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#every day my roommates wake up and they choose VIOLENCE
titanicfreija · 9 months
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"You're still being weird."
Sunny didn't cuss. "You've been different, too."
Pacing Nessus and clearing the Vex made for a nice pasttime without guilt or too much risk, Freija could remember being easily overwhelmed by now what felt like a simple flower picking trip. "I'll go back to being stupid and getting blown apart every ten minutes, but I'm usually good about trying for a couple of days. Make that hiccup noise at me when you wake me up, I'll keep it up."
Sunny didn't answer. She could relate to Freija in bad ways-- the complicated emotions annoyed her and her struggle with them frustrated her. She could hardly talk without blowing up.
"So, refocus on helping me didn't help. Even with me trying to survive for real." Freija peered through the forest of Nessus and picked off a few Harpies before continuing. "You, what. Don't like... Me. Being brought into this."
"That's part of it," Sunny fumed. She didn't want to talk about it anymore, she wanted to forget.
~
Except she couldn't because Freija kept dying and screaming and bleeding and for some reason, after years of thinking nothing of it, she couldn't stand it.
"Even though I not only don't mind, but I actively enjoy better than half the time and would choose to do under virtually any other circumstances?"
"I feel like I made you that way," she tried to explain again.
Freija grunted and peeked down her sights again. "You didn't make me a Titan," she pointed out. "I'm that all over the place. So even if you did teach me that the world was violent and I had to be violent, I still chose the kind of violence."
Sunny felt her eye flicker as she held back the laugh. "Did you choose to be a Titan? I assumed it was brains-based."
"I figure it's personality based," she said with a shrug. "You're right, I was... Ha. Reborn this way. How much of my first personality did you learn about? Did she punch her way out of everything?"
Sunny couldn't find any decent resources, except for a single gateman who remembered her family well, and referred to Sarah as a sharp shot and a sharper wit, neither of which sounded much like Freija at all. "I didn't learn enough."
"Sorry. But still. You said I was always a Titan. I don't see why I wouldn't have been a violent asshole from the first breath on my own. I can't believe you can look at us and think you taught me how to be me, are you crazy? You're a total asshole, but the way we're assholes is nothing alike."
Sunny giggled.
"I'm not a murder puppet."
"Yes, you are," argued Failsafe #2.
"No one asked you," Sunny grumped.
"It's a very helpful quality, considering the numerous invaders brought here by the Guardians," replied Failsafe #1.
Freija swatted the air as if Failsafe were a gnat flying around. "I'm not a puppet! Murderous, yes. Puppet? Only if you wanna start arguing with Three and my work with the Vanguard."
"Who is Three?" asked the Failsafes.
"My roommate who hates the vanguard."
"I like her already," said Failsafe #2.
"Anyway. I'm not a puppet. Do you really think you'd choose this for me? Cos you wanted to? Do you think you could stop me? What was I like in the very very beginning? My first day? I don't remember much, but one thing I do is that Taken Acolyte scaring the shit out of me, and my very first reaction was to shoot the thing in the head. And then being confused that there was no blood."
Sunny remembered that, too. That didn't help much, but at least it wasn't her fault. "You know, you still believe in that Traveler's undead army theory. You've just justified it."
Freija frowned with thought. "There's a chance you're right. But we won't know until we're done. 'cos if it's true, she won't need us, and we'll all drop dead. If not, we get to stay. It needs doing. The war needs fighting. And I can still stop. I hope I want to when it comes time. A lot of us do want to stop. Some of us already have. It's not guardians, it's not the Light, and it's not you. Maybe I'll grow out of it. Most seem to. "
Sunny wished that made it better.
"I can try to stop--"
Sunny 'jumped', shooting up and down aggressively. "Leave it alone! You can't make this better!"
The guardian flinched away, and Sunny heard her start and stop twice before whimpering, "I want to."
"I know. And that's sweet. And it's not helping. No amount of telling me you like it this way is going to help. Even if the Traveler's undead army theory isn't true and she really did give us to you out of goodness, wanting humans that died to have a second chance just because, then I woke up a warmonger."
"Arguably," mumbled Freija, but Sunny ignored her.
"And if it is that the theory is true, then we're pawns and I'm the warmonger."
"And self-defense? That Taken scared me."
"You didn't even try to talk to it. I know you know now it wouldn't help, but even on day one...."
"'kay, while I completely get that you'd prefer I tried to talk to people before I shoot them, the Taken do not, at any point, give you the chance to mistake them for friendly. Scorn, neither. The eliksni'll run half the time, they'll act scared and only wanna fuck with you when you get too close, same as the Cabal, but Scorn and Taken are both worse than even we are. They don't even wanna steal our shit, they just want us dead. And the whole conflict with the Cabal and the Eliksni is getting... better."
Sunny wondered if she was working her way to a good point and resisted bonking her guardian on the head.
"I'm trying to say the fighting is necessary, but it really will end. And you and me can both do stuff that isn't fight, and I will probably still get myself killed a lot. But it won't be in the line of fire, it'll be 'cos I decided to clear some rubble and moved the wrong support."
Sunny couldn't imagine it. She could see Freija being crushed because she got hasty, but it didn't feel like the fighting would end. She could think it before before. She couldn't now. "I don't want you vulnerable. I don't like you liking the fighting. I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to stop fighting. I don't know what to do, Freija. I can't tell you, it's so complicated even I don't understand it.
"For nine hundred years, I looked for you because I needed to, and that was all there was to it. I didn't think about why. I didn't think about what I would be bringing you into. I knew, but I didn't think about it. I even heard other people talking about it, other ghosts, and there's a whole faction of conscientious objectors who refuse to awaken a corpse for the sake of fighting in a war-- but I didn't want to listen to them. I wanted my guardian. I thought about you and imagined you and predicted and dreamed and I missed you so much, even though you wouldn't be born until I had been at it for nearly a millennium."
Freija pet Sunny's shell and gave her a questioning brow lift instead of her usual concerned and confused frown. Sunny recognized her efforts in trying to be a good listening ear.
"And I raised you like I knew how because it was all I was born for, was finding my guardian and raising her. I raised you into a life I knew would feature more days of war than days of peace without a single thought about it. And worse, I carried, or followed if you prefer, through the gunfire and real fire and Taken fire and Hive fire-- shut up, let me finish--" Freija had opened her mouth and took the preparatory breath-- "I know you went on your own. I know I was following you because you went, and you would even have tried to go without me, I'm sure, you're all reborn fearless. But that's not the point. The point is that, at no point, with every horrible death and every time I got to look at your dismembered body and your ruined face and never thought about it. The times you'd scream and it bothered me, I'd be angry that you'd do it to yourself, because the only times your screaming bothered me was when I told you to stop and you wouldn't. I didn't think about how it had to hurt every single time. And I continuously resurrect you to do it some more. You can only burn off so much of the damage at a time, you can only tolerate so much pain at once. And yet I expect you to tolerate more."
"You can't not," Freija argued. "I mean, you could, but you can't not."
"I could leave you down and abandon the fight," Sunny agreed. "But then I'd miss you again. And I'd know what I was missing, that time. You won't stop. You can't stop. You'd go insane."
"So would you. Can you imagine, whatever little group meeting the objectors have? You'd make one of your jokes and they'd all look at you funny. Or you wouldn't, you'd get to listen to them tell horror stories about whatever motivated them to reject the rezzing business. Or, like, I dunno, they'd feel all judgy or whatever. You'd get bored, too."
"I could..." Sunny objected, but she fell short, too, and wagged her ears. "I think espionage and scouting?"
"Sideways combat related. Perpetuating the war. Does it really count?"
Sunny bonked Freija's helmet.
"We're vets, Sunbeam. It won't go away. You might have been born one, I might have been reborn one, we might have picked it up the moment I shot that first Taken, picked up that Old Fashioned and checked the bullets like I knew what I was doing. I dunno. You're right, and I still see what you mean-- I still think that if I had to do your job, I'd want to quit, too. But I've got my job, which is doing my best to end threats to me and mine. Your job has always been to get me up and keep me going while I do my job. The ways you've helped go from talking me through trouble to hacking me through a locked door to showing me the exits, calling my ship, waiting for me to come back to the Light. Putting me together is a part of it, but to me, it's not even close to the most important."
"That's because you're dead when it's important," Sunny pointed out bitterly.
Freija tried not to laugh, then failed and snorted. "Okay, fair enough. I don't notice being dead."
Sunny wiggled her ears and thought about it. "Actually. That did help a little. What's it like to die?"
Freija swung her head to look at Sunny as she hovered along. "Uh. That's. A weird question, I guess? Haven't I told you? I know I complain."
"You don't complain about being dead, you complain about the thing that killed you and how much you don't like it, and why not."
Frieja grunted, then chuckled. "'kay, I don't know how many times I've died certain ways, but. When it's slow? A lot of the time, I'm in shock, and I'm too confused to be scared way before it goes dark. Consciousness and awareness go, like, first. Probably before I'm even really mortally wounded.
"Quick deaths are just confusing, because that's just, standing there and now you're resurrecting me. It's a lot like being transmatted. No time passes between death and awakening, to me, and location changes take some adapting but you get used to it. Like being transmatted without the warning and sometimes even without moving. Sometimes I wake up with memories of what killed me, sometimes I wake up still sore. I haven't felt any amputations or dismemberments. I reckon if it came off, it doesn't hurt anymore, does it?"
"Even the times I they get blasted off while you're awake and alive?"
Freija shrugged. "I have literally no recollections of that ever happening without surviving through it, so no, I don't think so? As much as I complain, and yeah, a lot of it really does hurt, but I don't remember dying, and I forget most of them."
"The fires hurt."
"The fires do hurt, but mine is good," Freija agreed. "A lot of the time, mine's hotter and consumes the weak ones' flames. When they kill me, I've been engulfed, but I only stood there because mine was with me. It kills me by being whatever kind of fire it is. Hive fire and its life sapping shit, Taken fire and its... whatever that tingly feeling is. It didn't burn." She grinned. "I don't think I can burn like a normal person, or even a normal guardian anymore."
Sunny had evidence of that one. "Oh, that's not mine," she murmured to herself. "I told all of these to Caiatl, and I didn't think anything of it then, either. How about those times you've been blasted open instead of apart?"
"Huh?"
"You've remarked on the specific shade of purple your liver is. Does this mean anything? Do you even remember it?"
Freija did hesitate, and Sunny tried to read into it, failing.
"I do remember. And yeah. That one was fucked up," she agreed slowly. "It wasn't even combat, it was a fucking jagged ass piece of some shit on the moon. I can't even remember if it was Hive, Eliksni, or leftover human scrap. Yeah, I remember that one."
"Cleavers have been known to cut deep," Sunny added. "You've been all but disemboweled."
"Yeah, that sucked, too," Freija agreed, and she put her hand over her belly. "Was a good shot," she muttered. "Last one they got in, I'm sure they were proud of themself in their last moments. I never understood that, why they're so willing to fight with us, knowing that victory lasts only as long as our deaths."
"If they can find us and stop us, it works."
"I've mown through thousands of people," Freija pointed out. "Of all species. Me getting dismembered is the least of comeuppance."
"You're not helping," Sunny reported.
"I don't know how to help. I want to. I don't understand."
Sunny bounced irritably in the air. "I don't, either! I can't get it out!"
"Okay. I'm still gonna take it easy working for a bit," Freija assured Sunny. "Failsafes can just put up with us floating around."
"We're happy to have you aboard, Captain!" cheered #1.
"Yeeeaaaahhhh," added #2.
War Drums (med-long)
Lost (long)
No comfort (long)
Real Purpose (long)
Slipped Truth (med)
Still Sulking (long)<-
Stubborn Recovery (med)
Freija's Waltz (short)
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giuggiulu · 3 years
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I can not express how HYSTERICAL I am over the way my roommates decided to cut my cake
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I choose violence
*sigh* are you going to attack me with a plushie again, Egg? Please don’t
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dayseternal-blog · 3 years
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Hi days! I know you're the best person to go to for some NH fic recommendations. Can you share with us really angsty NH fics? I've read White Lillies, that amount of angst is revitalizing I LOVE IT!!! big thanks!!!
HELLO
For how fluffy NaruHina is, there SURE ARE A LOT of shippers who LOVE NARUHINA ANGST.  I’ve been asked for angst recs far more than any other type????
I will now compile every angst fic rec I’ve ever made into one long list.  (folks can see if there’s anything I’ve missed 🤓)
NARUHINA ANGST
“A Place In The Sun” by ihaveastorminme - Rated M for smut and depictions of violence, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto realizes that he’s not enough to love her.  He’s not enough to save her, either.
“A Fate Worse than Death” by Caelestia - Rated M for smut, ABO Canon-Divergent, One-shot.  Naruto, improperly socialized and traumatized as a child, rejects his inner Alpha, which has devastating consequences on his family and marriage.  “A Risky Bet” is its fluffier follow-up.
“Girl No 10″ by meeiwen - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto makes a mistake with a dancer one drunk night.  Years later when he meets her again, he begins realizing his perfect life is a lie, but he’s too late to fix it. Angst if you want to know what dying feels like warning.
“if this is love (why does it hurt?)” by ClairvoyantDreamer1011 - Rated M, Friends with benefits Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata knew many things about Naruto Uzumaki. She knew that his heated glances meant ‘I want you’; that lingering touches whispered 'please’, and that the sight of his back to her screamed 'leave’. But she couldn’t tell you what they were to each other for the life of her.
“If You Said You Loved Me” by destiny’s sweet melody - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot.  Naruto begins to realize he took her feelings for granted and now he’s too late.
“The Ring that Binds” by softwind - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto and Hinata are married.  So why is Naruto calling “Sakura” in his sleep?
“Why would innocent little Hinata be out dressed like that?” (One-shot) and its follow-up “On Any Given Day” (Long One-Shot) by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent. Hinata tries to move on from Naruto, right when he realizes he wants to keep her.
“For the Future” by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata understands this better than anyone else. Naruto is easy to love.  (I actually just hate the ending a lot.  That’s what puts this on the list).
“Gilded Butterflies” by Kid Crisis - Rated M for depictions of violence, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Tenshi, beautiful prostitute of the Villa, realized from a very young age that people seem to do nothing but empty her, and not even Naruto seems capable of convincing her otherwise.
“Serenity Prayer” by @katarinahime - Rated M for smut, substance abuse, PTSD, and depictions of domestic violence and non-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. When their fairytale endings smash to ugly pieces, Hinata and Naruto help put each other back together.
“Common Side Effects” (Naruto’s POV) by @katarinahime & “Medicated” (Hinata’s POV) by @szajnie - Rated E for smut, substance abuse, mental illness, and depictions of violence, self-harm, and attempted suicide, Crime/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata, in a struggling relationship, must confront the pain inside before they can love each other.
“In Another Life” by theGeneralissimo - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. In which Naruto listens to his mother’s advice and marries a girl like her. And lives to regret it.
“Mistake” by Cherry1315 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto falls apart, and, unfortunately, Hinata has to pick up the pieces.
“Until the Day I Love” by BluBlooThalassophile - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Everyone is recovering from the war.
“Hidden From Sunlight” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. How different could Naruto’s life be when the girl that seemed 'barely around’ is truly hardly around at all?
