the video of Simon) burned into his brain on a constant loop. She hadn't asked him if he was alright, not yet, but he had stopped expecting her to early on in life. Duty first, he guessed, as usual. She pulled away and off the bed, rattled off the words about the interview he’ll do to protect the royal family et cetera, et cetera.

“I don’t want you to see Simon for the time being,” she said, and he glanced up, suddenly feeling like his world is fell away underneath him. He wished Erik were here, that Erik was still alive. If he were, then maybe this would all go away. He doubted any of it could now.

August brought him dinner that night when he’s too exhausted to even leave his bed. He said that Erik would want Wille to be himself - but how is August so sure of what Erik would want him to do to fix this, to just get this whole shitshow over with, when the only person who knows that is six feet under.

“Follow your heart, really.” August said. “Follow your heart.”

If anything his heart only thought of two things at the moment. One is the crumpled up rage he feels that’s been broiling under his skin since he saw the video; the screaming, panicked wild thing that wants to shout at the world and watch it shouts back until no part of him remains, no crown prince, nothing.

The other part of his brain thought of Simon. Holding him, soft and warm until his skin, kissing his neck and inhaling as much of him as possible. Kissing him, kissing Simon, an exhilarating feeling he can’t describe, he won’t ever be able to describe. Almost all of the girls he had kissed had kissed gently and slowly, like they were afraid he would disappear right next to them. It always felt like he was being kissed by air, a ghostly possession that was over in a second and just as uncomfortable.

He would have thought that Simon would kiss like that, he had thought Simon would kiss like that, Simon had kissed like that, before they really truly got to know one another. Now, Simon kissed hard and rough, like he knew Wilhelm wouldn’t disappear but just as quick, aware he couldn’t have him by himself ever. Simon’s kiss had the edge of sandpaper, tough grit and fine smoothness rolled into one. Simon kissed for the sake of it, like there was so much he wanted to do to Wille, do with Wille, that he simply couldn’t function enough to do anything but kiss him. Wille fell asleep soon after that, dinner discarded. He wondered if the last time they would ever kiss would be the time that caused both of him to want to recoil from society and away from the world. A part of him hoped so.

The nail on his thumb was raw and bleeding.

As he walked through Hillerska, everyone stared at him in pity. He was used to the stares, used to the way his simple presence shut up people around until all they could do was give him a dumb look. It was pity that was new to him, but he tried not to focus on that as Malin rushed with him to his first class of the day. He knew the things they were saying, drove himself insane as he googled himself over and over again, watching Sweden’s trending page unravel until it felt like it was all over. He watched as Simon walked into their classroom, turning heads for once in his life. Once except for the amount of times he had his, of course. He mindlessly made small talk with his classmate, but all he could think of were two things.

After class he rushed into the locker room to talk to Simon. He looked sullen, his features that were generally framed in a light source of their own were moody and dark, an awkward, ill fitting portrait. He wanted to kiss it all away. Instead, kicked at Simon’s foot, hooking the two into a game of footsie.

“What the hell are we going to do?” Simon asked, wrapping his hands around Wilhelm’s, as if he had any of the answers. Breaking news, he didn’t. All he could do was sit in silence and hold Simon, it felt like the only thing he could do. Unless…

“They’ve asked me to deny it was me in that video.” He could barely get the words out.

“Serious?”

Wille hummed, unable to interpret that reaction. “They want me to make a statement at the castle on Saturday.”

Simon turned, his head moving off of Wille's shoulder in a way that feels entirely unwelcome. Put that back please. Wille had realized that he could only really function anymore in Simon’s arms. As if he wasn’t touch starved enough, but Simon was hot and didn’t mind so it didn’t really matter. “But you’re not going to do it, right?”

“I don’t want to say anything.” Simon doesn’t get it, but Wilhelm doesn’t expect him too; too impossible to explain.

“But, Wille, everyone can see that it’s me in that video,” Wille groaned. He had forgotten that slightly important detail. Simon continued, “What am I supposed to do? But no matter what, they can’t dictate what you say,” Yes, they absolutely can, they’ve done it before.

We haven’t done anything wrong.” He had forgotten that too, spending so much time yesterday going over consequences and contingencies ranging from plan A to Z it made his head bled. But no one had actually told him that they hadn’t done anything wrong. Not even August, with his love is love attitude that came out of nowhere. Not even fucking him.

