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#i have never felt like i belong anywhere and trying to explain that to people is so hard
em0-opossum · 11 months
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sick of people acting like being alone/lonely = being single. ofc you're allowed to feel like that, I'm aro and could not care less that I don't have a partner so I have no idea what it feels like to have that experience, but god just once I'd like to find poetry and art made by people who know how it feels to have no friends and feel lonely no matter how many people are around you and know that you don't belong no matter where you are
#I'm lucky enough to have two good friends right now who i love very much#but that doesn't mean that they understand how i feel or how i have felt#and knowing you're alone in that overbearing loneliness just alienates you more and further perpetuates the feeling#i still miss out on so many opportunities to be friends with people i genuinely want to be friends with so bad because i can't talk to them#i still get so paranoid sometimes and stop replying to anyone because I'm convinced they hate me and there's something wrong with me#sometimes to the point where i avoid teachers who i need to talk to because i am sure that everything i say will be wrong#even someone being nice can feel awful because i think that they just feel bad or are pretending and actually trying to make fun of me#i know nobody actually knows who i am or how i feel because i hide everything to fit in with people and what they need/want#i have never felt like i belong anywhere and trying to explain that to people is so hard#there are times i love being alone but knowing that I've missed out on every regular human experience is so isolating#i just want to be normal and have friends i love and hang out with and talk to and not feel like every word i say could be the end of me#and when i try to find anybody who relates all i get is “oh im alone again :(( being single is awful”#i really do empathize with those people but it is nothing like my experience of loneliness#(tags are just for finding people who relate)#social anxiety#avpd#avoidant personality disorder#actuallyavpd#loneliness#chronic loneliness
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senseless-writing · 2 years
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All Over Again
Pairing: Austin Butler x reader
Summary: It wasn’t Austin’s talent or looks that reminded Priscilla the most of her husband. It was his undeniable adoration for the woman he loved. 
Warnings: Painful reminiscing?
 A/N: This request smacked me in the face, and all of a sudden it was fully written! Love it when that happens. Also, I’m aware Priscilla never actually visited the set of “Elvis” (from what I gathered through interviews and such), so you’ll have to use a bit of imagination with this one. Hope you like it!
If you would like to be added to any of my tag lists (I’ve got a general tag list, along with specific ones for each fandom I’ve written for thus far), plz leave me a comment or ask and let me know which one!
Masterlist
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Priscilla was used to seeing her husband wherever she went. 
Not just in her daughter, or the grandchildren Lisa Marie gave her. There were so many other reminders. It seemed as if the whole world was as desperate as she was to fill the Elvis-sized whole in their hearts. She heard his voice over every loudspeaker, saw his eyes in every magazine, and felt his presence anywhere that reminded her of the things that brought him joy. 
It was lonely sometimes, being the only one who understood him in that way. Even lonelier once he left this Earth for good. But Priscilla was used to it by now, and even found solace in seeing parts of the heart she left behind still reflected in the world around her. 
So no, it didn’t surprise her to see Elvis in the eyes of another. 
However, she wasn’t so accustomed to seeing herself. 
At least, not in that way. Sure, people dressed up as her, which was always sort of awkwardly flattering. And once they started casting for the biopic surrounding her husband's life, Priscilla was shocked to meet someone like Olivia, who captured her essence to a tee. That was difficult to explain, and even more difficult to understand. But nothing compared to meeting Y/n. Or, rather, meeting Y/n with Austin. 
She first realized it at Graceland. It was the place where Priscilla felt the most safe, loved, and 100% connected to her husband. It was only right that this was where she would meet the people in charge of telling his story. She greeted them at the front of the house, and it was only then that she took note of someone new. 
“And you are?” she turned her gaze to the woman in between Baz and Austin. Surely this wasn’t Olivia? Priscilla had never been so forgetful with a face. 
The woman shuffled where she stood and fought the urge to duck her head. Priscilla then noticed Austin’s hand resting gently on her lower back.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Presley. I’m Y/n, Austin’s girlfriend, and a huge fan of your family and your husband's work. They said it would be okay if I tagged along for the tour.” 
Priscilla smiled warmly and took Y/n’s hands in her own. The poor girl was shaking like a leaf. The older woman knew what it was like to be dragged along by your star of a man to places you felt you didn’t belong, drowning underneath the pressure of trying to fit in. The sight was so symmetric, it almost froze her in her tracks. 
“Call me Priscilla, dear. And you are more than welcome here,” she lead them all inside. “That’s how he always wanted it to be.” 
While walking through the door to what used to be her home, Priscilla watched the couple with something new shining behind her eyes. 
No. Not something new. Something painfully familiar. Something she thought she’d lost forever. 
She watched as Austin leaned down, his lips brushing gently against Y/n’s ear. “I told you, baby. It all worked out just fine.” 
Y/n bashfully smiled and turned to tuck her face, warm with embarrassment, against his chest. In response, Austin chuckled to himself and wrapped her in his arms, rubbing up and down, before giving her one good squeeze and letting go. She seemed better, then. Calmer, even with uncertainty still simmering on her skin. 
It was such a senseless interaction. One of little import to everyone but the two of them. And yet, Priscilla felt as if time itself was rolling backwards.
Memories of her 22nd birthday flashed through her mind. Walking down the stairs hand in hand with her husband, tucking herself in his arms to hide from the overwhelming amount of gifts, candy, and love he showered her with. 
It wasn’t a private moment, not with the entire Memphis Mafia there to watch. And this moment between Austin and Y/n wasn’t any more personal. But that didn’t matter to either couple. Not then, and certainly not now. Love truly was strong enough to blind all. 
The trio continued their way through the home with Priscilla as their own personal tour guide. Truth be told, that wasn’t at all what she came here for. But after meeting Y/n, she was desperate to continue learning more about the girl from afar. Watching her and Austin walk through her home together, smiling and holding each other close, was horrifying and peaceful all at the same time. 
Once in the living room, Priscilla decided to fall back from the group, allowing them to observe everything on their own. Austin ran his fingers gently across the keys of the piano, a sound that sent a shock down the older woman’s spine. And Y/n, with special permission of course, had settled comfortably on the white, plush love-seat. Her bright eyes were wide while scanning the room around her, but fluttered shut with a blissful sigh after hearing the music Austin was producing. Priscilla watched in real time as the young girl's whole world centered, if only for a moment, around the man she loved. 
She remembered that feeling. She remembered fleeting moments of alone time with her husband, who despite all the fame, money, and screaming fans, found the most serenity sitting at this piano. 
“You hear that, ‘Cilla?” he’d call out after finishing a song, the final notes of a gospel tune still echoing on the walls. 
Her eyes would open to see his awe-filled expression. “Hm?”
“That’s God’s voice, honey.” 
And she would turn to look at him with stars in her eyes. “I just hear yours.” 
Something would always flicker behind his gaze, then. Understanding, with a twinge of pride. Or rather, pride bathed in humility. After years of watching Elvis search for truth in religious texts and songs, she knew this expression well. “Sometimes, baby, I think they’re one in the same.” 
“Y/n?” 
Austin’s voice broke Priscilla from her reverie. She could daydream all she wanted, but hearing Elvis’s voice, in her own home, coming from the body of another was something she would never get used to. 
He was no longer playing the piano. Instead, he’d moved to stand directly behind Y/n’s chair, and was squeezing her shoulders gently to grab her attention. His girlfriend tilted her head back and opened her eyes with a smile. 
“Hey,” she whispered up at him. 
Austin’s eyes were full of admiration. “Hey, baby. Where’d you go?” 
“I just love listening to you play. This house feels so…ethereal.” 
“Hm,” he hummed in agreement, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Let’s keep moving, yeah?” 
A quiet laugh fell from Y/n’s lips as she stood, accepting Austin’s hand and walking towards the next room. It was the kind of laugh where there wasn’t really anything funny, but joy was enough of a reason. Where happiness was a common occurrence, and blissful chuckles were the only way to truly express it. 
Oh, how it was to laugh because of love. Priscilla hadn’t realized how much she missed that. 
----------
She noticed it again during her visit to the set of the movie. 
Priscilla had been hesitant about visiting at first, what with the pandemic and all. And although she would never admit it to anyone, that wasn’t her only reason. She hadn’t yet decided how she felt about seeing her whole life be recreated for the big screen. 
But curiosity killed the cat. At the end of the day, the offer was too compelling to ignore. 
Olivia wasn’t there that day, which was both a blessing and a curse. Priscilla was certain that seeing a replica of herself from the ‘70s would be enough to scare her away for good. That time was…difficult. Still, that doesn’t mean a part of her wasn’t painfully interested. 
Despite it all, she was shocked to find herself enjoying her time on set. Everyone was so kind as Baz dragged her around, introducing her to them while explaining each intricate detail that went into telling her husband's story. 
God, seeing Austin in costume was something she truly wasn’t prepared for. It was like there was a ghost on set, smiling and charming the pants off everyone who dared to approach him. A sight straight out of the past, she was sure of it. Looking perfect in the ‘69 press conference outfit, Priscilla held back from walking up to him for fear of not knowing what to say. 
She just needed more time. 
It was a complete coincidence that Y/n was there as well. And again, Priscilla was overcome with the indescribable need to watch her. 
The girl sat in her boyfriend's chair, which said “Elvis” in big white letters on the back. Her legs were crossed, though she quickly uncrossed them, only to repeat the motion yet again. Clearly, she was nervous to be sitting there all alone. But before Priscilla could walk over and provide an easy distraction, Austin was already one step ahead. 
“Everything okay, darlin’?” he asked her in that voice that Priscilla knew so well. He placed either hand on the armrest of his chair, leaning forward until nothing else existed but the woman right in front of him. 
Y/n leaned back with an easy expression, nothing like how she looked only moments before. She was teasing, forcing him to come closer while her hands fiddled with the colored scarf around his neck. Her face was proof that she knew exactly what she was doing, and Austin ate it up. He was the moth to her flame. 
“All good here,” she reassured him. Her eyes ran up and down his towering form before meeting his gaze again with a knowing grin. “I think this one is definitely my favorite.” 
“Oh?” he mused. “This old thing?” 
“Never mind, I take it back.” 
Austin’s whole face shined when he smiled at her. “Nope! Too late, you already admitted to liking the look. No take backs!”