“Powerless” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated M for depictions of violence and character death, Mystery/Crime High School/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. His family’s past can’t be taken at face-value, and it comes clawing back to hurt him in ways that are out of his control. DELETED FIC.
“21 Days” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E includes dub-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Anonymous internet friends decide to meet up IRL and give each other their first times.
“April - Too Late/Missed Opportunities” from “Still Falling for You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, College/Modern AU, One-shot. After her 3 years away for college, Naruto decides to confess.
“June - Honor/Sacrifice” from “Still Falling for You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto marries Hinata, the girl of his dreams.  If only she loved him back.
“you totally almost killed me that one time (it’s okay I still love you)” by @itachiboutit - Rated G, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete.  Naruto, a promising baseball player, returns to Konoha Prep, and, without so much as even a “long time no see,” hits a ball into Hinata’s face. (This isn’t really angsty…but I get really upset in Ch. 4 and cry a lot every time.)
“Because I Love You” aka “Arranged Marriage AU Take 2″ (Same fic) by @magmawrites - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. A canon divergent fic in which The Last never happened and Hinata Hyuga was promised to another.
“Asylum AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M, Modern AU, One-shot. What’s to say what’s real and what isn’t? The only thing that’s valid and true in all universes is their love for one another.
“Dreaming of AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M for implied suicide, Modern AU, One-shot. Naruto dreams of her. He grows to love her. Dreams are nice. Too bad reality is a nightmare. (Most likely a continuation of the Asylum AU.)
“Memory Loss AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. I LOVE YOU. Will I ever hear those words from your lips again?
“The Path We Walk” by @tenney-shoes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. With his memory of the past five years missing, Naruto never expected to be married to Hinata, and now he must navigate through the maze that is their life together with no memory of how he got there.
“Easier For Me” by @tenney-shoes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Two-shot, Complete. How will Hinata handle waking up with no memory of how she got there?
“My Escape” by @marimare-writes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto wakes up from a coma with no recollection of life after graduating the Academy. Hinata, anxious and with a secret that will change both of their lives, struggles with what to do.
“Consolation Prize: Through Her Distorted Mirror” by mysterious intentions - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Her love is taken lightly, as if her heart could change so easily.
“Good Luck” By LovelyLori - Rated T, Flowers/Ballet AU, Two-Shot, Complete. A Japanese ballet company arrives in Naruto’s town.  Can love transcend language barriers? (I spent HOURS looking for this one, it totally breaks my heart.)
“On the outside looking in” by @char-lotteral - Rated E for smut, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto’s in love with his best friend’s girlfriend fiancee.  And he’s not moving on.
“Sincerely, Uzumaki Naruto” by @bkgsbby​ - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. After his wife leaves him a week after giving birth to their son, Naruto moves back to Konoha. He adjusts to life as a single father, with the help of his friends and surprisingly, his old crush.
“Road to Redemption” by averagejane497 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto’s made a lot of mistakes in his life, especially concerning the women he loves. Maybe this time he can get it right.
“You’re the One” by AnimeloverNUMBA100 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. After 4 desperate years, Hinata finally asked Naruto out. He decides to give her a chance, but his feelings for Sakura has never faded. Hinata is slowly losing hope as time goes on…and she soon chooses to leave him.
Untitled by @randomprose - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Prompt: Hinata finds out that Naruto told Minato that Sakura is his girlfriend.
“Jitters” by ncfan - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. He has her heart but he doesn’t even know it.
“The Red Umbrella” by ncfan - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. As the rain hits her, Hinata thinks about what she doesn’t have, and what she’ll never have now.
“Duplicity” by GoldKing - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Uzumaki Sakura wants to know why Hinata’s children are blond.
“My Favorite Night” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata harbors deeper feelings for Naruto after three years of being his roommate. When he starts dating Sakura, Hinata decides it’s in her heart’s best interest to turn the other way, and leaves Naruto for good with a heart-breaking secret in tow.
“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which…Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.
“Blurred Lines” by @vegebulsoup - Rated E, Police / Cops and Robbers Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Detective Naruto Uzumaki is having a hard time staying focused at work due to an elusive, dark-haired beauty.  (Starts off fun and smutty, grows angsty).
“I want you to cry” and its sequel “Road of Tears” by Devahhole - Rated E for graphic murder, dub-con/non-con, and smut, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A sociopath blinded by revenge runs into his greatest opponent.
“Absolute” by @ssa25 - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. She was his kind, shy and innocent friend. Until she wasn’t. He was her pure, beautiful and unrequited love. Until he wasn’t.
I’m very glad that you enjoyed my “White Lilies” fic!!  Here’s everything I could think of for you to cry or stress out over.
SAD READING 😢
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firemblem-fics · 4 years
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Running With the Wolves [1]
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-> Yuri Leclarc x Fem!Reader
-> Modern!Au | Gang!Au | Enemies to Lovers
-> Word Count: ~3.3k
-> Warnings: Violence, Blood, Cursing, Weapons
-> Summary: You were just a normal college student, trying to find her way in a new place. You didn’t mean to get caught up in the wrong crowd. You just wanted coffee, but now you’re running with the wolves.
-> A/N: SURPRISE I POSTED IT EARLY ! thanks to my lovely beta readers for helping me revise and edit this chapter to make it better! i’m still in a writing mental block but i think this is one step closer to getting out of it! so, please enjoy (again)! also, all characters are aged up (21+)! also y’all should reblog this so it gets out more 🥺
send me an ask if you’d like to be on the taglist!
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"Fuck- She's losing too much blood, Boss, she's not gonna make it!"
"No, no. She's going to make it- I'll make sure of it. Stay alive!"
Your vision was dark and blurry- you couldn't quite see anything. You could only make out a few silhouettes hovering above you, each one rushing around and yelling frantically. You couldn't count how many were there. Your vision kept doubling and it was hard to discern one person from three. Focusing just caused things to get worse.
"Someone put pressure on the damn wound! She certainly won't make it if you all keep messing around."
It was only now that you noticed a sharp pain radiating from your chest, right below your ribs. You gasped loudly and coughed. It hurt worse than the throbbing that already coursed through your head. Your body burned.
Trying to look down, you saw a rag soaked in blood. Hands with bright nails pressed down on your wound to slow the flow, but it didn't seem to be helping. You started feeling dizzy and laid back again, clenching your eyes tight as nausea engulfed you.
"No, keep your eyes open, Y/N, dammit! Wake up!"
Slowly, the pain began fading, as did your view of the people above you and their voices. You could still barely hear the voice crying, sobbing out your name. Whoever they were, they were crushed.
"Wake up!"
Was that voice finally fading away too?
"Wake up!"
No- it was getting louder.
"Wake up!"
"Ellie, what the fuck do you want?" You groaned, rolling over on your bed.
Your roommate bounced on her knees, making your bed creak loudly. "What do you mean? It's like 10am, your class is at 11. Don’t talk to me with that tone of voice."
"Fuck me."
"Absolutely not, baby." Ellie smacked a pillow beside you and got up. "Get ready!" She went to her own room, leaving you to your own devices.
When you applied for an apartment roommate, Ellie was certainly not the one you were expecting. You would've preferred a chill, laid-back, person. Instead, Eleonora Yumizuru walked into your life (and apartment) and practically made herself at home. She didn't judge you from transferring so far away from your old home for your last year of college, claiming that "home roots don't mean shit when it comes to making it in the real world".
She had the right to say such a thing, having moved to Fodlan from another country in her youth. She was able to understand the occasional homesickness and help you cope as you adjusted to Fodlan life. She understood you like the back of her hand from the moment you met and you did the same for her.
Really, you had to let her move in. She’d probably have stayed even if you rejected her.
She was the complete opposite of what you were looking for- overconfident, stubborn, loud- but she grew on you and easily became your best friend. There was just something about the bubbly, blue-eyed, blonde-bobbed bitch that hooked you.
She had certainly hooked other people as well, but thank God her bedroom is on the other side of the apartment. Her social skills and magnetic personality worked for platonic friends and acquaintances as well. Ellie was constantly bringing over friends, allowing you to expand your own circle. She was heaven-sent for a newbie like you.
You sat up from your bed, yawning and stretching. Trudging to your bathroom, you rolled your eyes as the infamous Taylor Swift blared through Ellie's speakers, "Shake it Off" shaking the entire apartment. Nothing against T. Swift, but sometimes she was not the first thing you want to hear when you wake up. At least not at max volume. Ignoring the song switching to "You Belong With Me" -another banger from Swift herself, but really "Teardrops on My Guitar” was your favorite- you finished getting ready and lazed into Ellie's room.
"I've got class 'till late today." You sat on her bed. "Do you want me to pick up dinner? It’ll let me explore the area."
"Oh, please do. You need to get out more. But where?"
You shrugged. "There's really only like two good food places here. Golden Pizza and Blue Lion Buffet. Your choice."
Ellie thought for a moment. "I went to the buffet with my little friend Touma the other day... so pizza! I just can't choose a side in their little spat."
"Spat?" You tilted your head.
"Goodness, Y/N! I know you're a little new here, but you haven't even heard of the shit that goes on between those restaurant owners?"
Shaking your head, you stayed silent for her to continue.
"The owners of Blue Lion Buffet, Eagle's Freezery, and Golden Pizza are all huge rivals. I heard they were all close, but went their separate ways. All the owners' kids are our age, too. They go to Fodlan Uni, but I don't know who they are." She smiled. "I am an esteemed woman with an upcoming high status. Who would I be to take sides? I prefer to cater to them all."
You could only nod, hiding a smirk at Ellie’s infatuation of fame. A huge restaurant rivalry. How funny. "What about that little cafe on the corner? What's it called? Café des Loups?"
"They're pretty neutral, just some college dropouts trying to make some money. I think they’re gonna get involved eventually- every restaurant’s been dragged into their drama at least once."
You nodded, standing up and messing with your apartment keys. "I'll keep that in mind. Bye, Ellie!"
"Bye! I better see some pizza later!" She called as you made your way out of the apartment, now playing "I Knew You Were Trouble".
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
College was honestly a scam.
You sat in the classes for two hours at a time, for what? You were paying thousands of dollars to be talked at by old dusty men who made you fall asleep faster than trying to read their overpriced textbooks. You paid thousands to nap at a desk.
Unfortunately for you, though, your thousand dollar desk nap was interrupted by a tapping on the surface. You huffed and looked up, coming face to face with a pair of soft, orange eyes. They radiated kindness and just looking into them seemed to lift your mood immediately.
"Hey, you need to wake up for this part. The professor said there's gonna be a quiz on this section tomorrow."
You shot up, looking back at your professor. Blushing embarrassedly, you smiled at the boy. "Thank you..."
"Ferdinand." He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth, as if to conceal his smile, before giving up and returning yours just as brightly.
As you faced forward to Professor Hanneman, as you were pretty sure his name was- or was it Ham Man? You didn’t care enough to know- you were now struggling with two distractions. One, the weight of your eyelids as they threatened to pull you back into dreamland. Two, Ferdinand.
You kept glancing at him, taking in his complexion. He must have come to class late, since you didn't see him before. Or maybe he was on time- you did fall asleep quite early into the lecture.
You were eyeing his carefully sculpted jawline, dotted with subtle stubble that connected to sideburns and led up to clean, silky, orange hair. You wished to run your fingers through it-
"Y/N, this is the second time I've seen you not paying attention." You jumped nearly three feet in the air. "Next time, I'll have to ask you to leave my class since you are obviously taking it as a joke."
"I-I'm not joking! Sorry!" You stuttered, finally finding a reason to keep your attention on the lecture. You did look away once, just to glare at Ferdinand, who only winked and chuckled at your misfortune.
Class was eventually over and you sighed, finally loosening up from forcing yourself to pay attention. You packed your notebook and laptop and swung your backpack on, getting ready to leave the room before a voice called to you.
You turned back. "Ferdinand?"
"I was simply wondering where your next class was. I can walk you to it, if you'd like." Said boy walked quickly towards you, holding himself with a nearly-perfect posture. You felt anxious- he was trying to make himself seem like a gentleman, but you still felt a little unnerved.
"Oh, um, sure! It's not for another fifteen minutes, but it is across campus."
Ferdinand's grin seemed to get larger, making his eyes crinkle at the edges. "How wonderful! That little caf�� is down there and I've been meaning to check it out anyways. It works out perfectly."
"Uh, yeah." You laughed nervously. This was the first time a boy had taken interest in you- or was he really interested? Maybe he's just being nice-
"Also, before I forget. May I get your number? I'd like to talk to such a gorgeous woman like you a little more."
Oh, he was so interested. You had to make yourself breathe again as you handed him your phone to let him put his number in. He gave it back to you and you noticed a heart and a smiley face emoticon next to his contact name. Your heart fluttered at the sight of the emojis and you felt your cheeks heat up a bit. Ferdinand gave you a sweet smile before holding the door open for you, letting you lead the way to your next class.
On the way to the building, Ferdinand spent the time asking you questions and getting to know you better. He had scratched basically the entire surface of you, save for the secrets that new people shouldn't know, and the same could be said for you. Ferdinand was definitely a polished and refined man. He made quite the impression on you.
"What are you doing after classes?" You asked, hoping to invite him for pizza at your apartment.
"Ah, I've got work!" He smiled sheepishly. He definitely caught onto your hopes...
"Really? Where? Maybe after, you could stop by for some Golden Pizza-"
"Actually, I work at the Eagles Freezery." He was tense, suddenly. "So I really shouldn't. Rivalry and all of that, you know?"
You were a little confused, actually. "Why would that prevent you from hanging out for a bit? You didn't buy it, I did. Plus I thought the rivalry was only between the buffet and the pizza place?”
"It's- it's a loyalty thing. It’s between all three of us.”
"It's a restaurant. How loyal could you possibly be to a dumb little ice cream parlor-"
"It's more than that!" Ferdinand snapped his mouth closed, suddenly making himself quiet after his angry outburst. "Listen, I cannot and will not eat there, look at it, talk about it, or do literally anything about it. Please, just understand that."
"Uh, yeah." You nervously readjusted your backpack on your shoulder. "I- I should get to class now. I'll see you later, Ferdinand."
"Goodbye, I'll message you after work!" With that, he sent you a wink and a smile and turned, going about his own day with the most carefree pep in his step. As if nothing ever happened. You, on the other hand, could not have been more confused. Ferdinand seemed unpredictable when it came to his moods. He was comforting and kind, yet was so… upset when you insulted the parlor. It was a restaurant. Why did he get so worked up about it? Maybe Ellie was right about it being such a big deal.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
“I just ordered! Go, go, I’m starving!”
Not even five minutes after you got out of your last class, Ellie was calling to remind you about dinner. You were still slightly unnerved from your encounter with Ferdinand, but you agreed to pick it up and would never hear the end of it if you didn’t do something as simple as takeout.
Golden Pizza was only about two blocks away and you stayed on the phone with your roommate the entire time, only saying goodbye as you walked in the establishment. The restaurant was very nice, the honey yellow walls and the glow of the wood-fired oven making the ambience warm and welcoming. You didn’t wait long in the line, soon coming up to meet a boy about your age with a glimmering emerald gaze and a smile just as bright at the front counter.
