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winter-soldier-vibes · 3 years

Note

Hey darling ❤️ love your writing 3000 :) can u do one with Bucky x reader (they’re together) where he overhears the reader on the phone with her parents that are emotionally & verbally abusive towards her (they always have been) and the reader has to explain it all to him afterwards even tho she’s having a panic attack (bc she’s afraid bucky will leave her since she has no one else to go to ??) and bucky comforts her and reassures her that he’s gonna be there for her and like comfort fluff? I live in an emotionally abusive and manipulative household rn and I tell you your fics are like an escape for me. Even if u don’t do this thank you from the bottom of my heart :)

Hey there, I love you 3000 ❤ I am so so sorry to hear about your situation, and while I'm glad to hear that my writing is an escape for you, I want you to know that I'm here for you. No one should have to go through what you described. I hope that this can bring you some comfort but please, I encourage you to reach out to someone who can help you. My DM's are open as well, you shouldn't face this alone. I'm here for you!!!

You owe them nothing

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3200 (ish)

Warnings: emotional abuse/gaslighting, manipulation, parent issues, tears, angst, breakdown, fluff.

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You really tried to keep it hidden. It wasn’t something that everyone needed to know about.

Your parents loved you, at least that’s what they had said. But it was one of those things where you felt like it was for show - the kindness that they showed when you were around others faded away once you were alone with them.

You remember once they had said “of course I love you, I’m your parent!”

But that made you wonder how they would treat you if you weren’t theirs.

They were horrible to you for as long as you could remember. Gaslighting you and making you feel like you owed them something even though they were the ones who should have taken care of you.

They were around but never…there. They would be there for family dinners but they were always riddled with criticisms of grades and who you were talking to and how you dressed. All of your hobbies were seen as a waste of time, something you should only do when you had nothing else to do. School came first, naturally, but there was always something they told you you had to do before you could do anything for yourself.

Yet when you would complain about being depressed, they told you to get a hobby because you never do anything.

Tired meant lazy, energetic and passionate meant loud and annoying. When you were quiet they thought you had nothing to say, yet when you expressed your opinions you were told to shut up.

You couldn’t win.

You could never make them happy, there was always something you were doing wrong.

They thought it was their right to monitor who you talked to and saw, what you did outside of school, what sports you could join. When you would say no to the school dances or parties you would make up an excuse about not wanting to go or having work to do. Your friends would call you a buzz kill. Little did they know you would give anything to go.

Whenever you would do something wrong (or anything, period,), your parents would yell at you. They would curse you out, make you cry, only to yell at you for crying like a little bitch.

The older you got, the worse it was.

You thought when you moved out it would be better. But you had all these years of being told you were worthless and having them be your providers. When you got your own place you didn’t really have any friends, nor did you really know how to make friends. You had a job to help you get by, you could support yourself. That wasn’t the issue. You could support yourself, you always had to.

It was that you were so lonely.

You wanted friends but you were so afraid of the criticism you would get. You were afraid to make yourself known, because you were always taught that being told what to do and taught what to think was much more appealing than having your opinion.

But this was an opinionated world.

You were good at what you did, so good that you had gotten a job at S.H.I.E.L.D. You thought that would make you happy, more importantly that it would make your parents happy, but no such luck.

“I got a really great job, guys.”

“Fantastic. I guess you’re just doing so great without us,” they had snapped.

“What? I mean… this is what you wanted right? For me to get a good job?” you had said, confused.

You heard a loud sigh on the other end of the line. “Of course we do, what are you crazy about? Of course we wanted you to get a good job but you just deserted us like we were trash. Have we done nothing for you?”

You felt your heart sink in your stomach. ‘Of course you guys have, I love -”

“Don’t say what you don’t mean. If you really cared about us you’d be helping us out. You got a great job and probably have a huge paycheck that you hoard and you left us here to struggle to make ends meet.”