“It’s ‘cuz you look the most like yourself!” she protested with a groan. “I’ve seen you in fancy suits a hundred times. Sequined jumpsuits with capes, on the other hand…” 
“So you’re saying you wouldn’t mind if I grew out some sideburns?” 
Y/n’s expression fell to a deadpan. “Don’t you dare.” 
Austin’s laugh echoed across the room. His happiness was absolutely contagious, and anyone could see it. 
That was another thing the actor had in common with Priscilla’s husband. 
She watched him lean forward, whispering something in Y/n’s ear that Priscilla couldn’t hear. Her whole face relaxed into a gentle smile, her hands moving to the sides of his face to hold him close. When he was done, Austin pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, before leaving her to herself again. 
Priscilla was so caught in the moment, she didn't notice him making his way towards her until it was too late. 
“Priscilla,” he greeted her with a smile she’d seen a million times, but never on Austin’s face. “I’m so glad you were able to make it! How do you like everything so far?” 
She accepted the side hug he offered her. “I’m glad to be here. Though I must say, movie sets have changed so much over the past decades! I’m afraid I might get lost.” 
“Trust me, I feel the same way sometimes. You should see the ‘International’ set, it’s unbelievable.” 
Priscilla thought this man couldn’t possibly know how true that statement was. “Oh, that stage was…truly something special.” 
The conversation settled quietly after that, but it was a comfortable sort of silence. Priscilla wondered if the déjà vu would ever fade. 
“So you and Y/n,” she spoke after a moment. Austin’s gaze snapped to hers. “How long have you two been together?” 
His smile was so wide after just the mention of her name. “A little over a year.” 
“So it’s serious, then?” she mused with a knowing look. 
“Oh, definitely,” he answered quickly. “I…I really love her.” 
Austin shuffled awkwardly after the confession, and his eyes suddenly clouded with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, that was weird. You shouldn’t have to listen to me babble like a love sick puppy,” he chuckled. 
“No!” she reached out to rub his arm comfortingly. This may not be the man Priscilla loved, but it was someone who had dedicated the last three years of his life to honoring him. That automatically made him someone important to her. “Honestly, it’s a beautiful thing to love someone like that.” 
Priscilla hadn’t realized the confession was resting on the tip of her tongue until tears were welling in her eyes. 
“Priscilla?” Austin was immediately concerned. 
She shooed him away in an instant, clearing her throat before speaking. “I’m alright, dear. It’s just…” 
Priscilla swore it was her husband's eyes she was looking into at that moment. 
“...it’s just so nice to see that kind of love again.” 
Austin felt his whole chest cave in. With the breath suddenly knocked from his lungs, he wasn’t sure how to process what Priscilla had just admitted. Bringing Y/n here wasn’t meant to distress her in any way, and he felt horrible for whatever unwanted memories doing so might have brought up. 
And yet, he could see sentiment in her eyes. Austin knew she meant her confession in a good way. They were here to tell the story of her husband's life, and her own as an extension, so even Austin could admit he was proud to be able to reflect a piece of that in her eyes. But he hadn’t stopped to think about how it would make her feel. He was suddenly at a loss for words.
Priscilla noticed his spiral at once, and moved to hold his hands in her own. “Cherish it, Austin,” she spoke with the most serious tone he’d ever heard. “I mean that. Most people never find it for themselves.” 
Austin’s eyes were full of understanding. “I will.” 
But Priscilla wasn’t done. “Elvis and I,” she broke off with a sigh. “We made so many mistakes. So many.” 
Their relationship wasn’t perfect. Elvis wasn’t perfect, and Priscilla would no longer allow herself to believe in that delusion. 
Their life wasn’t perfect. But it had been their own. And in times like this one, she missed it more than anything. 
Priscilla squeezed Austin’s hands to emphasize her point. “I don't think things could have been any different for us,” she said without an ounce of regret in her voice. “But I hope they can be different for you.” 
Her smile reached her ears as she continued. “After this movie, everything is going to change for you. I just know it. But you need to prioritize this. What you have, right here, with that beautiful girl. Don’t ever let that change.” 
It was Austin, now, who had tears in his eyes. His mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the words to express the gratitude he felt towards her. But when Baz made the announcement that cameras were ready for shooting, he suddenly found himself out of time. 
“Go,” she urged him forward. “They’re ready for you, hun.” 
He shook his head, squeezed her hands, and smiled with his whole face. “Thank you, Priscilla. Just…thank you. For everything.”
Priscilla noticed his gaze sway to Y/n after walking away, even with his direction set towards all the cameras. She watched their eyes meet, and noticed the way they relaxed underneath each other's gaze. Two hearts, one soul, and a lifetime of love between them. 
Austin and Y/n were proof, if anything, that history has a way of repeating itself. At least, it was all the proof Priscilla needed. She could only hope her cautionary words were enough to break the cycle she and Elvis created all those years ago. 
And she hoped, more than anything, that this couple got the ending they deserved.
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bonezisded · 2 years
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hey! i saw your vance/requests post and was wondering if you’d write anything about him? if so, would it be cool if you could do something where he and the reader really don’t like each other but something happens to bring them together?
thank you ! :)
Why'd you do that?
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masterlist | navigation
requests are open !
summary: vance has always disliked you. you've always disliked him. but he had morals, and he wasn't that bad of a person.
vance hopper x gn!reader
word count: 1.4k
warnings: moose being an asshole and a creep, a crap ton of swear words,, ooc vance?? idk, maybe
a/n: im fr so sorry this took so long, i promise ill try and get the other one's out in a better timeframe
“here,” she started, as she walked towards her purse and shuffled through it, “i'll give you some money for you and your little friends so you can all get something from the gas station.” she pulled out her wallet and pulled out a $10 bill, “how does that sound?” she asked, as she smiled and handed it to you. her smile fell a bit when you said nothing.
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y'know, you had really wanted to stay home today, but "no, going outside and getting fresh air is good for you," is what your mother had said to you, and that was final. it wasn't like you hated going outside, and it wasn't even like you never went outside. you did! all the time! you were always out and about with robin and finney! which is why you didn't understand why she wanted you out so bad. but, when you had explained the bad feeling you had all morning, she sighed.
you playfully rolled you eyes with a heavy sigh leaving your lips. why not, y’know? hell, you’ll even surprise them! with that thought, you gave your mother a wide smile, “fine, but let me call finney and robin before i leave.”
-
you should have listened to your gut. when you called robin and finn, you told them to meet you at the spot you always met at in an hour - they both agreed. with that you took your longboard, keys, wallet with a new $10 bill - which was an absolute score, thanks ma - in it, you said goodbye to your mother and left.
when you got to the shop, you saw him at “his” pinball machine. now, you weren’t gonna lie, vance hopper was definitely the prettiest guy you’ve ever seen in your entire life, but you absolutely despised each other. when you had first gotten here 2 years ago, you had no idea who vance hopper was, or that the - horribly beat up - pinball machine in some random gas station belonged to him? and of course, the one time you decided to play, your brain decided that would be the day to beat a record on something. not just any record in fact, but vance fucking hopper’s high score on a game he absolutely loved. even while this was all true, you had to admit he had a pretty shitty high score.
when he eventually showed up, he was furious. and it only got worse when he tried to beat your ass for it and lost. can you believe that? he lost? vance hopper doesn’t lose.
either way, you both strayed away from each other, only ever sharing glaring looks, and mean words, but had never actually fist fought again.
when you walked in, the sound of the bell ringing caught a few people’s attention, their heads turning to look at who came in before looking away. you could see from the corner of your eye, there was a boy still staring at you. when you turned and saw who it was, you almost groaned. you knew moose had a little crush on you, and even though you had rejected him a multitude of times, he was always so persistent.
you rolled your eyes, deciding it would be better to walk past vance rather than be anywhere near moose. when you walked past vance, you could see the mass of his hair shift towards you to look at who was passing by, before you kept walking to the soda’s in the back. when you opened the door, you saw one of finney’s favorites on the top shelf. you tried to reach for it but it was just barely out of your reach. you felt someone’s presence behind you, and quickly turned around all while stepping to the side to get out from in front of whoever it was. upon seeing it was moose, you swear you could have vomited right then and there.
“the fuck do you want, moose? can’t you just leave me alone?” although you wanted to put as much distance between you two, there wasn’t anywhere else to go, so you stood your ground. and maybe it was just you, though, but was that vance fucking hopper staring at you two?
you watched as a sick smirk appeared on his face before he opened his mouth to speak, “just wanted to help someone pretty that’s in need,”
you grimaced, your face staying contorted in a scowl, “please just leave me alone, moose. i’m not in the mood to deal with you today,” you paused, before opening your mouth again, “lord knows how many times i’ve told you no.”
with that, you could see his face contort in a look of anger as his hand reached forward and grabbed your wrist, “can’t you just be grateful someone’s actually looking at you like you’re worth something?”
now, you’re not gonna lie here, you could definitely beat this ugly motherfuckers ass, however, you were awfully tired, and just didn’t have it in you to deal with it.
you attempted to tug your arm back, but his grip was firm - you would definitely have bruises later.
“let me go, you fucking coward,” you growled, but it only caused his grip to get firmer. he opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by someone shoving him off of you.
you watched in surprise - and slight horror - as vance fucking hopper shoved him off of you and onto the floor, before climbing on top of him and relentlessly beating the shit out of him.
“you fucking dickweed!” as he yelled, he grabbed the front of moose’s hair and slammed the back of his head into the ground repeatedly, “they said no!”
as you were watching in surprise, the sound of moose’s head being slammed into the floor made you come to and jump forward and yank vance off moose. he gave you a glare and opened his mouth to say something, but you just pulled him along, speedwalking to the exit - while passing the cashier that was still on the phone with the police - and kept pulling him down the block.
when you were finally a safe distance - where the cops wouldn’t bother looking for him - you turned to him, “thank you for helping with him, but why?”
he gave you an incredulous look, and you paused, before continuing, “i mean, why did you do that? what was the point? i know you like, hate me and everything, so i just don’t understand why you defended me.”
the look stayed in his face, but morphed into something more like, ‘are you fucking stupid?’