“Hi!” The boy- Claude, according to his nametag- greeted, “How can I help you?”
“I’m just picking up an order for Eleonora Yumizuru.”
Claude nodded and typed a few things into a computer at the counter. “I know Ellie! She and I had Stats together before she dropped out to pursue her acting career. She’s certainly something.”
“Oh, definitely. I’m her roommate.” Speaking of the devil, your phone vibrated in your pocket. It was a message from her. “She actually just messaged me. Wants me to bring her a dumb little lemonade from that cafe.”
Claude laughed, “You can go and get it now, if you’d like. Your pizza will be a few more minutes. Ellie set the time for your pickup for later, so you’re actually ten minutes early.”
You thanked him and left, walking to the cafe. You took your time, observing the shops around you. Across the street from Golden Pizza stood the Blue Lion Buffet. You smiled to yourself- what a cliche to have rivals across from each other. Beside the pizza parlor was another food shop, the Eagles Freezery. You thought about Ferdinand- he said he was working today. Maybe you could drop by and- No. No, Y/N. Go get your lemonade and go.
A soft bell chimed as you opened the door. You saw four people in cafe uniforms, going about their day as you approached the register.
“Welcome to our humble abode!”
“Constance, that’s only used for a home.”
You shyly waved at the so-called Constance and the pink-haired girl who corrected her. Cafe des Loups- or Cafe of Wolves- was a quaint place, quiet and not crowded, kind of like an off-brand Starbucks. Dim lights adorned the high black ceiling, illuminating the shop just enough for a comforting ambience. There was a mural of a rainforest painted on the wall to the opposite of the counter with comfortable tables and lounging areas. If you could, you’d probably waste the day away lounging around. It was the perfect environment for an introvert like you.
At this shop, a large dark-haired man controlled the register instead of Claude. As you approached the register, you noticed that he wasn’t wearing a nametag, but you had a small urge to call him Bigfoot.
“Hey! What can I get ‘cha?”
You scoured the menu. “Just two pink lemonades is fine-”
“Oh! Good choice!” Constance interrupted you, coming to stand beside the man. “Yuri-bird over there makes the best sweet lemonades!”
You followed her gaze over to a man who was sitting on a stool, slouched down and leaning his head on his hand. He stretched and stood up. “Thank God, we haven’t had many customers all day. I was starting to think we lost our appeal.”
“Of course we have not!” Constance replied. She turned to you, but you couldn’t tell whether she was still talking to Yuri or you. Maybe it was neither. “Not when someone as handsome as Yuri is making the drinks and my attractive self is greeting the customers!”
“Hey! I’m just as much of a visual as the boss-man.” The taller man joined in after taking your money. “We’re all pretty nice looking. Especially this little lady ordering~”
You blushed a bit. “Oh, please, I’m nothing special-”
“Nothing special?” Constance laid her hand against her chest. “You’re wonderful! Almost on the same level as me. Isn’t that right, Yuri-birdie?”
Yuri looked up from making your drinks, his analytical eyes seemingly boring holes into you. You shuddered, feeling like he could tell your deepest and darkest secrets from just looking at you. He shrugged, going back to the lemonades.
“She’s alright, I suppose.”
“You suppose? Yuri, that’s rude-”
Hapi was midway through lecturing the purple-haired man when the door to the shop chimed open and a rather large group came in. Yuri looked up and suddenly stood alert, as did the other three workers. In the group, you saw a familiar head of orange hair and orange eyes met yours. Your face screwed up into confusion.
“Ferdinand?”
“Don’t say anything.” The leader of the group, a short, white-haired girl snarled. “Are you a new… worker here?”
“Wh- you just told me not to say anything.”
Slowly, Yuri and the other three came up beside you, standing slightly in front. Your heart nearly stopped- you were in the middle of something you definitely weren’t supposed to be in and your sass had gotten on their bad side already. The white-haired girl scrutinized the five of you, her lavender eyes piercing holes through whatever facade of confidence you had tried to put up. You could feel yourself literally wither under her gaze, even more than you did when Yuri looked at you.
“What do you want, Edelgard?” Yuri put his hands on his hip, one fiddling with something under his shirt.
“I want your loyalty.”
Yuri snorted. “You aren’t in charge.”
“I’m not? Hm. Tell that to my father after he stepped down. I’m the leader now- the emperor, if you will.” Edelgard sighed heavily. “I have no time for more conversation if you won’t comply. Hubert, deal with them.”
The terrifying man who you assumed was Hubert suddenly reached in his coat and pulled out a handgun, aiming it at the five of you. Yuri quickly retaliated and pulled one of his own, throwing it at Constance before grabbing your wrist and running to the back. A loud gunshot rang through the air as you and Yuri continued to run. You both dodged around coffee shop equipment and he dragged you through a labyrinth that they considered the back of the store.
As you were running, Yuri pulled you to a sharp right turn and your arm scraped against a metal machine in your way. You hissed in pain and looked down at it, seeing a large wound going down your shoulder to your elbow. It was starting to bleed rather quickly, but you had no time to worry about it. You’d have time to tend to it if you survived.
“What’s happening?”
“No time to explain. Quick, hide!”
Yuri pushed you against the wall in between two larger cabinets and stood in front, grabbing yet another gun from his other hip. He cocked it, listening for the ruckus of the fight in the main room to make its way towards your location. You were shaking like a leaf, grabbing tightly onto your wounded arm and smearing blood all over your fingers and your clothes. You breathed heavily, trying to calm yourself at least a little- was this why Ferdinand had been so defensive over the Eagles Freezery? What kind of restaurant rivalry would constitute attempted murder? And wasn’t this cafe uninvolved anyways? You didn't have time to ponder any more questions as a loud crash echoed through the room. Yuri lifted his gun and began to speak lowly, not taking his eyes off of the door.
“When I say run, go out the back door and get in the black car back there. Don’t go home- one of them will find you.”
A gunshot rang through the air and Constance, Balthus, and Hapi burst through the doors, running towards you all. Yuri turned to you as the three of them caught up to him, pulling out their own weapons again as Edelgard began yelling.
“Run!”
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taglist: @fairyblue-alchemist @emperor-pizza @flavoredmilktea @fe3h-random-writing-and-stuff @mifuyuyu @blviddyd @laurexlance @atomicchocolatecookie @mapesandoval @local-goth-lilz
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69 notes · View notes
ill-skillsgard · 4 years
Note
Faith and Faust have been on my MIND lately. Thinking about him starting to get more protective over her like him waking up to her curling into his side and he has his arm sling around her. Or at a party when one of the rivaling band dudes tries getting her to sleep with him. He ends shit quick.
Previous Faust x Faith imagines here (x)
Note: This drabble got looooong. Over 3K. I think it might qualify as a one-shot, but oh well. We’re super close to the smut I’ve been teasing y’all Faust fans with. Enjoy!
Warning: 18+ drug use/drinking/violence/death threats etc.
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Faust watched joy unfurl on Faith’s face. What was once her standard smile brightened into a beam so incandescent he had to look away. She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms about his neck. If he took a step, surely she would have remained stuck on him like a cluster of chattering burrs.
“You really want me to come? Like, really? It’s not just a pity invite?” Faith asked.
“I’d never invite you if I didn’t actually want you there,” Faust told her.
“I know! I’m just so happy! I can’t wait!”
As fast as she exploded, a sudden and cold realization snuffed her enthusiasm. Faust saw her eyes, once wide and spirited, turn wistful. 
“What is it?” He asked, feeling her disappointment as she slid off him.
“My parents will never let me go. Not for an entire weekend.”
Faust clicked his tongue. “You’re an adult, Faith. You can do whatever you want.”
She shook her head, teeth pulling her bottom lip inside her mouth. “Not if I want to live there. As much as I’d love to be on my own like you, a minimum wage job at a bookstore barely covers rent. And I don’t know anyone around here who’d be my roommate.”
Faith assumed her disclosure would throw the same gloomy shroud over Faust’s expression, but he smirked and snorted. “Just tell them you’re going camping with Jessica and her family.”
“My dad will demand to meet her parents. There’s no way they’ll let me skip church for a camping trip without meeting them. Trust me, I know my parents. There’s no way to pull it off.”
“What about a phone call? What if Jessica’s dad talked to your dad on the phone? Would that work?”
Faith drew breath in through her teeth. When she looked up at Faust and saw his air hadn’t tainted with the sourness of defeat as hers had, it gave her a glimmer of hope. She’d do most anything to go away for a few days with Faust and his band. 
“I’m not sure. It’s risky. And if he doesn’t buy it, I’ll be screwed. He’ll never let me out of the house.”
“It’s stupid that your parents still control everything you do. Do they expect you to suck the teat your whole life? What about when you go off to university? Are they gonna monitor you every day?”
“No, but then I won’t be under their roof,” said Faith, her cheeks warming from his distaste. 
“Just tell him you’re going to Jessica’s for the night, then call the next day and say you’re staying another night.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. They’re already questioning me about her. Asking when they get to meet her, what’s wrong with having sleepovers at our house... My dad is catching on, I can feel it.”
Faust grunted his aggravation. “I feel like I’m dating a ten-year-old. You have to get permission to do anything. It’s fucking stupid.”
His frustration stirred up a whirlwind of emotions in her chest. On one end, Faith loved to hear him admit they were a couple, but on the other, Faust’s scorn reminded her of the infantile rules she had to follow and her father’s distrust. She was an adult, and there was no reason she shouldn’t be allowed to go away with her new boyfriend for a few days. Dejected and without hope, Faith’s eyes watered.
“Don’t you think I know how stupid it is without having you reminding me all the time? I don’t want to be me, but I am. If I don’t listen to my parents, they won’t let me choose my school or anything. They’ll put me in a private school. You don’t understand what it’s like to have parents like mine.”
“Thank fuck, I don’t.”
“So, I guess I’m not coming with you.”
Faust sneered and motioned at her purse. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“I’m calling your dad.”
Faith clutched the strap of her suede bag, the thought of a staged conversation between her secret boyfriend and her father causing a lapse in any rational thought process. Though she stood rigid, Faust urged for her phone. She held her breath after relenting, a faint whisper of sweat dappling her nape. He held the phone to his ear and, noticing Faith’s paleness, turned from her to not crack a laugh.
Faith longed to hear her father’s voice, whether he spoke in a monotone or smelled the bullshit reeking off Faust’s words. Before she leaned in, Faust laughed through another bite of conversation, thanked the man and hung up. He tossed the phone to Faith and winked.
“That’s how it’s fucking done, babe. You’re coming.”
“What? Really? You did it?”
Faust wished not for her praise, so he stooped quickly to kiss her, but she pulled away, astonishment hanging off her jaw. 
“Wait, what did he say?” She asked.
“He said yes, obviously.”
“No, but, like, what did he say?”
“A whole bunch of shit. I don’t know, but you might want to start thinking up a new imaginary best friend because he’s keen on meeting Jessica and her bullshit parents soon,” Faust guffawed.
~*~
After Faith climbed into the back of the band van — a rust-bitten, grey clunker of a machine — Faust gave her a bare introduction to the rest of the passengers. The group wore clothes of all black, patched denim vests, leather boots or white high-top sneakers and sported varying lengths of shaggy headbanger hair. Faith felt vibrant as a rainbow with her floral summer dress on and a glinting gold chain suspending a cross pendant between her breasts. She hoped her fashion choices wouldn’t harrow Faust’s reputation as the broodiest member of the band, but when he held her hand in the back seat as they took off, all self-consciousness flew out the cracked windows. 
They pulled up to a squat apartment building where two girls stood waiting. Similar black clothes, dyed hair, illegible band patches, ripped fishnet tights and metal jewellery reminded Faith of how different she must have looked. She was the outcast in this group of like-minded individuals. The girls piled into the van, throwing their backpacks into the mess of camping gear while one lit a joint and passed it to Ola, the guitar player, who’d taken up a third of the space in the van by lying length-wise across the floor. The second of the pair noticed Faith and scrutinized her with two heavily lined blue eyes.
“Who’s that?” The girl made a general inquiry, avoiding eye contact with the newest presence in their group.
Faith hesitated a breath and then answered. “My name’s Faith.”
The duo exchanged smirks and giggled. “Okay. Did you find this one at Sunday school, Faust?” The blue-eyed girl asked.
A frosty mask of distaste tainted the drummer’s neutral expression. “Fuck off, Anika. Not everyone’s cunt doubles as a sewer. Nasty bitch.”
The girl named Anika scoffed, smacking Ola to prompt some defence, but received a chorus of snickering instead.
“Fuck you, Faust,” sneered Anika, imploring Ola’s intervention with a glare. “Are you just gonna let him talk to me like that?
Ola shrugged his shoulders, pulled his hood up over his mop of long blond hair and lowered his sunglasses. “He’s got a point.”
Anika turned her attention back to her friend, conveying some wordless message, and scoffed again. “We’re already off to a great start. Faust’s dating Mother Teresa and Ola’s being a little bitch.”
Mordy, the bass-player and driver, glanced into the rearview mirror, cynical eyes pinning on Faith before a curve in the road demanded his attention. She recognized him from the party. He was a quiet man with long, brown curls tied into a ponytail that nearly dusted his tailbone. Mordy shook his head and turned up the stereo to drown out the voices with walls of assaulting guitar riffs.
To Mordy’s right, the singer of the band — if he could be referred to as a singer — slouched into his seat, cracked leather boots perched up on the dash. Faith forgot his name, but didn’t worry over figuring it out until later. The passengers bobbed their heads in time with the music as they carved through the countryside and came to a dirt road that stretched for miles. She worried Faust’s friends would never accept her, but when he took up her hand again and held it in his lap, she leaned her head on his shoulder and decided it didn’t matter. Faust liked her, maybe even loved her, and that was enough.
The spot they chose was no more a campsite than the forest was a trailer park. Faith thought they’d never stop hiking until they came upon a small clearing, far enough away from civilization it was unlikely anyone might chance upon their tents. The group set up their gear while Ola and Mordy argued over who got to start the bonfire. 
By the time Faith unrolled her sleeping bag and changed into more comfortable clothes, the sun was minutes from disappearing. Mosquitoes caught their scent, ignoring the citronella torches doing nothing to keep them at bay. Faust insisted she douse herself in bug spray and did the same before rolling a felled log from the forest to use as a seat next to the crackling fire. Once the group gathered around the flame, out came the beers and weed. Several joints came around the circle, one of which Faith took a puff of before Faust plucked it from her fingers.
“You’re gonna give yourself the spins,” he warned.
Anika glared at the drummer. “Let her smoke if she wants to, Faust.”
Shocked by Anika’s change of heart, Faith gave her friendliest smile. Perhaps it was the alcohol smoothing over her prior judgments, or maybe she was always crass with newcomers, but soon, Anika and her friend Sam urged Faith over to their area, offering her sips of hard lemonade between pulls from a shared joint. Faust watched from the corner of his eye as he poked at the embers with a stick. 
“Um, where do we go to pee?” Faith asked an hour after sundown.
Faust spread his arms wide, gesturing all around the site. “The forest is your toilet.”
She blushed and turned to her new girlfriends.
“Don’t worry, Faith. I brought toilet paper. I’ll get you some,” said Sam.