You took the phone away from your face temporarily to take a shaky breath. Of course they would go there with the salary, why wouldn’t they? All of your paychecks had gone to them, since it was their house and they were feeding you, leaving you with barely enough money for your car and gas and phone bills, only for them to suggest longer hours when you complained.

“I can help you guys out if you need,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

You heard an exasperated sigh on the other line again. “You really should be more grateful, you know? We raised you your entire life and then you leave us alone? You never even call us? You’re so fucking selfish.”

Then the line went dead.

You shook your head and felt tears in your eyes as you spoke to yourself. “Well maybe I would call you if it didn’t always yell at me.”

Of course, you would never say that.

See, it wasn’t so bad. You never said anything because they were only ever mean to you, which would make you uncomfortable. There were people out there that would get hit or who would have to raise themselves from a young age. Once you grew thick skin it wasn’t so bad, you were just being dramatic.

Right?

Your new job was fairly successful, you were fantastic at what you did. You did a lot of behind the scenes work, weapon repair and plans of action with missions. Not that they needed much help with that. Still, they took you in as their friends.

Well, as close as you would let them get to as friends.

It took a while before you warmed up to them. Everyone tended to keep to themselves, but not as much as you. You kept the parts of you hidden away - you were there for a job, you did it, and you did it well. You knew how to do your job but interacting with the team, making friends - you didn’t want to get emotionally attached.

Not like you knew how to make friends to begin with.

Naturally you were drawn to the quieter side of the team, once you were able to open up. They were all nice but sometimes the parties and the jokes were a bit much. You just didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing that would make you the punchline.

No one needed to know about you, or how you would spend your free time being yelled at through a phone with you trying to make it better. That wasn’t part of the job, so you shouldn’t bring it up.

It wasn’t like anyone would want to help. You were just a nuisance to everyone around you.

Right?

No one talked about their life before the team much. Not many people on the team had a great life before the Avengers first came together. Natasha or Wanda had once spoken about how this team was a family. And as much as you wanted to believe it, you helped the team. You weren’t a part of the team. So even if that were true, it didn’t include you.

At least, that was your point of view.

The team viewed you as a part of the team as much as any of them. You didn’t fight with them but you made sure everything would go as smoothly. You were kind and great at what you did, but they wished you would open up more. Of course, being a team of people who had trouble opening up, they understood.

Bucky was one of the ones who took a liking to you, mostly because he saw a lot of himself in you. He could tell there was something that you were trying to get past but weren’t quite able to yet. That there was something bothering but you wouldn’t dare say it for fear of bothering someone. You threw yourself into projects and distractions and from the way you carried yourself, he guessed you were avoiding something that you weren’t ready to work through. At least, not yet.

He knew that feeling too well.

The ex-assassin was one of the easiest for you to open up to because he didn’t expect much from interactions. Both of you were quiet and kept to yourselves that there wasn’t much pressure to share anything or say anything. You knew his past but would never bring it up unless he wanted to. Which eventually, he did. You could tell he felt pressure to be who he was before HYDRA took him, and while Steve was surprised he opened up to you first, you weren’t. Steve knew Bucky before everything, and you didn’t have that bias. He was whoever he was today regardless of who he was yesterday.

And Bucky found comfort in that.

You think you would’ve too, if you thought you deserved it enough to do the same.

See, you were worried that you were making everything worse than it really was. You worried that maybe you were being too sensitive or that what you had grown up with was normal. With everything that everyone on the team went through, a few insults from your parents was hardly anything. You were being dramatic.

There was nothing to be sad or angry about. You just had to get over yourself.

Right?

You were getting by until one night when your parents called, as they did on occasion. You were in the middle of working, so you ignored it. The phone went to voicemail before it started ringing again, and you ignored it, again. The third time you sighed and picked up your phone, turning away from your work.

You took a deep breath before you answered. “Hello?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

You closed your eyes and brought a hand to rub your head. “Well I’m doing fine, thank you, how are you?”

“Don’t give me that attitude. What the fuck are you doing? You’ve been ignoring our calls.”