“i don’t ‘hate’ you, but why does it fucking matter,” he scoffed as he spoke, rethinking everything that happened only 15 minutes earlier, “my mom would have me fucking carcerated if she found out i let some bullshit like that happen right fuckin’ in front of me.”
you were stunned, looking down at your shoes digging into the dirt as you thought about the situation you just got yourself into. and, you know, any - normal, and good - person would be upset, and maybe, possibly, intervene, but vance hopper? and standing up for you, no less? so you said the only thing that came to mind,
“oh,”
he laughed. he laughed. “’oh?’ that’s all you have to say?” you looked up, seeing the amused smile on his face. you felt your face get warm immediately, and looked down again.
“well, i don’t know what else to say,” you laughed, (and he laughed a little too, but tried to cover it up with a cough) before continuing, “we’ve never really talked before this. well, like, talked, talked. i’m not sure what to do at this point,”
“well,” he cleared his throat, seemingly a little nervous now, “we could just like, fucking get to know each other, instead of saying we fuckin’ hate each other or some stupid shit like that every chance we fuckin’ get,” you giggled a little at the amount of swear words the boy could fit into one sentence, “sure, i think that sounds like a good,” you paused for a second, before smiling, ”fuckin idea, vance”
“you gotta walk me to meet up with finney and robin though,”
“oh, do i?”
“of course, as repayment for me saving you from the cops and cleaning up your knuckles.”
“my knuckles?”
“yup! you are coming with after all, right? and it would be unfortunate for this med kit in my bag to go to waste, wouldn't it?"
he smiled a little, “sure, why fuckin’ not?”
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grubbygrrrl · 1 month
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you know, once i was trying to explain to a white girl why i feel unsafe and ill at ease in a room full of white people, and i compared it to being in a room full of straight people. she’s queer, she’ll get it, right? it’s a bad comparison but at least it will help her empathize with the emotions — but she said that she’s never felt that, she’s never felt out of place or like she didn’t belong, anywhere, ever. and honestly i should have punched her, but also no wonder she’s so stupid. if u spend ur whole life comfortable and privileged and entitled and belonging u don’t learn SHIT. u never have to grapple with who u are in relation to anybody ONCE. u are never conscious of the world outside ur body, unlike the visibly othered who are always experiencing themselves through the eyes of another and are not permitted to stop thinking of others.
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wh0refornikolailantsov · 11 months
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Prompt:
'When I thought you'd died—'
'Don't say it.'
'No, I have to tell you. It was the first time—even after all these years of expecting my own death—that I truly knew what it meant to die. Because with you gone… there was nothing left for me to live for.'
Song: No Choir - Florence + The Machine
For Tolya x Reader please!!
Without You - Tolya Yul Bataar
Content Warnings: Canon Compliant Threat And Violence. No Beta/Proof Reading. Explicit Language.
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There was nothing but cold, nothing but dark, you hadn't exactly pictured The Fold to be any other way, but you'd also never imagined yourself inside it. You can't tell which way is what. You'd never wanted to be in this fight, you'd hoped you could just avoid it forever, that was your plan. But the best laid plans...
Tolya's voice had carried over the market stalls. You'd been looking for some herb you were low on, more looking for a reason to be out and about, keeping your mind busy with tasks. You can't remember now what you'd been so desperate to not think about, whatever it was it felt small now, and so far away.
Tolya had been recalling poetry from memory. It had been a verse from the Song of the Stag: "Let the hounds give chase, I don't fear death because I command it."
And that had been enough. You knew it would've sounded crazy saying it then, that even at that moment, when you first saw him across the crowds of people, you would've willingly followed him anywhere. But you would've. Instantly.
You in return started to recant poetry you knew, not loudly, not calling out into the crowd, but he had heard you, he turned towards you at the name "Kregi," and when his eyes had met yours for the very first time the smile that broke on his lips would've kept you frozen in time had he let it.
You were not one to believe in such fairy tales as love at first sight, but you were sure even then you would love him, if you didn't already.
You were right.
"Long may the night carry our souls until the dawn renews us," you tell yourself, as if it were a map to guide you home, to guide you back to him. Though, he and home are the same thing in the end.
Tolya had not wanted you here, he had asked you to stay and as much as you had wanted to, the safety, the security, the warm holding you back, to land, to the places in which the sunshine can reach. The pull of staying with him had been stronger. You would not stay if he had to leave, and he had to leave.
"I will not lose you," he had said.
"So you won't," you had insisted.
That felt childish now. A promise that you hadn't been able to make, that you doubted you could keep. You were not made for the fight, but you were not going to let Tolya leave you behind. And now instead, it might be you leaving him behind, and that burned a shearing pain into your chest. The fear of losing him had overridden all your fear of being lost, and you had imagined that specific pain in such clarity that it had gotten you to follow a mission that sent you into The Fold. Tolya had let you, not because he wanted to, by the Saint's he wanted you to stay safe, but he understood. He always understood. He knew he could not make you stay, just as you could not make him stay. You hadn't asked him, you hadn't wanted to watch him try to explain his loyalty, and the reasons he couldn't stay. His loyalty and his dedication were some of the things you loved about him, and you'd never expect him to stay from a fight because you asked him to.
You feel a tight grip on your shoulder and you feel the air being pulled from your lungs like it never belonged there, every nerve in your body is suddenly alight with this fear, this knowing fear. This is how you die.
You'd expected the grip to be sharper, more painful, you'd expected blood and the kind of agony that would tear a scream from depths you didn't think you had, but the grip is firm, but soft.
"Thank Saints," comes Tamar's voice. "You're okay, insane, but okay."
"I'm insane?" You ask as Tamar shoves one of her axes in your hand. "You're the one who literally jumped ship."
"I said I was a fighter, I never said I thought that far ahead," Tamar says. You knew that wasn't what it was about, Tamar had seen a Volcra grab a member of the crew and drag them off the side of the ship, she and Tolya followed quickly, and without thinking so had you. You'd gotten lost in the darkness almost immediately, and your common sense had flooded back into your body and called you a fucking idiot, which you admittedly deserved.
"I'm glad you're okay," you tell her, as she keeps her hand wrapped tight around your wrist, running through the darkness.
"We can hug about it later," Tamar says, "but I think Tolya might be first in line."
"Where is he?" you ask.
"He was looking for you."
"That's-," There's a screech so loud and so close you think your ears might bleed.
"Maybe now isn't the time," Tamar points out, "but we are nearly," she doesn't quite finish before the darkness around the two of you simply ceases, the change in density from the fog of The Fold makes you stumble as you reach the end. The light so bright you are temporarily blinded. Tamar keeps you steady as she catches her breath.
"I didn't think we were all going to make it out of that one," Sturmhond admits, leaning over the edge of the Hummingbird, now once again reunited with the Volkvolny. He grins down at the both of you, and that fox-like smirk is still not quite enough to stop you wanting to land a punch on him. "Good to see you both again."
"I am never doing that again," comes another voice that you cannot see. Tamar gives you a small smile before pulling her axe back from your hands.
"I don't know, a little danger, a little fun," she is trying to make you feel better, and maybe it would be working, if you could register what you were feeling. But nothing feels real, nothing feels... right.
Two large arms engulf you in a tight hug and just like that you're back in your body. "Tolya," you say, leaning back into the hug with all the force you can muster. "I am so glad you're okay."
"When I thought you'd died—" He turns you on your heels, looking down at you, and you've never seen such fear and relief in those shining eyes of his.
"Don't say it."
"No, I have to tell you. It was the first time—even after all these years of expecting my own death—that I truly knew what it meant to die. Because with you gone… there was nothing left for me to live for."
Tamar throws a small rock at him, but gives you a wink and pulls her way back up onto the Volkvolny. You're not sure what to say, your heart is in your throat and you still can't steady your breathing.
"Tolya," you manage in a half gasp. "I am so sorry."
"I have known loss," Tolya says, "but you are a loss I can never know."
"So you won't," you say. And the promise echoes. It's a promise that you know you should not make, a promise you do not know how to begin to keep. As he is a loss you cannot know, as well. But by the Saints, by the chances of fate and everything you know to be true, you will do everything you can to make sure he never has to lose you. "I promise."
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futurewriter2000 · 4 months
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The Daring, Forbidden and Evil - pt. 7
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A/N: Just so you know, the title will be explained soon. Don't think I lost my spark when it comes to evilness.
XX
Fred hasn't been sleeping well because of you. You had consumed his mind in every way possible. He didn't trust you and he felt it in his guts that something wasn't right. He knew George had a great sense for people. He had never once judged a person wrongly. He trusted George and he knew that his brother wouldn't make such a stupid mistake by dating you. Yet, everything inside of him fought this feeling of trust when it came to you.
He got off his bed, checked the clock that said it was still early 5 in the morning. He grabbed a package of cigarettes that he hid from everybody except George and he started walking down the stairs. He stopped at the sight of two people whispering. He retrieved his steps carefully and listened.
"It is not smart arguing with Sirius or the others!" the first voice whispered loudly, almost in a normal tone. He recognised it immediately. The voice belonged to you.
"Perhaps I should slither into this family, like you." he took a step closer- Snape it was. Fred could recognise his voice from another part of the world if he could. "I knew your parents, Miss Lestrange. I know of your past as well, don't think I didn't do my research." he started to warn you.
You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest and smiling wickedly. "I believe you did your research well. That's all you do- run errands for your beloved Dumbledore. You're nothing but an errand boy and you do not speak of my parents. You know what they are capable of, don't think I'm not either." you hissed back.
"They'll figure you out. As naive as they are, they aren't stupid." he growled before turning his back on you and leaving.
You only stood there, leaning back on glaring at Snape's back. With a second you turned around towards the staircase and looked up. "Don't think I don't know you're there, Fredrick." you said and Fred shut his eyes forcefully before appearing in front of you, an unfamilliar expression on his face; anger.
"I heard everything." he said, standing high up the staircase.
You haven't moved a muscle. "Yeah, so? I have nothing to hide from anybody." you said, glancing down at his hand that held the pack of cigarettes. "Unlike you." you smirked. "Do others know you smoke that shit?"
To be honest, Fred was a bit amused by your fierce and brutally honest character, so he made a few steps down and looked at you. "Do other's know you're best mates with Snape?"
"Snape and I go back." you said, taking the box from his hand and walking towards the petit window in the kitchen. "Got a lighter?"