Equipped to trudge through the forest to find a suitable spot to relieve herself, Faith heard the boys howling from afar and giggled. She found a log large enough to provide her some cover even though the night was black as pitch and the tops of the trees filtered out most of the moonlight. She could still see the fire flickering in the distance and headed toward it after she finished her business.
Twigs snapped underfoot as she ducked under low-hanging branches, intent on cutting straight through despite many obstacles. But before she reached even ground, a black figure stepped out from behind a thick walnut tree. It was the singer whose name she still couldn’t recall.
“Lost?” He asked.
“Nope,” Faith giggled, feeling the effects of both the weed and alcohol mixing in her bloodstream. “The campsite is right over there.”
“Right over where? I think you’re lost,” he said, taking a step forward.
Faith’s breath hitched in her throat. She tried to peer past him to spot Faust, but he cut off her line of sight. 
“Don’t worry about ol’ frosty Fausty. He’s busy talking to his ex-girlfriend. I’ll help you find your way out.”
She took a step back, and he matched it with a pace forward. Soon there was hardly a gap between their chests.
“I see the way you stare. You want me,” the singer claimed.
“Um, I think you’re mistaken. I’m with Faust.”
The man laughed, then took a drag of a cigarette Faith hadn’t noticed burning away between his fingers. He flicked the butt away and touched her shoulder. She snapped back, her heart plummeting from the unwanted contact.
“Can you not? I promise whatever you think you’ve read, it’s wrong. Faust is my boyfriend.”
“Man, for someone who dresses like a prissy smart-ass, you sure don’t know how things work. And you’re dumb to think Faust will settle any time soon. Trust me, I’ve known him since grade school. There’s no chick in this world good enough to hold him down. Least not for long. He’ll tire of you just like he did with Anika, and you’ll become another band-whore. Sticking around the guys to try your hand at being picked. I’ve seen it happen, and you don’t want that.”
Faith didn’t have much of a temper, but what underlying rage she harboured stoked beneath the scorching air of his words. It brought to light all the reasons she thought up to explain why Faust had yet to have sex with her. Perhaps what the singer claimed held truth. Maybe Faust was using her to gain shock points from his circle of friends. 
“Me, on the other hand... I’d treat you right. You’re too pretty for him, anyway. What’s a girl like you even doing sniffing at his heels? You’re not exactly his type.”
“I guess that means I’m not your type either,” Faith bit back.
“You’re most definitely my type. And I think you know it.”
“I’d like to go back now,” she whispered.
“Come on. Just think about what you’re doing. Faust will rip your precious heart out. You’ve no idea how many of his rejects I’ve had to comfort after be humps them and dumps them. What makes you think you’re any better in his eyes?”
“Faust loves me.”
“Oh, yeah? Has he told you that?”
“No, but... He doesn’t have to. I know he does. Otherwise he wouldn’t have—“
“Invited you here?” The figure chuckled. “Yeah. Right. This is where we bring all the band-sluts. Best not to think yourself wife material. You’ll only be disappointed.”
“Why are you doing this? Aren’t you his friend?” Faith asked.
“Yeah, sure we’re friends. Best friends. Which is why you should take my advice before you end up hurt—“
Something knocked the words from his mouth in a flash. One second he was upright, and the next he was on the ground, groaning from impact. Faust stood in the darkness, arms hovering at his sides to prepare for what he’d do next. Faith hadn’t realized she let out a yelp until voices from back at the campsite started calling out their names. Faust stooped, grabbed hold of the singer’s ankles, and dragged him a few steps.
“Get the fuck off me! What are you doing? Get off!”
Faith looked on with utter panic as Faust hauled him through the brush toward the campsite. She followed. The others gathered at the edge of the treeline until they noticed Faust’s hulking form and took steps back to clear his path. The drummer raked his hand through the singer’s hair, lifted him by the belt and tossed the man toward the fire. Before he could scramble to his feet, Faust was at his throat, fingers tangled in his hair again to force his face close to the roaring fire. The rest of the group looked on in horror as the singer’s moustache and eyebrows singed. Inches away from the licking flames, he let out a howl that nobody but they reeled from.
“If I ever catch you talking to my woman that way again, I’ll find you. I’ll find you and nail you to a fucking crucifix, douse you in gas and set you on fire.”
“Faust!” Ola snapped from his shocked state and lunged for the drummer before he caused permanent damage.
It took both Ola and Mordy to wrestle Faust off the other member, and when they did, Faust spit on him as the girls huddled together. Anika curled a protective arm around Faith’s shoulder as Sam stepped in front of her. Both girls wailed for them to stop, but their cries went unanswered.
“You hear me, motherfucker? Go near her again and I’ll murder you with my bare hands. You know I will!” Faust screamed.
“Fuck! My face! You burned me, you sick fuck!”
“Next time, I’ll slaughter you!”
“Faust! Faust, stop! Stop with the death-threats, okay? Enough! We came out here to have a good time!”
Faust shrugged his friends off, but they kept proximity in case the drummer took a swing. When they were sure Faust made his point, they let him go to Faith, who rushed into his arms and buried her face under the flap of his leather jacket. 
“Are you okay, Sven?” Mordy asked the singer as he stumbled to his feet.
In the firelight, the group stared at Sven, shorn of all his facial hair, brows and eyelashes included. The wind swept the stench of burnt hair away as he swiped his hands over his face, coming away with oily smears of his singed moustache on his fingers.
“Does it fucking look like I’m okay, Mordy? This fucking psychopath almost killed me! That’s it... We’re kicking him out of the band. I’ve had enough of his shit!”
Ola and Mordy exchanged strained looks, then turned back to Sven, both laboured with regretful grimaces.
“It’s not your band, Sven,” Ola mumbled.
“So what? Didn’t you just see what he did to me?”
“What happened back there?” Asked Anika.
“We were just talking!” Sven yelled. “I was just talking to her before this crazy fuck sucker punched me!”
“I heard what you said. And I should have known you’d try to pull a fucking move on her because that’s what you do. You try to fuck everyone’s girlfriend because you can’t find your own. It’s gonna earn you a tombstone, asshole!”
“Faust, come on. I think he’s learned his lesson,” Ola tried again to diffuse the tension.
“If anyone’s out of the band, it’s you. You won’t play in this town ever again.”
Faith tightened her arms around Faust’s waist, and the move worked to ground him. He realized then how scared she was, wheeled her about and guided her away.
They left the group, not stopping until they descended a slope and came to a small river. Faust took out his cigarettes, lit one, and exhaled more than just smoke. Faith watched, stiff and unable to give voice to her racing thoughts. All she could do was cling to him until he was ready to address the situation.
“Sorry,” said Faust.
“Sorry? What are you sorry for?”
“For scaring the shit out of you.”
“It wasn’t you who scared me.”
“I know, but still. Fuck, maybe I should have handled that a bit better.”
Faith noticed her hands shaking as Faust kicked rocks into the water, hauling on his cigarette until he burned filter. If she was honest with herself, Faust’s reaction had frightened her, but showed her all she needed to see.
“I... I love you,” came her wavering reply.
Faust looked up as though she’d let out a scream, eyes wide and lips pressed together. She shook her head, immediately regretting what she said until he went to her and pressed her to his chest again. He kissed the top of her head.
“I know you do. And I feel the same way, I think. But you have to let me do this at my own pace. All right? I don’t want to fuck this one up.”
A tear rolled down from her eye, but Faith smiled. Oh, how she smiled, clinging to him in the blackness, the trill of the stream drowning out the arguing back at the campsite. His heart thumped against her cheek. The beat erased all Faith’s fears of him growing bored with her. She would wait for him as long as he needed. 
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hearthandhomemagick · 3 years
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Cottage Witch Journal Entry
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I have a longing for Tennessee. 
I have a pure, unadulterated and wild attraction to the Tennessee Mountains. This is a dream I’ve had, and a yearning I’ve felt, for years. A need to be hidden deep in the mountains in a tiny cottage/cabin of sorts. I’m sure this is an affinity very popular in mainstream culture today, and all I can think of when I hear people say they want a cottage or cabin in the mountains is, “How the Hell does everyone expect to FIT on these mountains?!” But, this is my Shadow Self, the over realistic and overthinking side of myself. And I easily get discouraged from my own wants thinking of others wants. 
This is a side of me to notice in myself. I need to be able to move past thoughts of, “If everyone wants it, I’ll never have it.” and move forward with thoughts of, “This is something I want for myself, and I deserve to work hard for it.” And that’s a goal I have with myself. 
You see, this post isn’t just about my want to be in Tennessee in the woods, it’s much deeper than that I feel. It’s about improvement and wanting to grow. 
I bring up Tennessee because that is not a goal I can easily obtain within a couple of weeks or even a month. But, it is something I want to build up to obtaining. Something I want to do right so that everything is exactly as it needs to be. And I can’t fully accomplish this until I accomplish other goals that take precedent first. For Example, my physical health.
As a witch, I truly believe in loving every part of yourself, the good and the bad. The exciting and the terrifying. The understood and the neglected. Part of this acceptance process is learning what is and is not acceptable for my body. Now, I have struggled with my weight and how I see myself since I was a child. I remember a little boy seeing my tummy in a bathing suit in 1st grade and him telling me I was fat and that his dad said fat girls were ugly. Comments like this, stares and whispers were constant when in regards to my weight. It felt like an overwhelming amount of attention was directed at the way I looked, even if no one was looking at me I felt as though everyone was thinking about it. Over the years, this mental state took a tole on a lot more than I expected, even affecting me today with my Significant Other. The consistent attention to my own weight pulled me into depression, our of depression, into anxiety and out of anxiety. What I mean is I had an up and down relationship with my tummy. 
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I felt abandoned most days. I would get this idea that I was too much and not enough all at once. A gentle and cooing tone from my toxic thoughts led to a lot of issues and concerns for me and my health. Some days, I would read something that made me feel as though I was a Queen. A bad bitch lurking in this cruel world and taking it by the throat to stare it in the eyes and say, “I love my body fat.” 
The sad part is your heart, mind and body know when you are lying to it. I didn’t love my body. Not in those confident moments and not in those depressed moments. I was locked away in a cage in my mind that gave me two illusions to choose from, while hiding my third option under the rug. I neglected my feelings because I didn’t want to experience them. I neglected my health because I didn’t want to deal with it. And I neglected my body because I hated it. 
Reality here is that this is the only fucking body I have. Do you understand that? Let me repeat this so maybe you can understand how harsh of a reality this was to me. 
I am on this Earth for goodness knows how long. 50 years, 20 years, 72 days. I don’t know, and no one does. I was literally forced into owning this body, whether I like it or not, it is mine. I can move houses, I can get a new car, I can get a new job. I cannot get a new body. 
I heard this in High School and started what I called my weight loss journey. I lost maybe 20 pounds while attending a workout-boot camp of sorts and trying to maintain a healthy diet. That sentence resonated so much with me that I repeated it every day to myself. My motivation was on point. Then, I stopped going. There are multiple reasons why I stopped, but none of them are rightful excuses.
I just stopped. 
Now, during those days I had lost weight, I was starting to gain confidence in myself and was attempting to genuinely look out for my health. I had more energy and felt amazing! But like I said, I had stopped for terrible reasons. 
Fast-forward to college and you will find a very anxiety filled, sleep deprived and mentally exhausted Carly. Some nights I wouldn’t sleep but for 4-5 hours. Other nights I didn’t sleep at all. I believe my stay up streak was 3, going on 4 nights. All due to homework. My coping technique has always been eating food, too. So when you have a sleep deprived student settled next to a 24/7 pizza joint with half baked cookies, you gain 30-40 pounds. 
At 245 Pounds, I was at my heaviest. This weight gain came on as my roommates were saying I was fat, stupid and were making me question myself frequently. Self hate festers among others who don’t value your worth, remember that. So, through those years of college I weighed an uncomfortable amount of weight that made my body start shutting down physically. 
Mental Health had a lot to do with my physical health, here as well. When I was in a really bad place, I would stop moving completely and just sit still. If I had a terrible feeling, I’d cook something to make myself feel better or would just grab a processed, quick snack. It was a pattern of mine. I’d get just enough motivation to do one or two things, and then I’d stop all together and feel as though that was enough for a few weeks. 
Eventually, when I was done with college, I started back on that rollercoaster of healthy and unhealthy. I’d lose 5 pounds, then gain 7 pounds right back. I started detail critiquing myself and stressing myself out. My weight never could get under control, and I couldn’t break the 200 mark to save my life. I would see pictures and videos of myself and feel as though I had eaten an entire buffet. Not too long after getting with my S/O and starting my job as a Sexual Violence Outreach Advocate, I got sick.
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It started as a birthday dinner at a Korean Barbecue in 2019. I was with my two best friends at the time and having a blast. We all ate the same food, but when I woke up the following morning I was throwing up everything in my tummy. 
The throwing up went on for 4 days before I was taken to the hospital, only for them to release me saying it was virus. My personal doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong and it eventually became an everyday thing. I would wake up between 3-6 in the morning, go to the bathroom and be sick for hours before pulling myself together to make it to work. 
Weeks turned into months, and months turned into a year. 
I lost 50 pounds from this thing that no doctor could seem to figure out. I got x-rays and everything, but nothing and no one could tell me exactly what was going on with me. I couldn’t eat anything friend, only raw fruits and veggies, or broth. I only drank water and ginger based drinks, and could not for the life of me stop what was going on with my body. Many doctors tried to pass it as a virus, stomach ulcers, GURD, or even Heart Burn (?). None of them were right. 
After a long time, my mom finally confessed that every woman in our family has Endometriosis. If you don’t know what this is, it is the build up of scar tissue on the outside of your uterus. This leads to nausea, ovarian cysts (which they found on me in x-rays) and sub or infertility. No doctor can diagnose it, either, unless you have a surgery to see if there is scarring. So for many, suffering on your own is easier than seeing a doctor. 
I discussed this with my doctor, and it was as if a light flashed in her brain. This is a disease she cannot say I have, but can say it sounds very much like that. It is hereditary and once you have it, you have it for good.
After this information entered my line of though, I decided the stress from my job was too much for too little pay, and chose to leave. Leading up to my leaving the job, I was sick almost every second of every day. The moment I left, I felt better.
I still feel pain in my ovary area, but because I don’t have the money to see a doctor, and can control my pains with eating habits and physical influence, I choose to work through it alone. 
I said ALL THAT BACKGROUND BULLSHIT JUST TO SAY THIS!!!!!
This is the part that marks my new journey. It is the Journey to Strength and Well Being. The Journey to Feeling Good. The Journey the Choosing my happiness over anything else. And the Journey to choosing the health of my body over my insecurities.
I wrote this because a couple of days ago I had a very graphic and vivid dream about my boyfriend falling in love with the woman I wanted to be. In other words, I seen him with a woman who literally presented all of my insecurities to me. Small, lithe and dainty, gentle and calming, and everything I wasn’t. She was beautiful. And he seen this, and did things for her that he never did for me. I woke up almost in tears, because my emotions were raw, but I had no idea that my insecurities were still very deeply rooted. 
I pondered over the last few days of this dream. What it could mean, what I should do, how I should feel and I have finally come to a conclusion.