You stood up to pace the floor slightly, dreading the conversation that was coming. Is it the ‘family is most important’ or the ‘where’s my money?’ speech today? “I’ve been working.”

“What, so work is more important than family now? Is that what this is? You don’t care about us?”

Family speech it is.

“Dad -”

“What if one of us was dying? Huh? Would that be important?”

“Stop it. No one is dying, and I was working. And I have more work to do, so I really have to go.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, I’m your father.”

Gaining confidence you gritted your teeth and snapped, “You know what? I’m an adult now so you can’t tell me what to do.”

There was silence on the other end of the line and you could practically hear the steam coming out of your father’s ears.

At some point Bucky had come down to your working space to check on you, seeing as it was nearly morning. He stopped in the doorway, and seeing you were busy on the phone he thought he would stop by later to give you some privacy. But he stopped when he heard you snap.

You never snap.

“Who do you think you’re talking to you ungrateful little bitch?”

“I’m talking to the people who treated me like shit my entire life and ask me for money when you wouldn’t give me the time of day for 18 fucking years.”

Even you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. But god did it feel good to say them.

“Are you fucking serious right now? We did nothing for you? What do you think we’ve been doing your whole life? We’ve done everything we did to help you be the best person you could be. You have that job now because of us and you have no right to speak to me that way.”

You chuckled darkly as you looked up at the ceiling, unaware of Bucky’s presence behind you. “My entire life all I’ve ever wanted to do was make you guys proud of me. But you know what? I’m fucking done. You hated me, gaslighted me, and made me hate myself almost as much if not more than you seemed to hate me.”

“I did no such thing you ungrateful -”

“You were supposed to love me and care for me, and all you did was take advantage of me. I’m not your child, I’m a paycheck. I don’t owe you anything because you gave me nothing. So you know what? FUCK. YOU.”

You hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, adrenaline taking over your body as you tried to stop shaking. Because a small part of you felt bad.

But fuck did that feel amazing.

You heard a throat clear behind you and you turned around to see Bucky, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“You okay?”

You nodded nervously, rubbing the sides of your arms. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, unconvincingly. “How much, uh...how much did you -

“Enough,” he said, pushing himself off of the door frame as he crossed over to you. “Who was that?”

“Bucky, don’t, it’s really fine. I just got a little worked up.”

“Y/n,” he started, looking at you with concern. “Who were you talking to?”

“No one.”

“You don’t get upset like that at no one,” he took your hands in his. “Y/n, you're shaking.”

It was then that you realized your hands were still shaking, trying to keep the anxiety of what happened at bay.

It’s going to be so much worse now.

I can never talk to them again.

Is that a good thing? Didn’t I want that?

Bucky could sense you getting lost in your head. “Sweetheart, tell me what happened, please. I want to help you.”

You pulled your hands away from his and crossed your arms. “You can’t help me because there’s nothing wrong, okay? I handled it, it’s over. Done. nothing to worry about.”

“Y/n -”

“No really, there’s nothing you can do, okay?”

“Will you at least let me try?”

You looked at him, adrenaline starting to drain from your system. This was Bucky, your Bucky, who had never done anything but love and support you. He had never done anything to hurt you.

But what if he left you too?

You took in a sharp breath and curled in on yourself, a scared look on your face. Bucky crossed back over to you, seeing a scared look on your face.

“Hey, hey, y/n? Can you look at me?”

You brought your eyes up to meet his, feeling your chest constricting as you tried to keep your breathing even. It wasn’t working.

“I - I’m sorry, you shouldn’t… I’m fine really I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for,” he pulled you in for a hug and kissed the top of your head. “Let’s go sit down, okay?’

He led you over to your bed and you leaned forward, hands on your knees and head in your hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening, this - I’m sorry, it’s so stupid, I’m so stupid.”

Bucky rubbed a hand up and down your back, hushing you. “It’s not stupid. If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid.” Bucky took a small breath. “Do you remember all of those times after nightmares and all those panic attacks you would walk me through? How I thought I was being stupid?”

“You weren’t being stupid”

“And neither are you.”