"Obviously." he said, throwing one at you and you smiled, lighting one on fire.
"Not being full of age sucks, when you can't use magic to light the fire without the Ministry of Magic being on your ass." you smiled, giving him back his proprety.
"Does George know you smoke?" he asked, lighting his on fire.
"I don't smoke." you said, blowing out smoke. "I just light it up once every 6 months." you smiled, sitting up on the counter, trying to be as close to the window as you could. He joined you.
"What brings you to light one on this occasion?"
"Bonding with his best mate." you smiled but he only stared. "Don't think I don't care. I do care about George more than you think. This isn't a hoax or anything. Coming from an evil family doesn't bring you much peace later in life."
"Why didn't your name then? It'd make everything easier- even this."
"And lie? Where does keeping secrets bring you anywhere?" you eyed him, flicking away the ash from the tip of your cigarette. "My parents weren't evil when they had me. Mum was kind and loving- dad was even better. He had a great, calming energy. They faught but they loved each other." you continued, staring through the window. "Something in my mother just clicked and she changed- went mad." you paused. "She wasn't herself when she parted- my grandmother told me my father didn't want to stay with me because he loved her, took an oath or some shit. He even went to Azkaban for her and she just left me." you looked at him, his face hasn't changed a thing.
"Just because you're telling me this, doesn't mean I trust you any more than I did before."
"I'm not telling you this bullshit without a reason." you snapped back and he cracked a smirk. "I'm telling you this to let you know that I kept my last name because I'm proud of being a Lastrange before they went crazy. For me, they died the day they left me. My grandmother raised me just as such." you replied, threw the unfinished cigar through the window into the snow and jumped off the counter.
He only changed his sitting position and continued to pull in the tobacco. "And about Snape?"
"What about Snape?"
"He said something about your past."
"We all have a past, Fred."
"You said you didn't hide anything."
"It's not hidden, I just left it in France, buried there."
"It or him?"
You let out a laugh. "Him?"
"Her then?"
"What makes you think it's a person?"
He threw the cigarette through the window and jumped down. "You might be a great liar but you're not as great trickster as I am. I see through and through you, Lestrange. You come from the family of evil, don't believe I don't see those tricks up your sleeve."
You raised your eyebrows, amused. "Everything for your family, huh Fred?"
"Everything for yours, huh (y/n)?" he towered over you and you only stared up at him, your eyes flashing a bit of truth before hiding it back behind their colour.
That's surprising. You hadn't thought they would see it but one sure can. You'll have to fix that soon.
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missjanjie · 1 year
Text
100 Prompts #4
im so obsessed with seeing my other hundred prompt list being used so much, seeing what different people do with the same sentences is so cool! so, here’s another one! please send me a number + ship (au/trope where applicable)
“There is something profoundly wrong with you. I like it.” 
“It’s okay to be wrong sometimes.”
“Pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“A candlelit dinner? Okay, what did you do?”
“Don’t fucking start with me.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m not dying, at least.” 
“I chose you. I’ll always choose you.”
“That kid is too cute to be yours.”
“What the hell happened here?”
“It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“I don’t need to be saved.”
“Just shut up and listen.”
“It’s nice to feel wanted for once.”
“I could be perfect for you.” 
“You have to stop working so hard.”
“I’m on the verge of breaking down!” 
“Only you could make me swoon at something so corny.”
“I just wanna sleep.” 
“Can you ever forgive me?”
“Things are gonna get better, I promise.”
“You’re such a lightweight, it’s adorable.”
“This thing has been following me everywhere.”
“That can’t be healthy.”
“Where am I? Why are we naked?” 
“I made this for you.” 
“Oh my god, I’ve been so stupid.”
“That shouldn’t be arousing, and yet…”
“You didn’t really think I’d forget, did you?”
“Please don’t leave.”
“I can’t believe you actually did that.”
“Oh, you’re drunk drunk.”
“I wasn’t staring at your ass! I mean… I was, but I was trying to be subtle.”
“You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“At least you’re pretty.”
“When did that happen?”
“You sure know how to keep me on my toes.”
“There’s something I should’ve told you.”
“You’re too good to be in a place like this.”
“I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“That face won’t work on me, babe.” 
“You did all of this for me?” 
“I’m not saying making out would help, but it couldn’t hurt.” 
“You are exhausting sometimes.” 
“You little brat.”
“I want to be there so you don’t have to be brave.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“I am giving you one chance to explain yourself.”
“Wow, I’ve never been anywhere so fancy.”
“C’mon, live a little.”
“I have to go.”
“I can’t look at you, it’s like staring into the sun.”
“Don’t touch me!”
“Pack a bag, let’s get out of here.”
“I don’t belong here.”
“Sorry, I think I’m lost.”
“I’m in love with you.”
“Damn, when did you get hot?”
“I miss what we used to be.”
“You don’t have to say you love me.”
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
“No one's gonna hurt you while I’m around.”
“You’re a mess, come inside.”
“I thought I knew what falling in love felt like before I met you.”
“It’s all coming back to me now.”
“I just… I couldn’t do it.” 
“Listen, I love Britney Spears as much as the next person, but we have to put a curfew on your singing along.” 
“I don’t have anything figured out.” 
“Take a chance on me.” 
“How long have you been there?”
“I think I’m finally ready for love.” 
“Maybe in another life, we would’ve been perfect together.”
“I can’t explain all the things you make me feel.”
“You look familiar.”
“I hate how lonely I’ve become.”
“Come a little closer, baby.” 
“I’ll wait for you, I always do.”
“There is a completely normal explanation for this, I swear.” 
“It’s too early for this shit.” 
“I don’t wanna talk.” 
“You’re the most important thing in my life.” 
“What are you staring at?”
“By the way, you were my first.”
“You knew I loved you.”
“I realized I was trying to make my life into a movie, but the story continues after the happy ending.” 
“So all of this meant nothing to you?” 
“I plead the fifth.”
“You have no idea how badly I need you.” 
“I didn’t think it would get this bad.” 
“Hey. Turn around.” 
“Um, sorry about your friend.”
“Can I make it up to you?”
“This just doesn’t feel right.”
“I just want a fairytale ending after everything I’ve been through.” 
“Take care of yourself.”
“Could you relax for like, five minutes? For once?” 
“I… wow, you look incredible.” 
“Let’s go back to my place.” 
“I’m not high enough for this.” 
“Why do you hate me?” 
“Fuck this, I’m out.”
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nerves-nebula · 2 months
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k im gonna be in my feelings about my race again so here we go
i sometimes worry that the way my mom raised me has made me permanently cut off from other black people, because she never seriously called us black. she was racist about a lot of stuff but she specifically insisted that if we wrote our race down on a form we would check both black and white, or just "other", or black, white, AND other.
i've talked about this before but i never referred to myself as black until i was about 15, maybe 16, so for the majority of my life i wasn't black i was just "mixed" and black americans were a group of people neither my mom nor my dad wanted me to be.
i still remember sitting in the gym and hearing some guy trying to tell his friend where he'd put his backpack or something, and he'd said it was next to "the black girl with long hair" and his friend stopped by ME and looked back for confirmation, before his friend told him he meant the other one further down. and idk how to explain this feeling.
cuz like, i was homeschooled, so i didnt even have the chance for other people to call me black. i only met the people my mom wanted me to meet until high school. ironically, it felt kind of like passing, which is absurd for two reasons:
the history of the word "passing" originates from (i believe, though i might be remembering wrong) black people who could "pass" as white deciding to do that and disengage from identifying as black. so the fact that i'm referring to it but like positively and in reference to how it feels as a trans person to get gendered correctly is kind of funny.
i am literally black. im not even so light skin/white featured that i could be mistaken for white i am LITERALLY VISIBLY A BLACK PERSON my dad is from NIGERIA
and yet!! i was relieved that someone else called me one unprompted because i was and still am sort of afraid that everyone else can tell i am Not Like Them. that i was raised to think i'm not like them. that i'm not Really Black, that I'm new at this cuz i only started calling myself black a few years ago. i know that my experiences are black american experiences because i'm a black american but i just. i worry that the opportunity to be a part of a black community will never happen!!!
but then i see my siblings. my younger brother is fully culturally a black american. he did a lot of sports growing up so he picked up a lot of black american subculture from the other kids there, and my oldest sister is getting more in touch with black communities too. they're like an activist and do politics and shit. i'm not sure what it is i need to do but i can see that it's possible i just need to fuckin!! talk to more black people!! go to black events!! but i can't because i'm an agoraphobic freak that doesn't go anywhere i don't HAVE to go!! and i feel like i don't belong with black people because i've had it drilled into me by my mom that i'm not one of them and i'm not black enough and it's laughable to call myself black.
but im not even sure if i can vent to black people about this cuz it sounds like i'm whining about having to be black or something that isnt a real problem but it really fucks with me sometimes it's like fucking race dysphoria or something (can't think of a better word for it sorry)
anyway the point is i'm fine i'll figure it out. i just need to keep trying. i try to find black people online and become painfully aware of the fact that i don't know how to find them and just have to keep searching shit like #black queer or #black artist until i find some ppl i wanna follow.
special circle in hell for ppl who give their kids racial complexes.
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leggerefiore · 2 years
Note
Hi! So i know about your runaway au for the subway twins but do you have any headcanons for a situation where the entire scenario is reversed? Like for example s/o escapes a yandere!Raihan and ends up taking shelter and falling for one or both of the subway bosses? Just curious
cw: yandere but not from twins
▲Ingo▼
● You couldn't recall the amount of time that had been spent hidden away in the shady house in Po Town. Guzma was a fun, loving guy at first. You thought he was easy-going and sweet, but a certain possessiveness overtook him. You weren't allowed to go anywhere without the Team Skull Boss at your side. That wasn't enough when people kept trying to talk with you, it caused him to snap and demand they leave you alone. It got even more worse when he locked you away in his bedroom with some grunts on guard to stop any attempts at leaving. Eventually, however, you managed to escape with the aid of Nanu, who took some pity on you.
● You got the hell out of Alola immediately after and disappeared into some big metropolitan area of another region. Nimbasa in Unova proved itself a different scene from anywhere in Alola. You managed to achieve of job as a secretary in the Gear Station. Working directly under the Subway Bosses, you felt safe. It was highly unlikely that Guzma would ever find you, but extra protection never hurt.