This dream is a depiction of my fears. My brain was saying, “You need to address this shit right now.” and did it in the most face slap kind of way I could think. 
I still, even after learning to love myself genuinely, have image issues that need to be nurtured and tended to before I can move forward in my life.
So, I’m making 1-3 goals every month that are attainable and reachable. This will be a brick road to my obtaining that cottage/cabin in the Tennessee Mountains. 
This months Goals start today! 
GOAL 1 -  Learn to do a split, find a healthy yoga sequence, be able to do 15 pushups, & 30 Squats by the end of December. 
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GOAL 2 - Make a conscious effort to what you eat/making a new dish once a week to try.
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GOAL 3 - Save $100.
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This is a process, and I am only human. I don’t want to fall back into the habits of toxic mentality. I don’t want to neglect myself or how I feel and I don’t want to lose myself in to the world in the process of searching for freedom from myself. 
I expect myself to exude self control, self love, and empowerment. I expect to expect better from and for myself, and I expect to accomplish my goals.
I manifest it here, I can do a split. I have a healthy maintainable yoga sequence that I have committed to growing expanding and changing. I can do 15 push ups and 30 squats. I have 100 dollars saved up already and make concious decisions that better my health rather than hurt it. This is part of my lifstyle now! 
And it is for the better!
Thank you to anyone who read this through. These entries are more for my benefit and thought process, but appreciate anyone who recognizes it or even relates and wants to talk about it. It’s personal to me and means a lot. I intend on being on here more often to update my challenges and express how I use my witchcraft in the process of this Journey.
I love you all! Stay safe, warm and full to the brim! Later Witches! xx
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quizzical-paradox · 3 years
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god. if anyone were to be my roommate they'd never wanna share a residence again. every day, i wake up and choose violence. i drink the beans. i blow something up. i gravely injure myself. i pull out my game collection which consists of nothing but every crash bandicoot and spyro the dragon game in existence because i hyperfixated when i was 10 and i set it on fire. i dissociate and slip into various self-destructive ideations which i never talk about. i then proceed to crawl under the bed like a bug and commit sleep'nt while listening to two trucks. literally noone i know could handle all that shit
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xaykwolf · 3 years
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I wake up every day craving violence, and every day I choose kindness and peace instead
But DAMN if my roommate isn’t pushing the needle over to violence rn
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jj-lynn21 · 4 years
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How A Girl Must Live Ch 2
Ch 2: Popular 
  ch 1: A place for singles, Ch 3 Opening Up  ch 4: Dating Ch 5:Family Ch 6 Violence begets Violence Ch 7 Love Birds
Notes: This chapter is inspired by the Nada Surf song, Popular. In the song they quote an actual book for girls called The Teenage Guide to Popularity. It was a Manuel that came out in 1951. It became a book in 1960. The Teenage Guide to Popularity.
Thanks for reading so far paulweirdley, loomiz, ch4sing-oceans , goblincxnt , waywardtigersandwich , super-pink-a-palouza , ameliachastain, thestonerosas, rouge-coquelicot, nerdicesbro, @lizziejorgie​, 
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Three alarm clocks ring loudly in unison at 4 in the morning. Samantha pulls her pillow over her head as the rest scatter to get beautiful for whomever  will meet them at the door to escort them to breakfast. There chatter about “the one” is annoying her as she tries to sleep another hour at least.  
“Wake up silly goose,” Missy grabs the pillow off her face. “You do not want to face your likely future husband without your face on.”
“My face is naturally fine,” Samantha mumbles sleepily. “I can throw on some lipstick and put my hair up in a twist.”
Her roommates flitted around tossing dresses and undergarments everywhere as they giggle and talk of possibilities. As things pile up on Samantha, she huffed loudly and throws it all on the floor getting up to go to one of two bathrooms connected to the room. She knocks.  
“I’ll be a few minutes,” Flora chirped sweetly as she worked on her no makeup, makeup look.  
Samantha stomped to the other side of the room grabbing a random dress from the pile hoping it might be one of hers or at least fit halfway descent. She flew into an open restroom as soon as she saw one of the girls come out. As she was pouting her lips to apply some stain a knock was heard at the door.  
Her roommates cackled loudly as she straightened the dress she put on and did a little twist.
“It’s for you Samantha.” The girls’ voices rang with surprise.
Samantha made her entrance with a bored look on her face. All the girls watched her float across the room just as she had been taught. “I suppose I am ready.” She looked at her escort. It was one of the boys that was playing cards with Willard the night before.
“I’m Mr. Jonas.” The boy smiled. “It is nice to see you Miss. Samantha.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jonas.” She held his arm. “I would rather keep my late nice adventure between us if that is alright with you?”
“Of course, Miss Samantha.” He saw her to her seat for breakfast. ‘May I call on you for a walk after breakfast?”
“That would be fine, Mr. Jonas.” She smiled politely knowing she really was not allowed to say no. It was just a walk. She was planning to take one to explore the place anyway before her art class.  
The boys sat down to a full plate of bacon, sausage, two pieces of buttered toast and a fruit salad with cherries, oranges, peaches, and pears. The girls could choose between bacon or sausage with dry toast and the same fruit bowl but one cherry, half, and orange, half a peach and half a pear.  
“Eat slowly young ladies,” Mrs. Sally chided as she walked around the girls’ tables.
Mr. Jones walked around the boys’ tables darkly. “Chew with your mouths closed gentlemen. Never shovel your food into your mouths like a bunch of Heathens.”
“Being attractive is the most important thing there is.” Mrs. Sally lectured as they all ate. “If you want to catch the biggest fish in your pond, you must be as attractive as possible. Make sure to keep your hair spotless and clean. Wash it at least every two weeks. “
“That goes for you boys also.” Mr. Jones agreed. “Grooming is important if you want to be noticed by gentler ones who will make your house a home.”
“Here we support a one-week limit on going steady.” Mrs. Sally continued. “I think it will keep people more able to get to know more people.”
“Yes, there are many beautiful girls here.” Mr. Jones winks at the girls. Most of them giggle. “Give as many as you can a chance.”
“Complementing goes a long way boys and girls.” Mrs. Sally goes to stand in the center.  
“Good point sweetheart.” Her husband joins her kissing her cheek. She blushes. “Boys if you would like to make lunch or dinner plans to have with one of the girls talk to me soon. Have a fun today. You are dismissed. I want to see Miss Samantha, Mr. Jonas, Mr. Goodland, and Mr. Stokes in my office before you go about your day.”
Samamtha’s eyes shot open with surprise as she stood.  
Mr. Jonas walked over to her. “Don’t worry doll.” He whispered in her ear. “You were never there. I keep secrets.” He winked and escorted her to the office.
As everyone walked in Mr. Russel stood from a chair in the corner. He nodded expressionless. When Samantha looked his way, he looked away towards the boys.
“Mr. Goodland has brought to my attention an incident that happened last night that all of you witnessed.” Mr. Jones started. “Did you have a violent outburst against Mr. Goodland, Mr. Russel?”
Mr. Russel cleared his throat. “I don’t know why the female is here, but I did reprimand Mr. Goodland for his disrespectful statements about the gentler sex. I don’t want to scare the young lady with what Mr. Goodland said.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mr. Goodland whined. “She witnessed the whole damn thing.”
“Language Mr. Goodland.” Mr. Jones warned. “Do any of you other boys remember Miss Samantha there when she should have been in bed.”
“I just knew I wanted to get to know her better after seeing her at dinner last night.” Mr. Jonas remarked. “I’m hoping to still get that walk after this Miss. Samantha.” He nodded to her with a smile.  
“Mr. Stokes?” Mr. Jones lifted an eyebrow to the young pudgy boy.  
Mr. Stokes swallowed hard darting his eyes to everyone in the room. “It was just us boys and Mr. Russel learnin’ some life lessons, Sir.”
“Learning not learnin’.” Mr. Jones correct. “You are dismissed Miss Samantha. You may stick around right outside the door. I will not keep you waiting for your first date long.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jones.” Samantha curtsied before rushing out of the room. She could hear the men and boys speaking as she stood there waiting. She stayed because she was told to and because she was curious if her being there would come up again.  
“I can’t believe you believe them over me.” Mr. Goodland yelled. “My Father will hear about this and he can destroy you.”
“Enough, Mr. Goodland.” Mr. Jones cut him off. “I am in charge here. Mr. Russel this is your second warning not to get too rough with guests. But please, tell me what happened that you couldn’t say in front of the girl.”  
“I was discussing with the boys how important it is to treat your girl with kindness.” Mr. Russel glared at the boy. “That little fuck thinks it is perfectly fine to hit women to keep them in line. It is something he learned. It is something he should unlearn while he is here. Don’t you agree, Mr. Jones?”
“Agreed.” Mr. Jones glared at the boy also. “I don’t care what goes on in your home young man. That is between your Mother and Father. Here we treat them as the delegate flowers they are. Still, Mr. Russel, The boys bruised head shows you over did it a little. You come to me next time instead of dealing with it yourself. You hear me?”
“Yes, yes Sir.” Mr. Russel  answered promptly like he was back in the military.
“Good, I think we are done here.” He smiles and pats Mr. Jonas on the back. “Have a nice date young man. Shall I expect the two of you need a dinner table to yourself?”
Mr. Jonas enthusiastically beamed. “That would be great Mr. Jones.”
Mr. Jones nodded. Mr. Goodland stormed off. Mr. Russel moseyed out next. Samantha looked up at him as he was leaving. He put his finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. She smiled and nodded.  
When Mr. Johnas came out, he jetted his cricked arm out. “Let us go for that walk doll. We still have time before your art class. You can tell me about what you will be painting. I hope it is not dogs playing poker.” He chuckled.
She giggled. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to. Maybe, I will paint the lake.”  
“Sounds lovely, Miss Samantha.” He escorted her outside. “I made dinner plans for us tonight.”  
“That sounds lovely, Mr. Jonas.” She smiled kindly. She did not really feel any attraction towards the boy but he did stick up for her so she figured a walk and dinner was the least she could do. 
“We shall walk down around the lake, so you get a full view of your subject.” He smiles as he escorts her to the shores of the small misshapen lake.  
The lake is inhibited by a family of ducks paddling around. Two babies follow their Mother. She is gently quacking for them to keep up with her.  
“May I ask what classes you will be taking today, Mr. Jonas.” She smiles politely hoping she did not overstep her bounds.
“I have an etiquette class.” He stops the two of them walking to look over the lake. “Just a refresher course. I will go to Columbia University in the fall to major in finance, so I am taking a finance class here also. Money is so interesting...”  
As he continues to speak about his love for money Mr. Russel catches her eye. Instead of the suit that is mostly warn by all men at the resort he has a button up with on. Still in his dress pants but his sleeves are rolled up to show off his biceps as he carries tables, chairs, easels, and a few suitcases full of supplies to set up the painting area for her class.  
The sun is hot. Sweat beaded up glistening off his forehead. As he wiped the perspiration, he noticed Samantha and smiled nodding kindly. An unfamiliar heat rose in her cheeks. She looked away. Mr. Jonas noticed she was suddenly flushed.  
“Oh my, let me get you a drink my dear.” He ushered her back towards the main building. “I didn’t realize you were so sensitive to the sun. I have an aunt that always has a parasol when going out since she too has a sun sensitivity.”
As they are leaving the lake front, Mr. Russel hears a Lady’s voice call to him.  
“Mr. Russel can you move everything a few more feet from the lake.” It is Miss Tracie with two glasses of lemonade in her hands.
“Of course, Miss Tracie.” He starts to move things.  
“My word, come get a drink before you finish, Mr. Russel.” She holds out a lemonade as she sits in a chair under a shady tree. “I can’t have you falling over with dehydration.”  
He takes the drink and sits across from her. “I’ve learned to be like a camel in the army, Miss Tracie.” His lips puckered as he took a sip of lemonade.  
“Well, thank you for your service.” She finished her lemonade, put the empty cup down and started putting paints out.  
He just nodded finishing his lemonade. He knew when he brought up being in the war most people got uncomfortable. It made him uncomfortable to think about the terror he saw there also. After moving, some tables and chairs that were too close to the lake, he politely said his farewells. “Would you like me to take the empty glasses to the kitchen?”
“That would be kind of you, Mr. Russel.” She smiled kindly. “Thank you for all your help.”
“You are welcome Miss Tracie.” The girls were being escorted to the art tables. Mr. Russel glanced at Samantha as Mr. Jonas escorted her.
“I will be fine, Mr. Jonas.” She assured him not looking in Mr. Russel’s direction this time. “I just needed some water. I feel fine. I will see you at dinner. Have an enjoyable finance class.” She said it but could not imagine getting any joy from such a class.  
“Alright dear.” He went on his way.  
She ignored the other girls tweeting about their first dates. Hers did not feel like a date. She wanted to be polite because he was polite, but she hoped he would talk about more than finance at dinner. She did not trust any of the girls enough to tell them her thoughts. The way her roommates were talking, especially Pamala, they had already met the loves of their lives. That is until painting class ended, and Mr. Goodland stepped up.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Goodland.” Miss Pamela said twirling her red hair flirtatiously.  
He nodded with an overconfident grin but turned away, “Miss Samantha, I hope you will let me escort you to you next class. Would that be modeling with Miss Rita?”
Miss Pamela huffed loudly mumbling, “someone’s become Miss popular.”
Samantha corrected him nervously, “I will be going to the library next.”
“Shall we then?” He offered her his arm expecting her to be a good girl and not say no.
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dorkroyalty · 3 years
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Sacrificial Animal
I have a dream where I am watching someone slaughtering a horse. Somehow I am the horse being slaughtered and the farmhand with the knife. All I can do is watch as I kill myself. My veins pumping blood that is only leaving my body , pooling on the dirt. My nostrils flaring trying to continue breathing and there is blood on my leather shoes, as my human hands grip my black mane with one hand and hold the knife with the other. It isn’t like killing an animal raised for eating. It isn’t like this.
But it feels so normal. It is still so wrong.
All I can hear is the words: So, this is abuse without violence .
I wake up and go to my restaurant job. A coworker has exposed me and my roommate to covid. We only find out from our coworker being kind enough to let us know instead of our manager who found out hours prior when he called out. We insist on being let go to go get tested. After making enough of a ruckus about it, a manager makes arrangements. My roommate is crying at her station while continuing to serve customers and I feel like I am watching myself from outside of myself.
I am the farmhand and the horse and the onlooker.
I think about my friends with office jobs, the ones on Instagram going to brunch and Halloween parties. I think about the second stimulus check being half of what it was almost a year ago. Our manager makes my sobbing friend promise to return to work after the test regardless of the results. And I think about how funny and strange it might look to someone else.
“Aren’t you worried about covid? I know you are. Then why are you working a restaurant?”
The implication of choice here is what is funny to me. That I had options to choose from. I did not. I looked for jobs for months until I couldn’t afford to not have one anymore and got hired on the spot at this restaurant.
The government says we're essential but provides us no hazard pay. The government tells us to isolate but also expects us to keep going to our high risk jobs, paying our rent, buying luxury items. My job needs us there desperately, so desperately it would rather us come back to work with covid than let us protect others or rest. It feels like I have no choice between paying my rent and protecting myself and my loved ones from a horrific virus. I worry everyday that I am going to get sick or that I am going to get someone else sick. I am the horse. I am the farmhand.