You took some more shaky breaths as tears kept falling down your face. “You’re okay. It’s alright, I’m right here.”

Bucky let you calm down, knowing you would talk about it if you wanted to. He wanted you to talk about it so he could help you (and hurt whoever upset you) but he wouldn’t force you into telling him anything you didn’t want to.

The two of you sat in the silence, Bucky looking at you with soft eyes as you kept your face hidden.

“I haven’t told you a goddamn thing about me. You ever wonder why?”

You looked over at Bucky, eyebrows creased with slight confusion.

“They said blood was supposed to be thicker than water. That family comes first, right? I spent my whole life listening to them and following them and being the perfect kid. I made myself into everything they wanted me to be. And it still wasn’t enough for them.”

Bucky tilted his head slightly. He hadn’t known his parents much before they died but he had always wanted to have more time. But he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that not everyone had good parents.

“You know, I remember thinking that once I made it they would be happy. That if I worked hard enough or went onto do great things that they would be proud of me. That’s all I ever wanted, you know?” you said, voice wavering as you let out a bitter laugh. “But it’s not, you know? Never is, never was, never will be. All they do is take and take and no matter how good I am they’re always gonna hate me because I can’t be perfect.”

“No one’s perfect, y/n.”

“Well that’s what they want me to be. I know I can’t be perfect so I know they’ll never be happy. That they’ll call me ungrateful and selfish for succeeding and for leaving them when they never wanted me to be there to begin with.” You felt tears spill over as you wiped them away. “And I’m ust so fucking done with being a disappointment to them and to everyone else.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I don’t know,” you said softly, not really wanting to be more vulnerable.

Bucky, sensing this was a time he could push you, challenged you. “I think you do.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t want anyone to see me the way they did. I thought what they said wasn’t true but...I just thought that maybe I was overreacting. Other people have it worse you know - some people have no parents or some have it so much worse. Mine just yell at me you know? Tell me everything’s my fault and that they wish they’d never had me. That I’m ungrateful for not being with them and that I owe them. I just...I heard that for the first 18 years of my life. I didn’t need any more of it.”

“y/n, that’s…” he swallowed, trying to contain his anger. “That’s not normal. No one should have to go through that. You can’t possibly think you're a bad person.”

Your shrug was enough to tell him that you did.

“Y/n, I don’t know who your parents think they are but you don’t owe them a damn thing. You may be related to them but you have no obligation to love your parents if they treat you like that. You have every right to be angry or to hate them. It doesn’t make you a bad person to be angry with someone who hurt you.”

“But they’re my family.”

“Well they didn’t treat you like it. You have us now, you don’t need them anymore. We’re your family. And we’re not gonna leave you.”

“They didn’t leave me Bucky, I left them.”

“You can’t leave someone who was never there for you.”

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Breathing In

Sequel to: “In Too Deep”

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Cheating (Past), Mentions of toxic relationships

Genre: Romance, Angst

Summary: It’s not just about leaving a person behind, it’s about leaving behind what feels to be a separate world, one you want to detach from yet you still want to hold onto for the twisted comfort it gives you, the familiarity of it all. But then again, you’ve been drowning in the deep too long to still want to hold on, and all you want is to swim up to the surface and breathe in.

Requested by the lovely readers who showed the first fic “In Too Deep” so much love and support. I’m so glad to be writing a sequel for this piece because I enjoyed writing it so much! I love the storyline and I can’t express how grateful I am the Anon who sent in the request for it in the first place. Love you all, Vy ❤

A romantic relationship should never be a responsibility. A person should never be another person’s responsibility. One cannot be a pillar and stand strong while the other is falling apart, leaning on them and depending on them for everything in their life. That’s not love, it’s hell. It’s a job you get paid for with nothing but exhaustion, pain and emptiness. Your mind’s constantly flooded by images of all those times you could’ve experienced had those ‘what if’s happened.

What if she didn’t turn up to class late that day? What if she didn’t need anyone to distract the professor for her to get in the classroom undetected? What if when Kaylor asked for sex as a repayment she refused and slapped him across the face?