● You grew close to Ingo, finding his caring nature something sweet. He would always worry about others yet disregard his own health. You took it upon yourself to help him along, bringing him lunches, lessening his load of paperwork, and nagging him when he clearly didn't get enough sleep. Naturally, Ingo couldn't resist the kindness you offered him. It wasn't long until you found yourself going on dates with him. Hesitantly, you started dating him, afraid that he may suddenly turn into whatever had become of Guzma.
● He never did. His love was patient and kind, keeping itself a soft touch and complete trust in you. Ingo was completely understanding when you explained what had happened in your past. His brows furrowed, and he gently took hold of your hand. “I promise you, my dear, that I would never do any such thing to you,” he stared adoringly into your eyes, “Should he even attempt to harm you again, I shall handle it to the best of my capabilities.” Your heart was overcome with affection to this seemingly perfect man.
● You had moved in with him soon into your relationship. Ingo was a wonderful boyfriend who showered you in affection and adoration. All you ever received were praises and declarations of love. It was so incredible to find yourself content with someone who respected your autonomy. Of course, Elesa, a dear friend of Ingo's and yours, decided to snap a photo of you and him handling another friend's baby. “I think a certain Subway Boss was baby fever🥰🥰🥰” was the caption, and it went viral almost instantly. Guzma spotted it. He was passed.
● It was terrifying as your arm was grabbed on your way to hand Emmet some important documents. The man of your nightmares stood before you, rage written across his face. “Babe… There you are. You had me worried sick,” he pulled you close to him, your body frozen in terror, “That bitchass guy you are with. All this work to make me jealous, huh? Big bad Guzma's gonna have to remind ya who you belong to.” You screamed. Pedestrians stopped around you and looked confused.  A few depot agents shouted demands for you to be let go of. Guzma growled, moving a hand to free his Golisopod.
● “Let them go!” A loud voice boomed across the station, making the delinquent flinch. It was just enough to get out of his grip and dip toward the person who had yelled. Ingo, your dear Ingo would save you. The Subway Boss's arms came around you as you buried your face into his neck, shaking in terror. Guzma stared at the scene with a growl. “I ain't giving up that easily!” He called out and tossed his Scizor. Ingo glared and tossed out his Chandelure, securing your safety behind him. This was a distraction until Emmet arrived.
● The battle was a furious one, Guzma desperately trying to defeat the older twin for a momentary chance at regaining you. You was his. Nothing more; nothing less. Ingo refused to give someone who caused you such pain a centimetre. Emmet rushes over and pulls you away, tucking you into their office with the door locked. “I have called the police. We will help you secure your safety,” Emmet explained, looking at his watch. “Are you hurt?” You shook your head. Tears welled in your eyes at the realisation you had such caring people around you. Emmet was pulled in for a long a hug. He wrapped his arms around you and cooed.
● Ingo emerged with a policeman soon after. You were dragged into an afternoon of testimonies and evidence of abuse before finally being released again back to Ingo. The older twin took off early to spend the rest of the day with you. In your apartment, gently embraced in his arms, you felt truly safe. Ingo would protect you just as he promised. You rubbed your nose against his and thanked him more than necessary. He kissed you gently and shook his head. “Never will I allow you to face such pain again,” his hand cupped your cheek, “I will always be here for you.”
▽Emmet△
○ Leon loved you dearly. That was why he locked you away in his Wyndon flat. His fans had harassed you one too many times, a guy had given you too much attention for his comfort, and he just couldn't stop worrying about you. It was safest for you to stay in the apartment. You could have visitors! His brother, Sonia and Raihan all came around somewhat regularly. No one questioned why you never went outside. Leon was never terrible to you, he was kind and loving, just too protective. It was one night, as you laid beside him, he began wondering if a family could be a good idea. It sent disgusting shivers down your spine. You escaped on a whim and left Galar without hesitation.
○ Nimbasa was an easy place to lose yourself in the crowd and forget everything. A job as a barista in a battle café proved a decent paying job that didn't bring much attention to you. News reports about the poor Galarian's missing partner echoing from different screens. You dedicated yourself to your job. A certain regular caught your attention easily. His skills as a trainer were impeccable, and there was only one time you had managed to beat him. Flirting with him, you discovered the was receptive.
○ Emmet was quick to take you on dates around the city, showing you all the fun spots. It was so different from your relationship with Leon that you found yourself entranced. Quickly, he became your boyfriend. His giggly and passionate nature was something you found adorable. He may act childish, but he knew when to be mature. Whatever had happened to Leon seemed impossible to happen with Emmet. You trusted yourself in his capable hands.
○ He did sit you down and carefully ask whether you were the missing partner of Leon. You became nervous, which Emmet immediately picked up on. His arms came around his, and he hushed you gently. Panicked tears fell from your eyes as you hiccuped loudly. You begged for him not to return you to him. Emmet shook his head. He would never. Especially not when it caused you to act like this. You tell the younger twin of what Leon had done to you. A deep sickness settled into his stomach. “Darling, I would never do vile things to you,” his chrome eyes carefully peered into your own, “If you worry about him hurting, I will keep you safe. I love you verrrry much!”
○ Naturally, Elesa took many photos of you two as she often accompanied you both during your outings. A specific date of you both eating some shaved ice on the beach of Undella during a weekend vacation was posted to her account. You had accidentally spilt your bright red ice all over Emmet's white swim trunks. You were aggressively trying to wipe it off, but it was far too late. A picture was snapped at an awkward moment, and she couldn't resist mocking you both. “What are they doing on the beach😨😨😨” was the caption for the post. Leon's fans instantly recognised you and tagged him over and over again. He was in tears at the sight of you. You were alive! Why had you left him? He knew that trainer you were with, too.
○ It was strange to have the champion of Galar barge into your small, local battle café while you served your boyfriend some requested bakewell tart. Leon stared at you with an open mouth before tears welled in his eyes. “Love… My love, you're alright! I was so worried for you! You just vanished one day…” he took careful steps toward you. Emmet hopped up from his chair and moved to intercept his path. The younger Subway Boss shook his head aggressively.
○ “No! You do not!” the younger twin shouted out, “I am Emmet, and I am their boyfriend. You will not cause them any more pain!” His arms were spread wide and a few Joltiks scurried from him to you, ready to help their adoptive father protect you. Elesa, who had been sitting with Emmet stood up. Leon flinched at his words. “W-what do you mean? They are my partner, before they left we were discussing children. That Charizard on their team is a gift from me!”
○ “Well, their Galvantula was a gift from me!” Emmet snapped, hand moving to his pokeball. Elesa intervened and cleared her throat. “Leon… You care dearly for your reputation, right?” she asked, strutting to block Emmet from tackling him, “Well, how would you feel if I uploaded a video of them and me talking about their relationship with you? Do you think Iris would like that? How about your brother? Please, just leave. They're happier here with Emmet. He loves them healthily, unlike you.” Leon flinched at the mention of his cousin and younger brother. His gold eyes travelled to you, seeing Emmet wrapping himself around you protectively, with an Eelektross standing guard close by. This was a rare loss from the champion. He left. He wasn't giving up, however. He needed a better location.
○ You nearly collapsed into Emmet's arms, weeping loudly. Your boss let you off early, and Emmet took off as well. Ingo was very understanding of the situation. The younger twin curled himself around you while all his pokemon were out and on alert. He knew this was far from over, and you knew it too. Though, as the warmth of his body settled into your own, you knew he would keep you safe. Emmet would never allow the same fate to befall you twice. Gentle kisses were peppered up your neck while he murmured loving phrases. “I will keep you safe,” he reassured you, “I won't let anyone ever lock you away like that again. I love you too much.”
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furiousgoldfish · 1 year
Note
Happy birthday!! Hope it's okay!
I've read your article about how school bullying follows up child abuse and how child abuse creates the risk of abuse in the future, and I wanted to ask something. Idk how and why but child abuse and school bullying were two different, separate things for me 🤨 like I felt that my first experience of being bullied was in high school. It wan't the same and 'nothing uncommon'. I felt devastated like it was the first time ever I was treated like that. Maybe child abuse just has made me sensitive to others' judgement and to how people percieve me? Like the only truth about who I actually am, is in how others see me. What do you think?
Yeah, it can definitely make you more sensitive to judgment!
I don't know if I can explain this well, but this is something that can happen when you're abused at home, but usually feel safe in public areas: you develop 2 types of behaviour, almost like two personalities, one for home, and another one for public. It also changes how you feel about yourself at home, and how you feel about yourself in public, surrounded by other people. At home you're constantly aware that you're not valuable, that you're despised, that you can be hurt at any moment, and that you're disposable. But with friends and in public social setting, you can feel welcome, valuable, like you fit in.
Then, you have to base your self worth choosing from these two settings; if you're well received in public and amongst your peers, you can decide that well, parents must have been wrong about you, because all of these other people like you just fine and want your around, so your parents obviously don't know shit about you and can go to hell with their dumb opinions. You embrace your image of yourself of a person beloved by your friends and you hold onto that in order to survive the hateful ordeal you have to endure at home, knowing it is undeserved and that you're not all that awful things your parents say you are.
But, deep inside you're still scared that your parents might be right. Because they knew you first, and they knew you the longest, and they watched you grow, and their words are etched into your brain. So you're always careful and looking for warning signs that other people might develop these negative opinions of you as well, it's never a truly 'safe' situation, as long as there are people like your parents claiming confidently that you're nothing but a burden or a waste of space.
So then, when you're clinging to this hope that people in your peer setting will view you in a more favorable way, and then you end up abused in that setting too - that's when your entire view of yourself can crash. Because you just received a confirmation that even people who are not your parents, see you as nothing but a target, someone who is acceptable to hurt and harass and nobody will find you worth protecting and saving. It's absolutely devastating, and it can make you question yourself very deeply on how are you perceived and what is your true identity, if everyone around you is okay with you being abused? It's extremely painful, and very cruel for an abused kid to be given a little hope of normalcy, and then to have it yanked away like that, by some kids who don't even know what they're doing or who they're hurting, they're just in for lashing out at someone vulnerable and unprotected.