Mama had been waiting for him. Mama had met Simon. She never looked twice at Wilhelm, veiled disdain souring her mouth as she stared out the window.

“What? Why can’t I just have a relationship with him? And not say anything. Just live a normal life.” He knows why. He just wants to hear her say it.

“You’re the crown prince.” And there’s the world crashing back down onto him. “And that’s a privilege, not a punishment.” It’s both actually, but whatever, mama.

“Yes, but I didn’t ask for this!” Erik should be here. Erik would know what to do.

“Well, nobody has ever, ever asked for this,” his mama shot back. He feels like a little kid again, feels like biting his thumb raw. “You’re the only one who can take over the throne after Erik. Don’t you understand that?” He wished she would just look at him.

“You’re so young. When you’re young love feels like the most important thing in the world. When I was your age, I too had an unfortunate romance.” He wants to laugh or cry or release that panicked, clawed, anxious feeling that’s always been trapped underneath his chest, beating his heart faster and faster and faster. Unfortunate romance, she said, like Simon isn’t the best thing to happen to him, like Simon wasn’t the only one holding him together, like Simon wasn’t the only real thing in his world.

He snapped back into the conversation.“Is it worth it,” she continued. “If you feel that the attention you’ve been getting so far is unacceptable, it’s nothing compared to what you will endure for the rest of your life. We have a chance to cover this up. I urge you to take this chance. You may not get another.”

With Simon on one shoulder, and his mama and the world on the other, it turns out he was going to make the statement after all. Fucking great.

He felt like throwing up, but, to be fair, when hasn’t he.

“Are you ready?” His mama asked, like he could ever be ready to announce to the world, no that definitely was not me in that tape and that boy is definitely not the love of my life, thank you very much.

He dragged his feet, as he went into the room where Rosenqvists sits. Like Mama said, they only have one chance to not fuck this up.

Rosenqvist smiles at Wilhelm, her eyes hawkish. He musters as much of a smile as he can, playing with the buttons on his suit as the photographer directs the two around.

“It’s good to see you again, your highness.”

His eyes darted around the room. He could hear his mama and papa argue in the room they were in

“You too.”

The interview began then, menial questions about his existence that made him want to bite at his thumb. He resisted, knew that if Rosenqvist saw how his anxiety was surging through him like a freight train and mentioned it in her interview, his mama would be more angry then she already was. The questions are simple really, he barely thought about the answers and more about how Erik would have phrased them. Not like Erik would have been in this situation.

“So, Wilhelm, we both know why we’re here.” She smiled apologetically at him. Here we go. “As you are, no doubt, aware of by now there was a video from Hillerska that is going viral of what is rumored to be yourself and another male student,” she paused for a moment, uncomfortable with the what she’s about to say to a boy she’d been interviewing for most of his life, “being intimate. What do you have to say about these rumors, Crown Prince Wilhelm?” She’s less probing, then. He can tell his mom already prepped her on how exactly this interview needed to go. Fuck.

“That’s not-” his words got stuck in his throat.

“That’s not you in the video?” She filled, looking more and more saddened with each word, more maternal that he thinks he’s seen anyone in his entire life. He wanted to nod, wanted to do what his mama wanted for him, wanted to listen to what she feels is best for their country, because it is theirs now, isn’t it? Erik is dead and gone and never coming back no matter how much Wilhelm wishes he had been able to keep him alive. Wilhelm doesn’t exactly know much about what it takes to be king, not like Erik did, but he’s pretty sure a leaked tape is one thing a king is not supposed to have on his record. Wilhelm should want to deny the rumors, so why does it feel like every time he tries to open his mouth that it’s filled with cotton, that panicked wild thing grabbing hold of his brain and shaking it like his snowglobe. It’s begging him to choose the path of least resistance. And then there was Simon. Simon with his pretty soft voice and his even softer lips. Simon with his kind eyes and hands and just Simon, Simon, Simon. Simon, who has already been broken by the video and if Wilhelm denies their relationship then he’ll only break more. The only things he can think about. Just two things. Two things he can’t seem to choose between.