Well, things would be different. She wouldn’t be living like this, that’s for sure. She’d be working her ass off, just like she’s wanted to all her life. Coming from a family of drunks and bums, she’s always wanted to prove her worth, not to others but to herself. To prove that ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’ doesn’t always apply. She’s always been terrified of that saying, never wanting to become like her parents and older siblings. Never wanting to become like Kaylor who started off as her acquaintance, proceeded to become a guy she regularly hooked up with and then became her boyfriend. And then, the worst decision among all she’s ever made, she allowed him to slip that ring onto her finger and a few months later exchange vows with her in front of an altar. Had her phone not died the night prior to meeting him, none of this would’ve happened. She’d have several normal jobs instead of one barely-paying one and one she didn’t know she ever even signed up for - taking care of Kaylor.

She’s been drowning in the deep for so long, she can barely remember. Long enough to forget how breathing in feels.

However, she’s not the only one.

He has his own fulfilled ‘what if’s as well: what if he hadn’t left his apartment that night? What if he had stopped after the second beer like he originally intended to? What if he didn’t choose exactly that night to socialize with the stranger who sat down on the bar stool next to him. What if he simply paid for his drinks and left?

But he didn’t, he didn’t do any of that. Didn’t manage to preserve himself, didn’t manage to keep it in his pants or hide the lust in his eyes. Still, the hook-up on its own wouldn’t have been so horrible had it not led to what it did afterwards. Had it not led to a relationship with one very fragile girl. A girl much like him, too much like him. Constantly insecure, fearful, paranoid, dependent, distrusting. A girl always in need of a firm grip on her hand and an external voice telling her it would all be alright because her internal voice is never optimistic. Her own mind doesn’t like her, she can barely stand it, and he got caught in that crossfire.

He can’t really picture what he would be doing with his life if it wasn’t for Ida, he’s that sucked in. He’s that deep into this mess. It’s not water he’s drowning in, it’s quicksand, the type that’s taken form with his regret and self-hatred as a base. Breathing in would result in sand-filled lungs but at this point his only wish is to breathe in, no matter the consequences. After all, if it doesn’t save him it’ll kill him and he can live with that.

Still, it hasn’t all been dark for our broken lovers. There are several ‘what if’s Corpse and Y/N don’t ever wanna imagine or know the outcome of. Such as, for example: What if the two of them never met? What if they didn’t strike up the relationship question? What if they didn’t share that kiss in that parking lot that night. That single contact between their lips was the only thing they didn’t regret that night. What they regret the most, however, is walking away from one another, spiraling their situation out of control, turning it into a twisted, sticky spiderweb, laced with the sin of cheating on a significant other.

If it were as simple as people make it out to be - break up with the other person instead of cheating - they would’ve done it so long ago. They would’ve been far from here. Very far from this fucking place and these fucking problems had they been the ones holding the leash of their fate rather than let the current of events manipulate them.

Maybe they’re a little late with the grasp of this realization, but that’s not what matters. What’s important is the here and now, the events that are about to occur or not occur. The actions that will or won’t be taken. Y/N and Corpse have been a will they/won’t they pair from the very start, always leaning more towards won’t because of how impossible it all felt. How hopeless the spiraling hell they were in made them feel.

But now the tables have turned.

Corpse was the first to leave his hell-cell. He did so by cutting things off with Ida a week ago. He did so rather gently and caringly, promising he’s always a phone call away whenever she needs him. It took a lot of preparation and guts he didn’t have but had to develop in order to execute such a delicate operation and make it a successful one. The response he got from her was rather surprising.