I am watching as I kill something. I am watching as I am killed.
Why am I slaughtering this horse? What am I a sacrificial animal for? What god is this for? The god of convenience? The god of capitalism? The god of the economy?
I am the horse and I am the farmhand and I am the onlooker and i am trapped in a cycle where it looks like I am the person killing myself.
But we must ask how it came to be this way.
Who put us in this position?
Who made us promise to come back to work for their benefit rather than ours?
Who provided us no other alternatives?
Who told me I had to slaughter the horse to survive?
Please understand that the public health crisis will continue as long as our government fails working class people at every turn, and as much individual power it might seem we have to prevent the spread, that the government has forced people to go to work. It has failed to provide them meaningful help. Failed to declare a moratorium on rent. Failed to give consistent and larger stimulus checks.
I quit my restaurant job this week as cases spike in Georgia and as the restaurant I work at gets busier and busier. Christmas is days away. I am privileged because I have the ability to walk away from this job because despite hating asking for financial help, there are people in my life with the means to support me while I find a new and safer job.There are so many others who do not.
We are the horse. We are the farmhand. And our circumstances have handed us a knife.
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buoyantsaturn · 4 years
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all that I want (2/6)
summary: Nico woke up to the sound of a clock bell tolling. His head was pounding before he even opened his eyes, and he groaned when his phone started to ring somewhere near his head...again?
word count: 1205 (2407 total)
WARNINGS: graphic depictions of violence, major character death
read on ao3 | read part one
Nico woke up to the sound of a clock bell tolling. His head was pounding before he even opened his eyes, and he groaned when his phone started to ring somewhere near his head.
He looked up to make the noise stop, but froze at the sight of the room around him - it was a dorm room, just like the one he remembered waking up in the day before. Across the room, he saw the same tall blond - wearing the same flannel shirt two days in a row, really? - and Nico sat up with a groan. God, he needed to stop drinking so much, but at least it was Saturday, so he didn’t have to go to class.
The blond - what was his name? Will? - spun around and smiled at him, which gave Nico some serious deja vu. Then he opened his mouth. “Oh, good! You’re awake! I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be woken up for class or not, but I have to head to mine pretty soon, so it’s a good thing you’re up!”
“I don’t have class on Saturdays,” Nico told him as he stood, and frowned when he realized that he was wearing the same clothes he’d woken up in the day before - his boxers and somebody else’s t-shirt, Will’s if he had to guess.
Will cocked his head in confusion. “It’s Friday. Are you alright?”
“Fine,” Nico snapped, “just...had a weird dream.” He reached for the stack of folded clothes on the dresser next to him, and pulled on his pants.
“I, uh, folded your stuff for you,” Will said, awkwardly rocking back on his heels, “since, you know, nobody likes wrinkles, right?”
Nico rolled his eyes, though it only aggravated his hangover. “Do you have Tylenol?” he asked as he pulled off his shirt, and once again, Will turned away - this time, though, Nico noticed a touch of pink high up on his cheekbones.
“Um, sorry, what was that?”
“Tylenol,” Nico repeated, and watched as Will turned toward his desk to start his search. “It’s on your bookshelf.”
“Oh, right!” Will retrieved the pill bottle while Nico put on his shirt.
As Will handed Nico the Tylenol, he said, “Um, by the way, I’m not sure if you remember my name or not - I mean, you were pretty wasted last night, but, uh, I’m--”
“Will,” Nico said, and Will beamed. Nico shook out two pills and popped them into his mouth, swallowing them dry.
“Right! Uh, did you want some water?”
“Nope.” Nico stepped into his shoes and turned to leave. “See you.”
“Oh, uh, goodbye!” Will called after him.
What a weird morning.
Nico remembered everything from his morning lecture, yet he couldn’t find his notes for it anywhere. He’d started to convince himself that he’d dreamed everything that had happened the day before, but was it possible to dream an entire lecture’s worth of information that he didn’t already know?
At lunch, his roommates asked the same pestering questions, but Nico shot each of them down with just as much ease as he had the day before. He really didn’t want to hear what anything of them would have had to say if they knew he’d slept over at the same guy’s dorm room two nights in a row - or, one night? He still wasn’t quite sure what was going on, and he wanted this weird day-long deja vu trip to end already.
He stood up to throw out the remains of his lunch, remembering a split second too late what had happened the day before, and ended up with a shirt covered in barbeque sauce once again.
“Oh shit, Nico, I’m so sorry,” Will said.
“It’s fine,” Nico grumbled, reaching for a few napkins off the table to wipe the sauce off of his arm.
“No, really, can I, like, buy you a coffee or something to make up for it?” Will offered, and as much as Nico would’ve appreciated some caffeine to get through the rest of this day from hell, he was already going to be late for his next class since he now had to go home to change.
“Would you just give me my ring and leave me alone?” Nico almost felt bad about snapping at him when Will’s expression dropped, but he dug the ring out of his pocket and dropped it into Nico’s awaiting hand.
“Sorry,” Will said glumly, and turned to leave with his head hanging.
Nico’s attention was drawn away from Will’s retreating form when Percy said, “Dude, did you hook up with him last night? You should invite him to the party tonight!”
“Why on earth would I invite a hookup to a party?”
“Maybe because he actually seemed like a decent person, unlike every other guy you’ve ever hooked up with,” Jason pointed out.
Nico rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I have to go home and change before class.”
Nico was a little bit more on edge that night as he was walking alone to the party, remembering what had happened the night before. He got a text as he was walking, choosing to take the long way around to the party rather than cutting through the woods, and decided to at least listen to one of the voicemails his father had left him that day.
“I can’t believe you would leave me at that restaurant,” his father spat into the phone. “Two hours I waited, and you never showed up. You promised you would have dinner with me tonight, Nico! I know you think this is some kind of coping mechanism for you, but I miss her too, and cutting me out of your life is making me feel like I lost two children instead of one.”
Nico deleted the voicemail.
In a few minutes, he found himself outside the frat house that was hosting that night’s party, the music shaking the ground across the entire block. As soon as he was inside, Percy was there pressing a shot glass into his hand. Three or four shots later, Nico was being led away from the party by some frat guy, heading into one of the many bedrooms. There was no doubt in Nico’s mind that this guy was looking for a hookup, and Nico was drunk enough that he didn’t care what they got up to one way or another.
They made out on the guy’s bed for a little while before the guy headed out to the bathroom “for supplies,” and Nico shot off a text to his roommates to tell them not to wait up for him. After another moment of lounging back on the guy’s bed, Nico got up and started looking around the room. He had his back to the door when it opened, closing again silently.
An arm slipped around Nico’s waist from behind, causing him to flinch as he was pulled back against the body behind him, and something cold and sharp was pressed to his throat.
Nico tensed. “Dude, I’m not into that kinky shit.”
What great last words those were.
The knife cut in, slicing through his skin and windpipe, leaving Nico to drown in his own blood.
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thatfairyfangirl · 5 years
Text
True Colors Chapter 3
Bucky’s mind was in a daze, still foggy from the ice. He wanted to apologize. He didn’t want to hurt the...girl? With hair like that he wasn’t sure if she was a girl or a parrot. Either way, instinct kicked in, and besides, for now he had to worry about getting out of here alive and then back to a state of thinking clearly before he’d be able to do any kind of apologizing.
Your eyes drifted back to him as you lead him up to the exit. There was something almost primal in the way he watched you that made you unsure if he wanted to kill you or fuck you...but god did it ever unsettle you!
The main area of the prison was littered with men cuffed to themselves, some in cells of their own now, a few others with pants around their ankles. Though you tried to fight it you couldn’t help smiling at the scene that had been awaiting you. “Oh who did this?” Scott and Clint both proudly raised their hands as Sam and Steve gave them harsh looks. “I like you two already.”
“You both are idiots,” Bucky grumbled as everyone climbed into the quinjet waiting for them to get everyone off of that floating hell. Your eyes rolled as you passed him, heading to Wanda to remove the power dampening collar around her neck.
“Well, now they know how to negate powers without a cure...goodie.” Your voice dripped with disdain for the object as you dropped it to the floor.
“You know our absence isn’t going to go unnoticed for very long…” Sam reminded everyone as they all strapped in for the flight home.
“You’re right. What are we supposed to do now? Go into hiding?” Wanda agreed as she rubbed at her neck.
“Actually I was thinking we go public.” Tony said with a smirk as he looked over his shoulder from the pilot’s seat. Everyone looked at him, wondering if he had finally lost all the marbles, unaware of the free the heroes movement going on while they were gone. “All the protesters have gathered alot of negative attention. The UN is meeting this afternoon to re-discuss the accords.”
“And you want us there.” Steve confirmed, as if he could see right into Tony’s train of thought.
“And who better to speak than the girl leading the movement in New York?” Tony’s smirk grew as he looked to you, only to turn into a frown as he noticed the beginnings of bruises forming on your neck.
“Me?” You asked wide eyed. Sure you’ve been to a few protests, put together some mixes and written a few songs with superhero themes, maybe even started a few hashtags that ended up trending but you’d hardly call yourself the leader of a movement… But then again Tony was always good for giving you a little too much credit. “Why not Captain America or Scarlet Witch?” You asked as a knot of fear and nerves grew in the pit of your stomach.
“Because you’ve gone through this before. You’ve seen the aftermath laws like this bring. Hell! You’ve had powers this entire time and I didn’t even know it until last week. You could have been an Avenger...saved a lot of lives.”
“You must be slipping.” Wanda quipped. All the while Bucky just sat there staring at you, studying everything about you, making you feel less comfortable with each passing second.
“Point is...If a law like this keeps good people from doing good things then it's wrong.” Tony clarified. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” He paused tossing a pen and paper your way. “So get to writing. They allotted me some time to talk...it’s going to you Sparkles. Here -” he paused tossing everyone bags of civilian clothes. “Everyone get dressed.”
“You can’t just tell me what to wear and do with me as you like Tony. I’m not your whore.” You teased as you pulled your t-shirt over your uniform before pulling a pencil and pad of paper out of the bottom of your bag, feeling Bucky’s eyes widen on you at the comment.
“Meh….you kinda are.” He quipped back with a chuckle, confident you were already writing down your thoughts on the subject...which you were.
~ ~ ~ ~
With a huff of frustration you slammed the pad of paper down in your lap. “I really hate you for this you know...You can’t just spring this on me Tony! I was living a nice normal life! Spectrum didn’t have to worry about giving speeches...I speak through my music.” You vented as you threw the pen at the back of his head.
“Oh please! All those songs you’ve written? You got this...Just speak from the heart.” He reassured you, not letting the pen hitting him distract him from flying.
“We’ll all be there with you.” Steve added for comfort.
“What even am I supposed to call myself? I never planned on being a hero. Never took a name.” You breathed out, letting the true source of your frustration be known.
“Lady Prism?” Clint offered.
“Sounds too much like prison, don’t want translators getting the wrong idea.” Bucky chimed in flatly, trying his best not to look at the rainbow sitting on the other side of the aircraft. Names were tossed back and forth for a little while, none seeming to fit just right until Bucky sat up in his seat. “Why not just call yourself by the name you already have? Spectrum.” How did you not think of that before? For someone who seemed so cold and violent he definitely had a brain behind that scowl.
~ ~ ~ ~
You looked up to the ornate white building, for the first time in a long time feeling butterflies in your stomach...so this is what stage fright is...The group slowly made their way inside, met by a roar of whispers at the sight of the team that was supposed to be in a far off prison, still in the issued attire they acquired there. You all sat patiently waiting for your turn to speak, your heart beating faster with each passing second, and then finally with each step you took to the podium.
With a deep breath you let Tony inform all who looked on questioningly that you were going to speak for him. "Hello. My name is (Y/F/N). But on my thirteenth birthday I became Spectrum. It was not the life I wanted, unlike many heros I didn’t choose this. There wasn't any accident, no terragenesis. I just woke up one morning to find that I was in fact a mutant.” The crowd murmured loudly at how open you were about your….condition. “I look around the streets today and I don't just see people, I see people in fear. Fear of who they are or who they may become. Some of us, Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers for example, knew the life they were choosing. Special not just because of what they can do, but because they woke up one morning and decided to do it. But not all of us were that fortunate. Every day someone wakes up to find that they too are special though they didn't chose to be. Enhanced, Mutants, and now Inhumans. The diversity of the human population is growing all around us. But with the growth of diversity so does the danger, from both those who are empowered and those who are not.” The team rose, passing around papers. “The Avengers are passing out estimates of deaths by two organizations. The Brotherhood of Mutants is responsible for just as much death and violence as The Watchdogs. Both of these groups hands were forced by fear...Fear of the Mutant Registration Act, fear of the 'Inhuman threat'. Yet only one of these groups are currently listed as a terrorist organization and it is not the one made up of only non-powered humans. Who is to say which branch of humanity is worth saving over all others? The answer should be no one. Whether an individual chose the life or not, the origin of a hero should not matter, only the amount of lives they save. Yes, the world is a scary place. Yes mistakes will be made. But “bad guys” will still do bad things. No amount of paper will stop them. All it can and will do is slow down those who can stop them from doing their job, putting more lives on the line. The truth is we as people are only the latest generation in a long standing war...The war of good vs. evil. Will there be casualties? Of course. But how many innocents hurt in the crossfire pales in comparison to the amount of lives these people...these heroes will save by following what they believe is right. I urge you to not live in fear. With good men and women like The Avengers...all of them,” you made sure to stress all of them, as your attention went to the cameras broadcasting the debate live to all the usual news stations “in the world watching over all forms of humanity, instead live in hope. Hope that one day the hate will come to an end and they no longer need to play the role of hero. Hope that when you are the one being held captive by a crazed mutant with fire powers that the one with a flameproof shield is there. Or if not hope, then have trust… trust that who has sworn to protect will get you out safe. Because in this world of heroes and villains hope and trust is all we really can have. Thank you.” As you took your seat once more Tony smiled proudly to you, using his phone to show you that #TrustTheHeroes and #HopeAndTrust were trending like crazy.
It would seem your speech had struck a chord, not only with the public, but with the politicians as well. The accords had been tossed out and those who refused to sign had been pardoned of all crimes, including The Winter Soldier...provided he stays under the custody of The Avengers to avoid any more incidents.
Weeks later as you moved your things into the new recruits wing of the tower you began contemplating your new roommates. You had hoped that Scott would also be joining the two of you, but with his newfound freedom it would seem all he wanted to do was go home to see his daughter...couldn’t exactly fault him for that. Well at least there was T’challa...nope, turns out he went back to Wakanda to rule and give the Avengers a more international appearance to the public...and with Spider-boy’s age it was no surprise he wasn’t there either...A whole wing to yourself it would seem...oh wait...There he was...your new teammate...the metal armed Bucky, just staring at you, sizing you up… Oh joy in the most sarcastic way! You hated the way he watched you without so much as a word...the least he could do was offer help with your things. Your face twisted as you gave him a sour look causing his own face to harden in return.
“Are you going to be making noise like this all day?” He asked coldly, no longer feeling the need to apologize for the deep purple marks his fingers left on your neck...with an attitude like that why should he?