I only realized way later that bullying had this same negative impact on my self-worth, even if I didn't know it at the time, because bullies just weren't as violent as my parents, so I didn't need to take them as seriously. But they did mean that I was seen as nothing but a target both at home and social setting, and it did manage to isolate me even more, and make me even more certain that I am not a part of society, and will only be hurt and rejected if I ever try to belong anywhere. It is a very painful thing to be put thru.
So in conclusion, yes, abuse makes you extremely sensitive to how you're perceived in public, because your self-perception has already been challenged and weakened by the trolls that live in your home so having the outside world affirming their stance is devastating.
In the contrast to this, not being abused at home can make your self-perception positive enough, that when you're bullied at school, you're aware that these bullies are the only source in your life who find you an acceptable target and that you will be seen differently, and accepted in all other areas of your life. It's still a crisis in not managing to belong with your peers and being seen as an acceptable target in a social setting, and sometimes pride or shame can stop a person from even confiding in their parents about it, but it shouldn't completely crash their self-perception, like it would happen for an abused kid. (I am speaking here just hypothetically, I might be wrong about this, I don't actually know for sure how non-abused children deal with bullying other than what I've seen in tv shows)
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People who are used to being thought of as “normal” often glamourize “not normal.”
“It must be so freeing.”
“I love how your brain works.”
“That’s so cool, I wish I could do that.”
You don’t understand. People have been telling me I’m “not normal” since I was born.
I’m multiracial, so right off the bat, I was different from the other kids. No matter where I was. I’m a foreigner in every country. I don’t belong anywhere.
“Yeah, but you’re special! You stand out!”
Do you know how exhausting it is to stand out every time you leave your house? Do you know how many times strangers have demanded to know why I look different? And do you know how much it sucks to constantly be praised for being able to speak my first language?
All throughout my school years, teachers told my parents I was different. I was highly gifted, unusually intelligent, full of potential. When I took math tests and had to show my work, my math teachers would be dumbfounded because I solved problems in my own ways, completely differently from what they taught us. On standardized tests, I was always in the 99th percentile. Classmates would submit their homework to me to get it checked before submitting it to our teachers. I was called a walking encyclopedia, a cyborg, and even a term that basically meant “mafia lieutenant.” I was regularly discounted from class surveys for being an anomaly and teachers told students not to compare themselves to me because I “didn’t count.” Everyone in my life defined me by how “not normal” I was.
That prompted the masking. I spent years and years desperately trying to hide my authentic self. I manufactured my outward appearance by scripting what I would say, rehearsing my behaviour, and actively suppressing the most objectionable aspects of my individuality. But every time I got comfortable around someone and let bits of my true self show, I was seen as a novelty. At best, I felt like a museum exhibit. At worst, I felt like a shackled circus sideshow. I was never just another person. No one felt the need to recognize my humanity.
Over the last few years, I’ve been fighting hard to undo the damage of masking for so long. I have friends who accept me for who I am, even if they don’t quite understand. I’ve had romantic relationships, and a few people have even been in love with me. I’m still “not normal,” though, and thought it would always be that way.
Then something happened. I met someone, someone who identifies as “normal,” and seems it, at first. But I started noticing something bizarre. He can finish my sentences. He isn’t surprised or caught off-guard by me. I’ve never had to explain my thought process to him. My own mother has to ask me what I’m talking about all the time, but he just gets it. He’s never called me “special.” He doesn’t laugh at the way I act. He doesn’t point out when I do something others would think of as outrageous. And, for the first time in my life, I get to feel “normal.”
Imagine living your entire life breathing smog and secondhand smoke. Then one day, someone drives you up to the mountains in the middle of nowhere and you breathe fresh air for the first time. Your reaction is probably along the lines of:
“What the FUCK is this? Do other people know about this?? …They do? …Wait, some people get to experience this all the time?”
You find out not only that there are people who have never had to breathe smog, but that you were missing out on fresh air without even knowing it.
He’s my fresh air.
Unfortunately, he’s not interested in me, so my lungs are still full of smog.
But why, you ask, does feeling “normal” feel good?
Being “not normal” means you are constantly justifying, rationalizing, defending, and explaining yourself.
I just want to breathe.
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last week i told my therapist that i think i'm aroace. i haven't used these exact terms but i described how i feel, and it was the first time i talked about it with someone. the only friend that i talk to about these things only knows that i'm questioning. it felt good and she didn't make me feel uncomfortable or judged. talking about it, explaining it was easier than i thought and i'm really happy that i did it, but it still feels weird to think about using labels. i wish i were one of those people that feels 100% sure of who they are and can live confidently in lgbt+ spaces. i can't seem to be able to do that and i end up feeling like i don't belong anywhere. i feel like i would owe people a convincing enough explanation as to why i'm there when i don't feel comfortable sharing what i think are very private feelings and thoughts. like, i wish to connect with people with my same experience but i never want to talk about my experience because i'm a very private person and i generally don't like people knowing my business. 😅 but i guess i'd like to try and open up more, online at least, and i was wondering if you know of any aspec community spaces online, even outside of tumblr? thank you so much.
Congrats on making that step, Anon. Being more confident with your identity, with using labels, and being more open are all a process. It can take work, but it can get easier too.
For online communities, you can find ace/aro themed servers on Discord by searching Disboard, and I'd recommend trying a few out, and if a server isn't a good fit for you, don't be afraid to move on.
There's Arocalypse, which is an aro-themed forum.
I know Pillowfort has a large ace population at lesat and a few ace/aro themed communities around. And they have open signups now, there's a wait-list but my understanding is that wait-list is very short.
All the best, Anon! Good luck!
I'll ask followers too, does anyone else know any online ace/aro communities they can recommend?
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vixovavalentine · 1 year
Text
Entombed (Part 3)
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REMINDER: I DO NOT OWN JJK OR ANY CHARACTERS OR ART OR ANYTHING.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Self Doubt/Depression
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"Urghhh..." You Groaned loudly. Before you could even open your eyes, you felt twinges of pain scattered throughout your body. Some of the worst pain you've ever felt in your life. Literally feeling like you'd been hit by a Semi Truck. With hot palpitations of pain in your arms and hands serving as a reminder of what had happened. The curse, Nanami calling to you. You remembered everything and yet, as you tried to replay it in your mind. All you could really focus on was evil mischievous face of the curse. Was this it? You wondered silently. Was this the life? The life of a hero you had wanted so badly. You didn't realize it at first, but you should have taken Nanami's words more seriously. Everyone else's cheerful demeanor seemed almost like a betrayal to you as you laid there feeling the stinging vibrations over and over again. You wanted to cry. This wasn't anywhere near what you had expected and to be honest, you'd be lying if you said you had wanted to try again. The fear and the pain. It shook your resolve to your core.
Slowly opening your eyes you took in your surroundings. You'd been placed in a small room with a bed, a window, and a machine next to you. Where you in the hospital? It looked almost too plain to be one. No charts hung from the bed you laid on, but you did notice. Hanging at the end of your bed was a scroll. It looked old and to be honest a little odd. It didn't look like something that belonged in a hospital and you couldn't make out the small characters on it. Where were you?
You tried sitting up and felt a sharp pain in your arms that made you gasp. The wounds now wrapped in bandages had a tinge of red. You had been treated but what was more so interesting was that your hands had been bandaged to look like mittens. That's right... you remembered. The burning sensation in your hands. Could it have been the curse? You thought to yourself. Trying to relive the fight only for it to make you feel more down than you already had. Another failure, an almost fatal failure. You brought your mitten bandaged hands to your face feeling hot tears forming in your eyes.
"Who would want this?" You whispered to yourself.
Just then, the door to your room swung open and Nanami entered with a slender woman with long brown hair in a lab coat, cigarette in hand. They let people smoke in hospitals now?
"Y/n. You're awake." Exhaling her cigarette and dropping it off at a ashtray by the door as she walked over to your bed. She stopped close to you, looking at the machine you were hooked up to and examining your bandages.
"Uhm, not to be rude... but who are you and where am I?" The question was more so directed at the woman but Nanami was quick to answer.
"You're back at Jujutsu Tech, This is Shoko our school doctor." You nodded and tried to sit up more, but the pain was like lightening in your wounds and you had no choice but to lay back down. So you were back at the school.
"Try not to sit up. You took a beating. But rest assured, your wounds are rough but not fatal. It'll just take a few days to heal which will mean bed rest. Annoying I know, but that's all we can do for right now." Shoko said to you almost robotically. Checking over you, she deduced that time was the only thing that would be helpful now. Making her way towards the exit she stopped and turned to Nanami. "I'll let you explain to her what's going on. I'll be back to change your bandages in a few hours Y/n." She waved her hand in her departure as she reached back for her lit cigarette and closed the door behind her. Leaving just you and Nanami.
Adjusting his glasses he let out a long sigh and took a seat in a chair that lay vacant next to your bed. "I must first apologize Y/n. You were never meant to be in any harm. The curse was stronger than anticipated. You were only meant to observe the situation not engage but I couldn't have anticipated how much cursed energy that thing had stored." Sitting there in silence you just nodded to his words.
"Let me say this though, with all things considered. You did well. You managed to keep your life. Which is more than what some sorcerers get in their first time against a grade of that magnitude." He was complimenting you but you still felt shit about the whole situation. you didn't think you did good at all. You were almost positive that this could be added to the list of failures you had stacked up. You just cried and screamed for your life. How could any of that be good?
"I will say this, though. Your technique being able to hold off that curse. It's impressive. It's awful that it took you almost succumbing to have it manifest itself but I guess Gojo was right. A pressure test was needed." Your head shot up at his words. Technique?
"My technique? But I didn't do anything?" Didn't you? All you remembered was fighting and trying to hold the thing from biting you. That's all you could do before the burning. The thing had even stabbed you.
Nanami reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "That curse should have killed you, it was almost three times stronger than you, but you were able to keep it at bay with this." Leaning over to you he showed you the picture on his phone. It was you, your unconscious body. Covered in the curse's blood. You couldn't see anything about the picture that was suppose to stand out.
"I don't see what you mean.."
"Your hands. Look at your hands." Glancing at the picture again you saw what he was trying to show you. Your hands had strange black markings on them. Ones that you knew for certain had never been there before. "The burning...." you thought out loud.
"Your hands are your technique. Right now all we know is when you touch something it can burn. We're not sure if this is permanent or if it's triggered by something. Shoko had to wrap your hands in special bandages and all we know so far about your technique is what's on that scroll over there." Motioning towards the odd scroll you had noticed earlier.