“I was hoping you’d call it off.“ She said with a small smile, shocking him to the point of letting out a small gasp, “I mean, you know me, I could’ve never done it. But I hated what I was doing to you and I hated myself even more for not being able to stop and...“ she trailed off, her lips pressing in a thin line, eyes glistening with tears, “...I’m so glad you did it. You’re saving both of us, trust me.“

As he was packing his stuff, he overheard Ida’s phone call with her parents, telling them she wanted to move back in with them for a little while but refused to answer any further questions, at least not over the phone. That was the biggest relief, a whole-ass boulder lifted off him, allowing him to finally breathe in. But he wasn’t breathing in at full lung capacity, he still isn’t even no as he stands outside a gas station, leaning on the side of his car which is loaded with all his belongings which he doesn’t have many of, thankfully. He’s waiting for her - the half of this relationship that’s still swaying between will it/won’t it. Corpse is all will, all in, ready for a new, fresh start, ready to be able to breathe the air of the real world, feel the breeze of a real life finally. Whereas Y/N is not as certain, not as prepared and a lot more emotionally attached. It’s understandable, she’s leaving behind a husband, not just a boyfriend.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Corpse. I won’t be able to live if something happens to him. I’ll forever feel guilty, I’ll hate myself forever. You gotta understand.“ She told him the same night him and Ida had their break-up. He called her, telling her he had some big news to share. His excitement was quickly shot down when she gave him this response, eyes glossy with sorrowful tears.

He understood.

She asked for time. He gave it to her.

He gave her an ultimatum. She gave dubious agreement.

The ultimatum? : meet him at this gas station, with her belongings, right at sunset, prepared for the adventure filled with struggles, the whole experience of starting new.

And so he waits, watching as the sun goes lower and lower, leaving the scene to be taken over by the moon and now dark and starry sky - just like his hopefulness is stepping aside for his depression and dread to take over.

She’s not here. She hasn’t tried to reach out to tell him anything. Even a rejection would’ve been better than to let him wait here, his heart breaking a bit more with each passing minute. All this time he’s been trying to convince himself he’ll move on without her if she doesn’t show up. He’ll skip town like the two of them planned to do together. He’ll leave and leave it all behind, Y/N included. But now, looking from this standpoint, being barely a minute away from having to put his foot down on the gas pedal and drive out of the city, pass the sign that’ll tell him he’s passed the threshold, he finds it brings him almost physical pain.

He’s not sure he can do it.

With a heavy sigh he spares the horizon one final glance to see there are only faint traces of the sun he was observing just minutes prior, the final reminder that he has to go now, has to stay true to himself and respect the ultimatum he posed, no matter how much it hurts emotionally, mentally or physically.

Just as he’s about to enter his car, he hears what sounds to be footsteps, but before he can even look up to check where they’re coming from a loud, cheery yell startles him.

“HEY! Look what I got!“ He’d recognize that voice anywhere and no matter what words it says, it’ll always grab his full attention just like it did just now.

Corpse whirls around to face the direction of the voice to see her, Y/N beaming at him brighter than the sun he just watched set. Over one shoulder she has a duffel bag and in the opposite arm she’s dragging a suitcase and if that isn’t confirmation enough, in her free hand she proudly wields what looks to be a document. When she gets closer, his eyes widen at the realization of what she’s holding - divorce papers.

“H-how?“ He stutters in disbelief, his jaw hanging, his heart beating like crazy, his eyes brimming with tears of joy that’s just exploded throughout his chest like a firework.

She rolls her eyes, dropping the papers, suitcase and duffel bag in the dust, “You talk too much.“ With that, she rushes over to him, throwing her arms and legs around him, her head nuzzled in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

Breathing in, they’re both breathing in, with full lung capacity at that - something they never thought they’d have the chance to do, but here they are. Here they stand, shamelessly in each other’s tight , loving embrace that they never want to have to let go of again, afraid of the wrong eyes seeing it.

They are finally free, finally out of the deep end and back to being afloat, floating towards the nearest island to make it their own. And on that note...

“Let’s get out of here.“ Y/N whispers in Corpse’s ear, her fingers tightening the hold of his shirt at his shoulder blades.

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

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frostedfaves · 3 years

Text

Haunt (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: civilian!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You want to move forward with Wanda, but something (or someone) is holding you back.