“I would be done by now if you actually got off your frosty ass and helped me out.” You retaliated as you set down the guitar from one hand and the violin from the other by your keyboard. Bucky could see the bright rainbow swirls from behind the thin white plastic holding your clothes you brought in earlier that day, and though he wondered what the ‘performance’ label meant he didn’t actually care enough to ask.
“It’s not my stuff...What do you need all that junk for anyway? No one really needs that much clothing do they?” He replied flatly. “I mean come on, you’re an Avenger now...You really think being a walking rainbow is really a good idea?” He added before retreating back into his room, the both of you now stewing in your anger for each other.
“At least I can hide who I am if I want to!” You snapped back. “Good luck going anywhere unnoticed with that arm!” You screamed at his door before slamming your own. Bucky’s back stiffened at the comment, his blood boiling as he suppressed the rage you just awoke in him.
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I had to get out a lot of feelings today. I feel like one of the biggest blessings I've had in my life lately (for the past five months now) has been stability, and that was such an important determining factor in a decision I made now about two months ago. Basically after a fight that started when I was venting my depressed feelings, I was pressured to decide whether I was still wanting to try a relationship again with someone, the idea came up of someone moving here where I am now, and after that fight, and really just the whole slew of triggering and degrading conversations, abusive texts, emails, etc. I'd endured in the previous months trying to reconnect to make up for my wrongs in the situation, I decided I wasn't really comfortable with thinking about that, and suddenly I was back on the defensive, which, just no. That made the decision that much easier. It's never okay for someone to use a "no" as a reason to go back on the attack.
It became very obvious that all they ever wanted was control. Since then I've gotten harassing, abusive emails threatening to do whatever it took to ruin my public life, and I have no idea what's gone on since and I still really don't care to know or involve myself in engaging with any of it, and just can't see it ever being the case that I would, or that it could be worth my time in any way. I feel like if I've learned anything from this particular experience of my life, it's that it's not as hard to tell when someone just wants control over you for their own reasons, whatever those reasons may be, as I tried to act like it was, I was just living a life in denial, making excuses for why it was okay for someone else to intentionally sabotage my mental health to the point of sabotaging my stability so many times, and for me to just forgive and forgive and keep taking it without a single sorry, a single acknowledgement.
Basically, I'm not into allowing myself to be provoked anymore. The truth is that if someone really loves you, ever really loved you, when things end, there eventually does come a point when, even if there ever was ugliness, call-outs, whatever it is, it stops. They stop trying to be right and start trying to figure out where they became wrong and fix it, or at the very least, the leave you alone. They stop breaking into what few safe spaces you have for yourself. They don't make it their mission to ruin your life, take everything you have when there's hardly anything left but the will to wake up and say "maybe life will be worth it if I just keep going."
They always had a safe space to go back to, I never had a safe space with them, or to retreat to. Only the barest of what was left of my mental health after the experiences of early 2016 to break over and over again, a process which started pretty immediately, and has basically only ended in the sense that I'm 'choosing not to engage with it, knowing that the only desire there is the desire to break me in every way they can, because they think that just because I let them so many times before means I'll just keep letting them.
Anyway, in new relationships, and living where I've been for 5 months, all I can say about where I am now is that I actually feel like I have a family for the first time in a long time, and unlike last time, in North Carolina, where I got drugged, beaten, raped, told it was punishment for my faults in my marriage, and left to die, it doesn't feel like an illusion. It doesn't feel like it's too good to be true.
There's no fighting, no intentional triggering, no one yelling in my face, laughing in faux disbelief while I cry and beg for space so I can break out of a dissociative self-harm fit and stop cutting until someone else has to literally physically pull them out of my space. There's no fear of the next time I'll get dragged into series of fights that keep me up for days at a time, until I can't even remember what bullshit trap started it. For five months, as long as I've followed my roommates' and therapist's advice of avoiding willfully subjecting myself to a blatantly toxic situation in denial of the obvious truth that no change would ever occur, I've known what it's like to be surrounded by NORMALCY.
I go to work, I come home, my primary treats me like a human being. Our roommates treat me like part of the family. We spend quality time together. We all have our limitations, we all work together to accomplish a functional life. I have an appointment scheduled for my vaginoplasty. I'm getting mental health care in the form of therapy and medication management. I'm finally managing to work through my trauma from 2016 and even before instead of letting it dominate my life. I'm getting to the point where actually putting up content might be possible again. Feeling like I have a voice to talk about important shit feels like it might be possible again. I don't feel the need to fear my partner, or that they've been grab some strand in the web of he said's and she said's. Some of the wires were harder to see at first, maybe some are still invisible even to people who've chosen to catch themselves up in it, but I know where it goes, where it came from, who's willing to say what to maintain the illusion, and who's not worth putting my own life on the line to pull out of it.
Basically all that matters now is that I'm done not listening to my intuitions, I'm done accepting anything less than a world where I'm treated like a human being and don't have to keep myself on guard against crazy-making, abuse, etc.
I'm done letting obsessive people weave their webs around me.
If you ever really loved someone, and you can't get over it, that's a reason to get mental help. If you let it drag you into a war with them, it was never really love. Finally accepting that perspective has empowered me to let go of the pain of wondering who's love was real or not, and even feeling so taken advantage of the times I fell into illusions. I can just accept that if they loved me, things would be different, accept that yes, I was hurt, yes, I was taken advantage of, in my gullibility, but that is in the past. I can make a choice to only accept love that is real. I can make a choice to never rely on anyone but myself to look out for me so that I can never fool myself into believing that fake love is real again just for a semblance of false safety.
A struggle on your own is better than the illusion of safety with someone else who might just be a bomb waiting to go off. I'd rather be free to do what I need to take care of myself, and my new partners, roommates, and friends than trap myself in a world of accepting empty actions that come with endless expectations and price-tags. Love is free, it doesn't come on terms of what's expected in return, especially ownership, and I have to accept how many times I've felt like I basically amounted to a thing that could be owned, bought, through kindness in the past. This is part of what I refuse to ever go back to, that, and the manufactured instability.
That being said, this is *NOT* a post for call-outs, this is *NOT* a post for name-calling, and I'm also absolutely not gonna tolerate people engaging with anyone trying to perpetuate some kind of war in any direction. Do I have things to say? Absolutely. Did I have my faults as well? Yes. I feel as though I've been quite clear to that end. I'm a human being.
So is anyone and everyone I've ever had to deal with violence, social or otherwise, or abuse from in any form. Where I mark the difference is that rarely, some of those people actually make right for it. That's basically happened once, and I dropped everything with it. Once, I've had a former abuser come back to me in order to apologize and make right for it. Every other time, they've chosen to start an obsessive war over my life, and I've basically had the choice to engage it, or ignore it, which I feel like they've taken as their ability to silence me, but I feel like it's possible to speak up about our lives and experiences without engaging in the toxicity, and that's important.
When I get back to content making, that is definitely something I plan to do, because if anything, the entire point of everything any of my abusers have said/done in the time since I escaped has been to try to silence me.
I've been thinking about call-out culture, and my own role in it, and realizing that the biggest disservice we do to ourselves in engaging in it is to give our abusers exactly the attention they want in order to twist whatever they want to the people who may be too close to, or too far from a situation. We allow our abusers to make our lives, our stories about them. We give them the attention they crave and feed off of.
I'm done with it. If I vague-post, it's because I refuse to hand my narrative over to people who only want to hurt me, drag me down, rob me of the life I already robbed myself of for 27 years. If I never speak an ex's name again, it's because I'm done making my life about them when they never deserved it,, and as someone with a long history of Stockholm's and silence in the face of abuse until it's "too late," there's really just not time to get caught up in the details of every minutia of every way anyone has ever chosen to hurt me anyway. That would be getting caught up in resentment, living in the past. I choose to live in the present for the sake of my own future. If other people want to live in the past, that's their choice, but I refuse to let them drag me there.
My life is important to talk about, and so I will, but I can do it without letting people who feel miserable just seeing me not suffering drag me to keep re-living parts of it that are already behind me.
I choose to be who I am today, and never let anyone take that from me again. I refuse to ever let anyone take the changes and growth I've been through from me again for their own twisted desire to make me who I *WAS*. I've been imperfect. I will never not be imperfect, but if I've left something behind me, I refuse to let anyone else shove it back onto me when it will only drag me back down. I choose to be more every day the person I was meant to be, and live the life I was meant to live, and abandon the shell I've outgrown, and used to call "me." I refuse to give my time to anything or anyone who would rather keep me there, whatever their reasons.
I've been a different woman every day since I've come out. Some changes were for the better, sometimes changes have dragged me down, been for the worse, but as change remains the only constant, I will endeavor to keep making it in positive directions. People who want to be a part of that can. People who want to relish in dwelling in the past for the sake of drama or whatever other reason aren't people I'm gonna shed a tear for missing.
Much as I hate to say it, coming out and facing immediate social violence taught me pretty quickly that there's no such thing as any amount of happiness, "good" feelings, etc. in the past of *any* relationship to make it worth carrying around and mourning when people show their true colors, buy into bullshit, etc. Sad as it is, to an extent, this is just a woman's life. Our lives have drama by default. Other women will use that to try to manipulate our lives, the lives around us, any way they can, other women will relish it, and non-women will fall for it every time, and that's just the way it is. So, people in my past can call me whatever they want, it'll never be anything that every other woman hasn't already been called before.
That doesn't mean I have to take it.
I have a stable life now, and I'll find my way to move that life to better places, and share the blessings along the way with the people I love. Sure, I'm sure there will be fights, bad days, nothing will ever be perfect, but it's gotten a lot easier to tell the difference between what's normal, and what's a whole armada of red flags. It's become easier to listen to my intuition and tell the desperate little girl inside full of learned helplessness to shut up, put on her big girl panties and stay away from ever letting that kind of bullshit pull me down into a prison of convenience and lying to myself again.
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wellhellotragic · 6 years
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If Looks Could Kill 4/27
Summary: Emma Swan is a dedicated FBI agent getting over a bad breakup. When she and her partner, Ruby Lucas, are forced to go undercover as contestants on a reality show, Emma is forced to try and win the affections of Killian Jones, a man she despises.
Killian Jones is a lost boy. Having recently been nicknamed the ‘Bad Boy of Boston,’ he’s been living up to his moniker using women and rum to avoid dealing with his dark past. When he’s forced to take the lead in a reality show, he encounters a gorgeous blonde who turns his world upside down.
Miss Congeniality meets The Bachelor
Rated: M for language, violence, and smut.
Catch up here: 1, 2, 3
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Killian didn’t make it to bed until almost three in the morning. After his encounter with Emma, he returned to find the production crew waiting for him. They insisted that he do his interviews that night while he was still dressed up and while all of the women were still fresh in his mind.
The truth though, was that Emma was right. Most of the women did blur together after the first five minutes of the evening. The only ones who really stuck out were the ones that were over the top inappropriate, like the girl from New Orleans who grabbed his butt talking about how he could give her some pointers on some sticky buns for her restaurant.
And then there was Emma. As soon as he laid his eyes on her he felt drawn to her by an invisible force. She wasn’t like the rest of them and he was entranced. She didn’t seem fazed by his fame or money, and their short conversation had been the most stimulating exchange he had had in months, years maybe, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that.
Their interaction that night had been brief, but he couldn’t help but think that maybe this whole experience wouldn’t be as horrible as he expected. Who knows, maybe the others would be less exasperating in a more intimate setting.
There was a special room set up near the front of the mansion with cameras and lighting already in position. David had him sit in a wingback chair near a roaring fireplace so they could adjust the lighting for filming.
Off to the side, out of the view of the camera, was a man named Sebastian. He was holding a stack of headshots to help Killian remember who each woman from that evening was. The interview consisted of asking the same question about every single contestant there. The network would choose four or five of his answers from that episode to run in the promo.
It took all of his strength to fake interest in any of it. He was supposed to be a guy looking for love and thrilled at the prospect of meeting his soul mate. In reality he was simply a heartbroken man who no longer believed in love, at least for him. When he lost Milah, he swore off relationships out of respect to her and what they had. No other woman would ever compare to her.
When the interviewer held up a portrait of the last woman, Emma Fowler, he couldn’t contain the grin that overtook his face. The interviewer not missing the first real bit of sincerity Killian had showed all night jumped, asking more questions about Emma than any of the other girls.
“So,” he started, “I’d ask if there were any women that might be front-runners at this point, but judging by the way you just lit up I think we have our answer. What is it about Emma that stuck out to you?”
Once the interviewer had asked the question, Killian realized what was happening. He felt an attraction for Emma that surpassed anything physical. Even after knowing her for only five minutes he could tell she was sharp and witty, and there had been something about her that shouted to him that she might even understand him. That she had experienced pain too. Those were dangerous thoughts though and he had to shut them down.
Emma could be a fun distraction while he was trapped filming the show, but it couldn’t go beyond that, wouldn’t go beyond that. He had already found and lost his true love, and would never be ready to move on; he could never disrespect what they had together.
“Um, I wouldn’t say there were any front-runners per say. I met the women briefly tonight but haven’t really had the chance to get to know them yet.”
He was coy for the rest of the interview, and when they finally wrapped, he was taken back to he guesthouse where he quickly passed out from exhaustion.
Emma barely slept. Images of Neal and his broken promises haunted her all night. It had taken Emma years to trust a man again, only to have that trust thrown back in her face. What she had with Neal was a lie, Walsh was a lie, and now whatever she was forced to forge with Killian was going to be a lie.
Killian was easier though. She wouldn’t get her heart broken this time because she wouldn’t let him in. Last night, telling him about the déjà vu theory was a fluke. She never meant to give him something so honest, but with everyone whispering in her ear to be nice to Killian it just slipped out.
Ruby had reminded her that there were eyes everywhere watching their every move, and she needed to stay in character, which meant playful banter with Killian.
Robin told her that despite all of Killian’s false bravado, he was actually a decent guy underneath it all. When Killian mentioned the odd feeling, Robin was certain that Killian had recognized her, while Will told her to distract him before he could put it together.
So many voices were swirling around and it was the first thought that came to mind. As soon as she said it all of the pain came flooding back and she cursed herself for allowing Neal into her thoughts, into her life. When he told her that he liked the idea, and that perhaps it meant he wasn’t as lost as he thought, she sensed sincerity in his words. In that moment he wasn’t the womanizing pig from the other night. He was just a handsome stranger sharing a meaningful conversation, and she felt a spark of something between them when she saw the way he looked at her.
No, Emma wouldn’t let another man into her life, as tempting as he may have been, even if it were only for a few months. It was safer that way. Of course, he probably hadn’t even given her a second thought after that. There were so many faces last night, he would never be able to pick her out of crowd, and that made her feel just a tiny bit better.
Emma got out of bed and tiptoed around the room trying not to wake Ruby. She changed into some workout gear and snuck her way of out the house. Typically the girls on the show were forced to remain in the house, only being allowed to leave for special occasions, and always under supervision.
Since Emma and Ruby weren’t actual contestants, they had a little more leniency, citing that they needed to keep up their physical activities and meet covertly with their team. They still had to keep it a secret from everyone so she and Ruby would have to be careful sneaking in and out of the house without anyone noticing.