"Wait what? You mean It's possible I can never touch anything again without burning it? And what the scroll have to do with it?" As much as the idea of this new technique excited you, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling you felt earlier about the whole situation in it's entirety. You felt almost like you wanted to back out but you didn't want to tell Nanami that. Plus, never being able to touch anything again without burning it? You couldn't fathom it.
"The scroll is the closest thing we could find of any information that matches your technique. Right now, all we know is that your cursed energy manifests in your hands through the markings that presented themselves. We'll know more after a couple days when you're fully healed but until then that's all we know."
Laying in that bed you began to feel slightly depressed about the whole situation. You had this special technique, but what did it cost? You did enjoy the school so far. You found Itadori, Megumi, and Nobara nice.. Your teachers Nanami and Gojo were also kinder than some teachers you had encountered in your early years and more handsome as well... but the reality of this was seriously weighing on you. Enough to make tears form in your eyes. Betraying your calm demeanor.
"Namami.. Is it...Always like this?" You asked in almost a whisper. Feeling yourself become overcome with emotion.
Sighing Nanami crossed his legs and straightened out his posture clearly uncomfortable. "This is our job. I will tell you this, it wasn't anyone's intention to put you in a position to fight with a curse of that grade. You were suppose to gradually encounter curses more your strength and kind of graduate to different curse levels until your technique was harnessed enough to fight a curse at the strength of the one we encountered." Nodding you took in Nanami's words your cheeks still silently streaming with tears.
"I won't lie to you. It doesn't get better. There will be failures. There will be deaths. Probably of people you grow to care for. This job isn't luxurious. It's what we do. Sometimes I think all of us are half crazy for just staying, but we stay."
"But why?" You questioned. The hot tears falling from your face now softly hitting the blanket that encased you.
"Because we can, because if we don't chaos will break loose. More Deaths, More curses. To live in a world full of curses destroying people everyday. It's literally living in hell. We fight. We win. We fight. We lose. That our job. We all have our reasons for staying individually, but that is really the core. We have abilities no ordinary human has. We're the unsung heroes. We'll never get the appreciation we deserve or the luxury of a normal life. That's gone. We have this life, so we enjoy it, Fight for it and make it worth it.
Nanami ran his hand through his hair now noticing you softly crying. A twinge of guilt ran through him. As much as he understood the job, and what it costed. He still felt bad for you. Maybe it's because your first experience and this was were so opposite. Seeing a small creature in your home was one thing. Looking death in the face was another entirely. He wasn't even sure what he would think in your position. A fresh face immediately getting thrown to the wolves. Though it wasn't his intention he knew the whole experience shook you and he concluded that this experience alone would probably make you rethink everything you felt before about staying here. The least he could do as your Sensei was try to level with you, so reluctantly he began to share.
"I left...once."
"You did?" Wiping away tears and blinking surprised. Nanami left being a sorcerer? He seemed so confident about the job and almost perfect at it. You didn't think you'd hear these words coming from him.
"I did, I worked as a salary man for a while. I didn't want the pain, I didn't want the deaths. I wanted somewhat of a normal life. But my mind always wandered back to this place." Staring off into space he continued. "I came back when I realized something. That work was shit. I hated it and I realized I could never really leave this life behind, as much as this work is shit as well. I was better at this. Besides, everywhere I went I saw curses. At the café, at the grocery store, everywhere. It was always there reminding me of here. So I came back. Of course, Not without Gojo's annoying "I told you so." attitude that followed me for months after I joined back and still occasionally does. But I think Y/N , if you're planning on leaving before you've truly understood what you can do. You'll regret it. Either by running into a curse you can't handle randomly or just the thought of never knowing. We all maybe a bit crazy but wallowing in that can make you truly mad."
Nanami's words sunk into you. You knew deep down he was right, but the whole experience still felt like so much..
"You're right. I know you are..." you trailed off. "But... I'm scared. I didn't want to die. I don't want to die. I wanted to be a hero."
"I'll let you in on a secret Y/n. We're all scared, and none of us want to die. It just comes with the job. That's why when we first picked you up, I told you to focus on your training. You may think you're failing. But failing still gives you knowledge. It's better to fail at the training grounds, then fail by dying or causing someone you care for to die due to recklessness. I stand by what I said earlier. You did good for the situation. It's my recklessness that caused this and it won't happen again. Until your ready and we can understand your technique better we'll take it slow. So again, I'm sorry Y/n. I know what you're thinking. You're scared but take my words to heart. I think you're capable of more than you realize. This whole situation although not the most ideal, showed you that you can survive. I think that's the most important point I can make here. You have it in you, don't give up so easily."
It was up to you now. Nanami wondered if you really would take his words to heart. He of course felt guilty about the situation. He let Gojo ruse him into thinking that whole thing was authorized even with the concerns he had before he decided to follow through with it, he definitely had some questions for him later but right now this situation needed mending and he did all he could do for now to encourage you to go on with your training.
"Thank you..." you whispered. "I know that this whole thing was meant.. to teach me but still.. I don't blame anyone for this. Just, give me a bit okay? I need to just figure all of this out.."
Nodding Nanami stood from the chair and made his way towards the door. "Take your time, Shoko will be back in a while to look you over and change your bandages. In a few days when you're better we'll see what we can learn about your hands. Take care Y/n."
As Nanami left the room, your chest heaved from the weight of everything. The situation, everything Nanami had said. You didn't want to go on. You wanted to just grab your things and leave, but the words Nanami said replayed through your ears. The curses would never leave. You'd always be reminded. It seemed like you really had no choice. You had to stay and if you had to stay, You might as well try to get stronger. Strong enough to never let this happen again. Strong enough to not be scared anymore. That's when you told yourself. I'll be the strongest. I wont fail like this again.
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After almost another whole week in the infirmary you were released. Puncture scars from the curse now donned your arms and the bandages on your hands Shoko removed with the utmost caution with Gojo and Nanami watching from the other side of the room. "Here goes nothing." Shoko quickly undid the bandages, carefully as to avoid coming into direct contact with your skin. Gazing at your bare skin you noticed the new black markings that donned on them.
Gojo was the first to come over to examine them, Nanami cautiously following behind him. "Let me, I'm the strongest." Gojo smiled proudly then leaned over you, almost a little too close for comfort in your opinion but slowly inched his fingertips to your markings. As he came close to your skin you felt a strange sensation which caused Gojo to still, then place his fingers on your palm.
"She's not deadly. What a relief!" Gojo exclaimed loudly. Then gave you a downward high five. "Seems like it's a mental trigger. It's all in your mind." He pointed to your brain.
"See Nanami my pressure test theory worked." Gojo stuck out his tongue and you couldn't help but laugh at the sheer craziness of it all. Though it was good to know you didn't have to cover your hands for the rest of your life or anything which is what you feared during the time you had your bandages on. Wearing mittens forever. You shuttered. Especially in the hot summers of Japan.
"Does it hurt?" Nanami took notice of you shutter and you smiled lightly.
"Oh no, I'm just happy I don't have to wear mittens in the summer now. I was a little afraid of that." you admitted embarrassingly.
Gojo laughed out loud. "See she's not gonna leave she's definitely one of us. Who else thinks of things like that after almost dying?" You laughed too, even Shoko gave a soft smile and you a second you though you saw Nanami smile too.
"Welp, I'll tell you what." Gojo clapped his hands together. "This calls for..."
"Don't say another field trip." You whined.
"Not in your dreams. I'm in so much trouble from the higher ups for sending you on that mission. It was only suppose to be Nanami but I left that part out." He shrugged and gave you a big smile.
You saw Nanami stiffen to Gojo's admission. "Gojo.." He muttered angrily.
"Relax she's alive, we now know her technique. It's all good. Now, as I as saying. Let's get sushi to celebrate tomorrow night! I'll get Megumi, Nobara, And Itadori to come it'll be great. Show your battle scars, talk about how Nanami is slow, and show everyone your new eh....tattoos!" Grabbing your hands and giving you another cheerful smile.
Sushi.. Now that sounded good. You couldn't lie. You wanted to see everyone again and in making the decision to stay, you realized this was going to be your life now and you were going to try to make it worth it.
===============================================
After Shoko gave you the final okay you left towards your dorm room hoping to see your fellow classmates on the way. Leaving Gojo, Shoko, and Nanami alone. Nanami and Gojo leaned up against adjacent walls while Shoko took over disposing on the leftover bandages.
"We still don't know enough, is this okay?" Nanami questioned clearly unconvinced that the situation was as light as Gojo had made it out to be earlier.
"She didn't hurt me. It has to be something triggered under pressure. Now that these markings have presented themselves. She'll probably be able to use it more. I can't see or feel the Miasma anymore. All that cursed energy that was around her. She forced it into her hands unknowingly to get the curse off of her. Maybe it just all needed a place to go and she finally chose where to harness it all." Gojo tapped his finger against this chin in thought, then shrugged.
"Either way, If she happens to come under some anxiety and something happens, we'll just give her those mittens she was complaining about." Shoko couldn't help but chuckle.
"I think she'll be fine Kento. She seems like she can endure anyway and worse comes to worse. They do sell some cute mittens these days." Gojo patted Shoko's shoulder excitedly. "Exactly. Everything will be fine."
Although Gojo was as confident about the situation as ever he did feel a tiiiiiiiiiny bit bad putting you in harms way but at least everything was coming to light and you were still alive. All wins in his book. Though he supposed it would be nice to try to get you something. Not like he needed to say sorry or anything. More so a I'm happy your not dead present. That's when he stopped dead in his thoughts. He barely knew you and he was happy you weren't dead even so much that he was contemplating getting you something for it. Must be the guilt? He shrugged tried not to think too much of it.
"Something wrong Gojo?" Nanami seemed to notice Gojo's sudden quiet.
"Eh. Nothing, Just thinking about what sushi place to go to for tomorrow." Gojo tried to stride passed Nanami only for Nanami to hold out his arm to stop him from leaving.
"Gojo.. I don't think I need to say this... but never leave that information out again. If I'm to go alone, I go alone. The only reason I went along with this was because you said it was authorized. My mistake for listening to you but still.... It was... too close." Nanami warned.