He took a deep breath. Erik would have wanted him to follow his heart, would have said that that would be how he becomes a great king. By being kind and good, and wholly himself.

He chose.

Simon’s mama shouts for a rematch as he laughed into his snack.

Ayub tensed next to him, “Oh, shit.”

“What’s up?” Simon asked, confused. Did his dad ask him to go home or something?

Instead, Ayub read from his phone: an online copy of this week’s Göteborgs-Posten screenshotted and reposted to Twitter. “The Crown Prince addresses rumors of Viral Video.”

“What?” He could have sworn Willie had said he wouldn’t do the interview. His mom and Sara exchange glances.

Ayub read on, “While the Royal Court denies rumors that the Crown Prince appears in the video that has gone viral this past week, his royal highness Prince Wilhelm goes more in depth on his time at Hillerska and the events surrounding the video. He says, ‘I started at Hillerska to focus on my studies and have kept to that.’ At this moment, the prince pauses and grows quiet.

‘That’s not the entire truth. The truth is that that is me in the video. I do not know who took it or why but the facts remain the same. There are many people who would want me to not address the rumors surrounding me at this time, and some even would want me to outright deny them, but I disagree. If I am to be king, and no matter what happens from this I will be king, I want to be the kind of king the people can be proud of, the kind of king my brother would have been, and the kind of king that if he saw me he’d be proud of. And that starts by being genuine and being myself to the citizens of Sweden and to the world.’ ‘Everyone should be allowed to live as gay or straight or whatever they want,’ says the Crown Prince. ‘And I suppose the former includes me, but I would still like this time to decide further who I am and what kind of king I will be.’”

Simon is stunned. Of all things, he didn’t think of this as even an option. He fishes his phone out of his pocket.

To Wille: just read the interview, what. the. fuck.

From Wille: Is that a good “what. the. fuck!!!” or a “bad what. the. fuck?!?”

To Wille: you’re so brave, wille, thank you

To Wille: also according to ayub youre trending as “gay king wilhelm” on twitter rn

From Wille: Fuck yeah, bow down to your king. Meet me before school starts tomorrow, courtyard?

To Wille: see you then, gay king willie

As Simon approached the school - having already been stopped by four journalists, three photographers, two nosy neighbors and one blogger - he could see as Wille nervously paced at the edge of the courtyard, his hand rubbed deep into his chest, shirt creasing around it. Simon couldn't even begin to imagine what had happened in the palace after Wille’s interview. From what he saw the queen didn’t really strike him as the accepting type, but that was one of those things he’d let Wille discuss on his own time. He snuck up behind Wille instead, held his arms and kissed his neck.

“Hello, my prince,” he said and twirled Wille around and into his arms. Wille let out a little sigh of relief and if he could have held Willie there for forever he would. Wille smiles at him and kisses him on the cheek.

“Can we just go one day Simon without having your weird relationship issues making a scene,” Sara huffed past and quickened her pace to the school. Simon hadn’t noticed the stares, it felt like everyone in the courtyard had been watching them from Felice to August to other boarders Simon couldn’t name, but that had definitely called him names. Simon can’t bring himself to care anymore.

“I’m so proud of you, Wille.” Wilhelm let out a little noise, the only amount of negative emotion that being schooled on refinement since before he could talk would allow. He grabbed at Simon’s coat and drew him in for a hug.

“I love you,” Wille said and suddenly Simon’s whole world had shrunk down to three words.

Wille quickly ended the hug and walked towards the school, his bodyguards following quick after. Simon speed walked up to him and grabbed his hand, “I love you too.” Wille broke out into that tiny golden smile Simon loved to tease out and grabbed Simon’s hand.

The stares followed but Simon didn’t care. “Just two things left,” he said, “Get through this last day before break and then find whoever took that video.”

“And then?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,”

Wille hummed and played with Simon’s as they settled at the doorway of their first class of the day, “You might want to work on your plans.”

“No, my plan only needs those two things.” Simon messied with Wilhelm’s hair and strolled into the classroom.

Wille followed after one hand fixing his hair, the other clutching at Simon’s hand, muttering, “Just two things?”

Just two things.

#if this is bad im sorry #young royals netflix #young royals #wilhelm x simon #fic writing #yes they are my comfort characters #after like two days #character study #myownfics

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