Regina explained that by isolating the girls from the world, it would heighten their emotional responses, making them desperate for Killian, and therefore provide more entertainment. Ruby chimed in, adding that it meant more catfights, meltdowns, and ultimately more pinning for Killian.
Emma coined it for what it was, psychological torture. There were no phones or computers allowed. The girls only had each other for company, making male companionship all that more desirable. Remembering that she would have to compete in humiliating contests made her angrier.
The fury building up helped to push her through an extra two miles of her run. She had found a slightly overgrown trail that lead to some docks at the back of the property. There was a small boathouse at one end of the decking, but no boats moored. It was the perfect place to hide when everything became too much.
She sat on the end of the dock, letting her legs dangle over the edge almost able to dip her shoes into the water. She stayed there watching the sunrise. It would probably be the only relaxing time she would get for the rest of the day. The smell and sounds of the waves crashing against the bulkhead were intoxicating, and she had to summon all of her will to stand up. People would start waking up soon and she needed to get back before she was missed.
She stretched out the muscles that had stiffened before turning back, just in time to hear voices approaching.
She heard a female voice yell out, “Race you there,” followed by male laughter.
She looked around to see if there was another trail to take back but there wasn’t. Perhaps if she kept her head down he would be too entranced with his new running mate to notice her.
“Hey, fancy meeting you here.” It was Ruby, panting hard. Ruby had never been much of a runner. She preferred pilates and kickboxing. In fact she only ever ran in preparations for her annual physicals at the bureau.
“Emma?” Killian looked surprised.
Emma glanced between the two of them as they traded guilty glances, and a small ember of jealousy began to form. She suddenly understood why Ruby was so willing to make an exception to her running rule.
“I should have known you’d be out here when I saw your empty bed this morning,” Ruby said.
Killian did a double take between the two ladies. “Wait, are you two roommates?”
Emma didn’t answer so Ruby spoke up for her.
“Ya, she’s actually my best friend. I had to beg her to come with me so I wasn’t alone in this house with all of these crazy girls.”
He made a face as he looked at Emma. It was a face she has seen far too often on Neal. The guilt ridden ‘I’m sorry’ face, but I’m really only sorry that I got caught. Of course he was still just a guy, after anything with boobs. Of course she didn’t mean anything to him. Of course last night had just been part of the game.
Game. Face. On.
“Ya, sorry, I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you, but I’m about to head back so we won’t have to fight for the shower.” She didn’t even wait to see Ruby’s expression before turning back to trail and taking off, running as fast as she could, creating as much distance between them as possible.
As she was leaving she heard Ruby call after Killian, before he made some sort of joke about her trying to get him all hot and bothered.
She showered, changed into a sweatshirt and leggings, leaving her damp hair down to dry naturally making sure her ear com was well hidden, and went into the kitchen where she was met with the smell of fresh coffee. There where two women sitting at the bar with steaming mugs. She immediately recognized Elsa by her platinum blonde bun, but didn’t identify the girl next to her until she came around the island to grab herself a cup. It was Tamara.
Both ladies got quiet so Emma went into undercover mode.
“Looks like great minds thing alike,” she stated holding up her now full mug. Elsa and Tamara followed suit toasting their mugs in the air as well. Emma sat down across the island from them breathing in her coffee.
It was Tamara that finally broke the awkward silent standoff they seemed to have been having. “So, anyone have a clue what they’ve got in store for us today?”
“I overheard some of the production crew talking last night. I didn’t catch all of it, but they said something about making sure the kitchen was fully stocked for today. I guess we’re having a big group meal?” Elsa was taking animatedly with her heads, clearly proud of herself for having the inside scoop.
“Morning Swan,” Robin chirped merrily before Will chimed in. “Did you have lovely dreams about anyone.”
Emma grumbled to herself, but not quietly enough.
Tamara raised one eyebrow at her. “Ah, I get it. Group dates not your thing? Can’t wait to get him all alone?”
Maybe it was just Emma’s cynicism leaking through but she was sure Tamara’s words were searing with contempt.
Emma forced the corners of he mouth to tug up. “You caught me.”
Before she could say anything more she heard Ruby in her ear. “Emma, remember we need her to trust us. I’m on my way down.” Trust was a four-letter word. Like she trusted Ruby to have her back, before she saw her sneaking around with Killian that morning.
A pang of guilt washed over her. Deep down Emma knew that she could trust Ruby with anything, even her life. And as far as Killian went, he wasn’t hers. She didn’t even want him she reminded herself. Ruby was just doing her job, giving him a reason to keep her around, while also making sure Tamara wasn’t alone with him.
“Personally, I’d love to see a catfight. Maybe you could throw some pillows in while it’s still early and everyone’s in the nighties. Come on, Swan, you know you could take her.”
She heard a thumping noise followed by an “oi, wud ya do that for” and forced herself not to snicker.
Robin’s voice came over the line next. “Sorry, Swan, ignore him.”
As Ruby arrived she grabbed a glass and some orange juice from the fridge and settled on a bar stool next to Emma, before more girls started trickling downstairs.
Twenty minutes later Mary Margaret appeared. “Okay ladies, you have thirty minutes to get ready and meet back here in the kitchen. We’ll bring in Killian and he’ll explain what you’ll all be doing on your group dates today.”
She left as quickly as she disappeared and Emma found Ruby dragging her back upstairs. Ruby went to the closet and pulled out a sundress tossing it on Emma’s bed, turning back to grab some matching strappy wedges, before whirling back to grab an outfit for herself.
She instructed Emma to change into the dress as she did the same. Both Women did their hair and makeup in relative silence, which was unusual for them.
“Are we okay? Did I do something to upset you?” Ruby asked.
Emma shut her eyes and threw her head back.
“No, it’s not you. I’m just stressed and honestly I was a little surprised to see you two together this morning.” Thinking better of her words and not wanting to seem jealous she added, “and I just thought people weren’t supposed to see us outside of the house.”
“What is she talking about, Ruby?” Robin’s tone was oddly serious. “Ruby, I know you’re a little free-spirited with your sexuality, but please tell me you didn’t sleep with him last night.”
“What,” she shrieked. “No, of course not. God, Locksley, you’ve been spending way too much time trapped in that van with Scarlett.”
“Hey,” Will shouted. “I resemble that remark.”
“Guys,” Emma cried out exasperatedly. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just saw them out jogging this morning.”
“Ugh, this is a huge clusterfuck.” Ruby sighed and fell back on her bed. “I didn’t mean to go jogging. I was trying to get to the van and he was heading off to the trails. He asked what I was doing and then made a crude joke about me not needed to hunt him down. I couldn’t tell him where I was really going so I told him I was just going for a quick jog and he invited himself along. I wasn’t even wearing the right bra for it, and now ‘the girls’ are screaming at me.”
Killian was in a good mood, a rarity as of late. He had intended to sleep in given how late he went to bed, but he woke with the first bit of light streaming through the window. He assumed it was due to the lack of alcohol, his body wasn’t used to being sober anymore. Regina had left strict instructions with the wait staff and film crew that Killian was not to have more than two drinks that night. She didn’t want him making an ass of himself in front of millions of viewers and editing could only do so much.
He also found that he had a lot of nervous energy still surging through his system from the previous night and needed to burn some of it off. Noticing that there was no workout equipment in his guesthouse, he decided going for a run would be the only option.
He strapped on his sneakers and headed out. About half a mile down though, he spotted one of the girls from the night before sneaking around. She was obviously trying to accidentally run into him. As he came closer and got a better view of her face he realized who she was. He couldn’t remember her name, but he certainly remembered her occupation. She was the lingerie model, and she certainly had the curves for it.
“And where might we be off to this fine morning?”
She jumped. He really needed to remember to clear his throat or something to announce his presence.
“Um.” She bounced on her feet looking around. “Please don’t tell anyone since we’re not supposed to leave but I was getting restless and really just wanted to get in a jog.”
“Okay then, after you.” She hadn’t exactly invited him along, but the whole reason she was even there was for him so of course she’d love his company.
She didn’t say anything, just started jogging slowly, painfully slowly. They may as well have been walking the trail. His only consolation was the view of her assets jiggling around as she bounced from foot to foot.
When they finally made their way to the docks, clearly not as private of an area as he would have imagined, he was shocked to see the blonde goddess already there. He wanted to talk to her, but his workout partner beat him to it.
He looked over to the panting girl next to him and back to Emma. Her face warped almost immediately. Was she jealous? Surely not, after all, last night she made it clear that she wasn’t entirely invested in winning the competition, or at least that’s how she made it seem. Maybe she did care.
Crap. Not only were they roommates but they were best friends and Emma was there unwillingly. This would make things more challenging if he wanted anything to happen with either of them. While Emma had plagued his thoughts all morning, he had pushed that idea deep into the back of his mind. He couldn’t allow her to be special, not for Milah.
She left quickly without saying much and the brunette next to him seemed unphased. She knew Emma better than anyone, and if she didn’t seemed bothered, then it must have meant Emma wasn’t bothered by them being together either. Why did that upset him?
When he returned to his guesthouse after his jog Mary Margaret was waiting for him. She gave him the schedule for the day, instructing him not to eat too much for breakfast. She told him she’d be back for him before the hour was up so he should shower and she’d send over hair, makeup, and wardrobe.
It didn’t take nearly as long to get ready this time. The hair lady let him keep his hair in the messy style he loved, and his outfit was much more relaxed. He got to pick between three shades of jeans, and then was handed a blue button down to match, which the wardrobe guy insisted looked better with the sleeves rolled up. The makeup girl still lingered though.
When Mary Margaret returned, he was all ready to go. She brought him into the kitchen where all of the ladies were already waiting. He scanned the room and found Emma in a back corner, standing with the model from that morning. He made a mental note that he was really going to have to learn some names soon.
Mary Margaret turned everything over to him so he could explain the challenge.
“Okay ladies,” he started. “I think we’ve all heard the age old adage that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And we all know the whole reason we’re here is for one of you to try and win my heart.”
He could see all of ladies looking back and forth to each other nervously in anticipation.
“So with that in mind we’ve created your first challenge. This kitchen was fully stocked last night with all sorts of tasty ingredients.” He paused there to lick his lips per Mary Margaret’s instructions. “You’re challenge today is to create a dish that you think will amaze me, so I can get an idea of what it would be like to come home to you every day. You’ll have your choice of preparing an appetizer, main course dish, or dessert. You’ll break into three groups and each group will get a turn to impress me. The ladies who make the three least impressive dishes will be sent packing tonight.”
He turned to walk away so Mary Margaret could divide the girls into their groups. Just as he was about to leave the room he turned back and locked eyes with Emma.
“And ladies, don’t be afraid to, you know, really get in to it.” He winked and left.
The girls had been divided, Ruby, Emma, and Tamara all being in the last group. This way Emma and Ruby could keep an eye on her making sure she didn’t poison her dish somehow.
Emma found the entire thing degrading. The notion of a woman having to cook for a man to earn his affections was irritating and humiliating. It also didn’t help that Emma knew how to cook exactly three things.
Sensing her reluctance, Robin tried to give her an out. “Swan, we can walk you through a dish if you need. To be honest though, he really does prefer simple food.”
Emma whispered back under her breath that she was fine. She wasn’t going to put in a ton of effort, for him to only try two bites, especially since she knew she was already guaranteed to make it through the next round.
Emma settled on her most trusted dish, a grilled cheese sandwich. In an effort to look like she tried, she opted for some gouda cheese, sliced tomatoes, and a few basil leaves. Cooking it was easy enough, and soon she was helping Ruby frost some red velvet cupcakes.
Tamara seemed to struggle, clearly no better of a cook then Emma. By the time she was done she had flour all over her face and in her hair. When the time buzzer went off Killian returned.
Emma and Ruby had picked the two spots at the table furthest away from the door, making their dishes the last two of the day to be sampled.
As Killian made his way down the table he would either nod in acceptance, or grimace in horror. Most of the dishes seemed to agree with him, although one was burnt beyond recognition. When he got to the fifth contestant, the chef from New Orleans, he let out a moan signifying how good it was.
“You girls hear that?” Will asked. “That’s one of his sex noises.”
Both girls let out very unlady like snorts before Robin joined in.
“Don’t ask how I know this, but he’s absolutely right, although it’s more of a foreplay moan, his full on sex moans are much louder.”
Just then Killian moaned again and Emma and Ruby nearly fell on the ground laughing.
Everyone looked over to them with scowls on their faces, although Killian seemed more curious than anything.
“Are you two okay over there?”
“Um.” Both of them were still dying with laughter, but it was Ruby who found her voice first. “Sorry, she just made a dirty joke.” She paused looking a Emma, whose eyes blew wide knowing exactly what was coming. “About how you might sound in bed.”
All of the girls started giggling and Killian turned bright red.
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cottagecryptiid · 6 years
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all asks
cosmos: what’s one thing you wish you could say to someone you are no longer friends with?
i loved you and i will always love you but i’ve spent too long hurting to allow you to hurt me anymore. i hope you find happiness, even though it can’t be with me.
galaxies: what are three things you want to do before you die?
move out of the state, move out of the country, release an album
waxing: what is your proudest accomplishment?
repeatedly choosing myself over everything and leaving abusive relationships and environments time and time again
waning: what is your biggest regret?
i regret allowing certain people closer to me than they deserved to be.
full moon: what type of person do you hope to be?
the kind of person that emanates love and light, a person who heals and teaches and loves. one who lives what they teach
contemplation: if you could wake up one morning and everything in your life was perfect, what would that look like?
i’m living in a cottage in the mountains, i spend my time making art, meditating, smoking weed and loving up on the loml, i have all the tattoos and piercings i’ve ever wanted. i am healed, i am content
night light: who/what makes you feel safe?
rosie, the baseball bat that lives next to my bed
ponder: what do you want to do with your life?
to heal and learn and grow. make friends and help others along the way. and to enjoy it
sunset: who is someone you thought would be in your life forever, but you no longer talk to?
my mother
midnight: are you a different person late at night than in the early morning?
lol yes i’m always way more sad at night 
candle light: are you an indecisive person?
on occasion but i am definitely not the worst, my friends all suck at making decisions
reflection: have you ever changed something you liked about yourself to satisfy someone else?
absolutely. but never again
sweet dreams: are you happy?
i am happy. i still struggle with mental illness every day of my life and i don’t know if that will ever change but i am in a home full of people who respect and love me. i used to live in violence and chaos and pain, and i may still struggle, but at least i don’t struggle alone.
nightmare: what are you most afraid of?
turning out like my abusers. becoming close minded and refusing to learn
constellations: who is someone you could talk to for hours and never stop?
my best friends and roommates jakob, eddie, and mikayla
reminder: who is someone you will never forget?
laura christensen and anne martinez, my high school english and choir teachers (2 someones)
11-11: what’s something you want, but feel like you will never have?
answered!
shooting star: who is someone you trust to help you make the right decisions?
my old boss stephen! they have been my guiding light since graduating high school and i would probably be dead or shooting up under a bridge if i didn’t meet them when i did
earth: where do you feel most at home?
answered!
soothe: what’s one thing that always makes you feel better when you’re upset?
answered!
slumber: what’s one thing that helps you fall asleep when it feels impossible?
weed lol. or listening to a relaxing podcast/rain ambience
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