"Relax, I learned my lesson." Gojo dipped under Nanami's arm and trotted away. Exiting the situation before being scolded more. Nanami sighed and Shoko made her way to the exit as well.
"Kento, Let it go. I don't think he's gonna play that card again anytime soon." She patted his chest and left. Leaving Nanami who still was consumed in his thoughts. He was concerned but decided to just see where the situation went. You forgave his error but for some reason he still felt a bit guilty. The whole situation was messy and not something that under normal circumstances would happen to a student under his watch. He felt responsible and a little stupid letting Gojo trick him like that. He should have known better than to believe the higher ups would authorize something like this. But in a way maybe it was his own curiosity too. Guilt rising in him, he thought to himself, Maybe I should get her something, as a small apology. That at least would make me feel better for falling for Gojo's plot. Sighing Nanami exited trying to think of what to get for you.
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pinkleaaves · 1 year
Text
Ben never knew what is was like to be alone until he felt utterly alone.
Ben won’t deny that the Losers have changed his life in so many ways these past few months. Sometimes, it’s like Ben forgot what is was like to have no friends before the Losers. They have become his family, his home. It’s beyond belief that everything has gone to shit. It’s beyond belief that he is actually alone again. Ben didn’t think he would miss the laughter of his friends before this moment.
Even before them, before this isolation, the bridge gap and space the size of the Grand Canyon. Ben knew loneliness like the back of his hand. He understood how to keep his head down and not say a peep. It wasn’t like he ever stayed long enough in one area to have an impact on those around him.
Ben was known as the new kid, ( “oh, I get now,” the girl with auburn hair said, Ben was so clueless on what she was referring, this was just some stupid music that nobody before has taken an interest in before this very moment. She never did explain what there was to get. She just had a bright smile that made her eyes shine in the afternoon sun.) joining in the middle of the year, after everyone has made friends and stayed in their cliques, that was always something he noticed with every school. It didn’t matter how long he was stuck in each hell hole, people would ac the same every time. The cliques would stare him down either in curiosity or disgust.
But the Losers had a different look, it was something unreadable. He never felt like they were trying to be judgmental, especially with Eddie’s bright, big, almost cow like brown eyes.
Ben never looked back when he could feel twelve pairs of eyes on the back of his head, he knew it wouldn’t last long. They would find something new to move upon to.
But as he is ever an optimist, everything did go to shit. Went down the hell hole. Explanation doesn’t really matter. The point, question, is why does he feel so empty on the inside?
He has gone through this before. Hell, this was his whole world up until now. So, why does this hurt like hell? Some days it feels like when his dad died in the army. And others…
Feels like there shouldn’t be a reason to get out of bed.
During those days, he has the impression from his household that he doesn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere really.
All of this becomes a big mess of emotions. Ben Hanscom hasn’t belonged anywhere to anyone in a long time. The only person who is still there is his mom, but she is consistent, constantly going to be in his life whether he wants her or not.
That’s something he gets. He gets it because that is simple basic human logic. You will family stuck with you forever, even if they are gone from your life, there will be memories to think and remember them from.
Maybe that is what Ben should view the Losers upon. Instead of the bad parts at the very end, when shit hit the ceiling. Maybe, just maybe Ben can focus on the good parts he had with the Losers. As his mom has said, people come and go from your lives.
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timaeusterrored · 1 year
Text
(2022, Night City University Art Hall)
No one was coming. They had talked Vincent into entering his art, and didn’t even come to see it. He was embarrassed and honestly a little hurt..
“Vince!”
Vincent looked up to see Kerry and Judy absolutely hauling ass down the hall. They were panting by the time they got to Vincent’s display, Kerry trying to explain what had happened and why they were late and how sorry he was.
“J’s parking the car. Rogue and Nanc, and Denny are coming to. I dunno who else- Baby I’m so sorry.” Kerry kissed Vincent’s forehead with no shame as to who was watching. Some people obviously knew who Kerry was, and was staring at them. He honestly thought they had a show tonight. He was a little sweaty and began to think maybe they had done an early one.
Judy hugged him next, also apologizing. “I was working on something and completely lost track of time, I’m so sorry.” She said, squeezing her friend before looking back. Johnny was walking down the hall with Rogue, Nancy, Denny, and Henry. None of them looked like they belonged here in the slightest. Vincent couldn’t help but stare a bit.
“Think this is the first time I’ve never not broken in here.” Johnny said, pulling Vincent closer to squeeze him a bit to his side. He leaned down with a kiss of his ear and, Vincent could not believe it, an apology. “We had a show tonight and played early so we could get here. And was still late.” Denny said, holding Henry’s hand as they looked around. “Well let’s see! I wanna see the great Vincent’s art!” Nancy said, pulling the group closer.
Vincent watched them oooo and aaa, before Johnny pointed to one. It was the bar of the Afterlife, Rogue and Mike were working behind the counter. “How much?” Johnny asked, hands in his pockets. “I-what?” Vince asked softly, Kerry slipping his hand into Vincent’s.
“I wanna hang that in the bar. How much?” Johnny asked, Rogue nodding in agreement. “You don’t have to pay, J-“ Vince began but Johnny silenced him. “That’s like saying I don’t make people pay to get into shows. I wanna pay so let me pay.” Johnny said.
Denny pointed to another one with a smile. It was a picture of her and Kerry on the fire escape, lighting a cigarette between them. “I didn’t even see you drawing that one.” She said softly, noticing a lot of pictures drawn from their time together. The apartment building Vince lived in, the outside of the Afterlife, Johnny playing guitar, hell there was a samurai show up there.
They all looked at their friend with pride, who was looking anywhere but at the adoring gazes. The all knew Vincent hadn’t expected them, Kerry felt awful for being late. The one thing he finally gets invited too from Vincent and he’s late. “Ever think of making an album cover for Samurai?” Denny asked suddenly, Vincent’s face going pale. “Uh.. I’ll think about it.”
The group grinned, Kerry hugging his input closer to him. Johnny stood at their other side, Vince could see him itching for a cigarette and appreciated him not smoking in here for Vince’s sake. “We planned on getting some sushi after. It was gonna be a surprise dinner for you but now we kinda feel like we owe it to you for being late.” Nancy said, frowning a bit. Vincent could see the guilt in all of their faces, Johnny included.
“Sushi sounds great.” Vincent smiled, slipping his hand into Johnny’s as well.
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madbug · 7 months
Text
meaning of home
had you asked me 3 or 4 years ago where home was, my instinctive thought would've been my parents house, the house I grew up in, in a little neighborhood. I would've thought about the kitchen with those light fixtures, the backyard with the apple trees, and my room with the flower stickers I plastered all over the walls when I was seven, and the signed taylor swift poster I got when I was eight.
but then I went to college, and I moved halfway across the country, to live in a dorm room with girls I had never met before, decorated with things I got from target the week before. My dorm didn't feel like my room. I put up posters and lights and plants and it just felt wrong. It might have been that everything was shut down, online, and I was stuck in that room all of the time, but it didn't feel like a place I could relax in. It felt like a place I was stuck in, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. my only escape was online. had you asked me then, I would've told you how much I missed home, and would've described the layout of the kitchen, the organization of all of the different dishes, the oven, the fridge, the things that I really missed.
That summer I barely visited my old home, I got a job at a summer camp, and taught kids archery. The weekends I did stay with my parents, I felt like I didn't belong. I slept on a couch in the basement. My little sister had moved into my room.
The flowers were gone. Peeled off and painted over. A little bit of residue remained, as well as the window facing towards the west. My sister complained about the way the light shines through that window when the sun is setting, directly hitting the desk. I missed that. had you asked me that summer, home would not have changed.
The next year got a little better, moved into a different dorm, with people I knew. I spent more time in the library than in my room, and started to make friends. It was weird, but I felt like I belonged at my college. I started to branch out more and try new things.
The next summer I was a camp counselor again. I wasn't avoiding living with my parents, per say, and the job was a mess, but I enjoyed it. Sometimes. Othertimes I felt stuck. I was 16 again, and working the only job I had ever known. I was never going to get anywhere in life, never felt like I could succeed. I started to hate myself. the friends I had made in previous years hadn't returned, moved in to bigger and better things, and i was still there. stuck. it didn't feel like home.
And then it was fall and classes started and I flew back across the country. Junior year of college. I shared an apartment, a variety of baked goods and puzzles with a good friend of mine. I also frequently had my boyfriend over. Had you asked me that year, that apartment, with the shitty microwave and my mildly functional nintendo switch, would have been home. Finally I was in a place, where i felt like I was me.
That summer, I moved back into my parent's house. It was the first time in three years that I had spent more than a couple weeks there. It was nearly three months. and I was miserable. I didn't feel like I wa at home, I didn't feel like myself. I felt like I was playing pretend, acting like I used to be. I'd numbly go with my parents to church each weekend, and disassociate for an hour while they prayed. My mom was nice, and I missed my siblings but I quickly fell into a depressive state. I was working a job in the field I love, succeeding in my career, and yet I had never felt like more of a wreck. the two hour bus commute every day made me wish I had rented an apartment and hadn't saved the money. The lack of a car made me feel more stuck than ever. I didn't know anything and I couldn't do anything right.
It was impossible to explain why I felt homesick, when I was with my family, but I was missing people, not a place.
My head was all over the place. My focus was bad, my headaches were worse, and the occasional passing out and migraines were concerning at best and indicative of something bigger at worst. And then, when it was almost all over, i hit my head again.
This year, my friend and I got an apartment in the same building. Functional microwave, questionable oven. it doesn't feel like home, not in the way the other one did. Maybe it's because I spend less time here. Maybe it's because when I hang out with friends, I do it outside. Maybe it's because when I hang out with my boyfriend, we're always at his house, which feels like more of a home than my place does, even though I have my posters up and everything.
I think it's because I've been too focused on home as a location. The feeling of home, I've realized, to me, has nothing to do with location. Surrounding myself with familiar things can be comforting, but it doesn't make a place home. Home isn't the house I grew up in, it's not existing with my family. The feeling of home can be found anywhere, and its in the people you surround yourself with. I've made friends, and hanging out with them, getting dinner and cracking dumb jokes is the most at home I've ever felt. The feeling of home is the feeling of belonging, that's what i've been chasing all these years.
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