Warnings: angst, car crash, alcohol and blood mentions, severe injuries, a lil spooky stuff

A/N: I appreciate everyone using the link in the masterlist post for the taglist, because it’s much easier for me to keep track of everyone that way :) please tell me what you think here!

Previous part

“I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

It was a terrifying confession made simpler when she was the first to blurt out the words, and suddenly fear didn’t exist. It was just her lips on yours, her hands on your neck and waist and either her shampoo or perfume that was flooding your senses right now. Breathing seemed optional with her fingers inching their way under your hoodie and you thought that just maybe you’d get to kiss a beautiful woman for once without consequences. You should’ve known better than that.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

The bubble popped when you practically threw yourself on the opposite end on the couch, and all that time you spent evading your need for oxygen caught up with you. Fear was present in your mind again, as much as you despised it. But for the moment, none of that mattered more than the woman beside you.

“Is everything okay? Did I go too far?”

Is everything okay? If only she knew how heavy a question that was. Is anything okay when you’ve been haunted since you were eighteen by a person that used to be your everything, and has been isolating you since the moment she left your life? It isn’t, but that’s the worst possible thing to say on what seems to be your first date in years. So you say--

“No, you didn’t. That was all me.”

Because it’s true, it’s always been you. Sure, she’s in your ear every second of every day, but you react every time. And you probably will for the rest of your life, which is why you insist on Wanda promising not to grow attached to you. Nothing seems to be permanent with you anymore, and sadly, whatever you have with her will be included in that. If you weren’t certain of that before, the whispered chants on the walk home made it clearer than ever.

You made it through an entire week without worrying Wanda, and it helped you make an impressive amount of progress in whatever it was that you were currently building together. She invited you over for dinner a few times during the week, and when you weren’t eating together, you were joining her for walks with Alexei that turned into hour long talks on her porch. Something about spending so much time with a Sokovian teacher with a golden hour halo over her hair made it easy to fall fast, and you hoped you’d never land.

Your roommate, Mia, was making dinner today and inviting Pietro, and you felt it was only right to invite Wanda. In reality, you wanted to spend another night alone with her, but the logical part of you knew that you needed to see her twin brother (and your friend’s boyfriend) face-to-face at least once.

“Once dinner is over, Piet and I are heading back to his place,” Mia told you as you help her set the table, rolling her eyes when you simply nod. “I’m telling you this so you can invite Wanda to stay the night!”

“Mia, I’m not--”

“Why though? You’re both adults and it’s Friday night! Have some fun.”

“We haven’t even known each other a full week yet and we still haven’t figured out what we are to each other.”

“Use the time to talk about it, then!” She walks around the table to stand in front of you, placing both hands on either side of your face. “I’m saying this because I care about you. Don’t let your past ruin your future.”

Wanda and Pietro arrived before you could decide whether or not you’d call and ask her to bring an overnight bag, but the quick kiss she gave you at the door eased your mind a bit. It was easy to see through all the teasing that the twins cared for each other, and you couldn’t help but smile when you noticed Wanda trying to get a read on Mia in the same way that you were keeping your eye on Pietro. The pair was nearly out of the door by the time you loaded the dishwasher, and the words were out of your mouth before you could over analyze them.

“Do you want to stay the night?”

You walked in from the kitchen and watched her eyes widen as she faced you, forcing yourself not to think the worst immediately, and to stick with your decision. Part of you knows you want this, whatever it is, and seeing Mia and Pietro together only confirmed that.

“I bought some of that ice cream you like, and I have a TV in my room. I was thinking that we could eat some while we talk about what we both want from each other and then watch that cartoon you were telling me about.”

“Okay.”

She followed you into the kitchen and watched you scoop ice cream into bowls, thanking you with a gentle kiss as you gave her the first one and waiting for you to lead her to your bedroom. You turned on the television as the two of you sat side by side on your bed, needing to stare at the moving screensaver for a bit to calm your nerves.

“Is it completely insane to say that I want a real relationship with you after only knowing you for seven days?”

“No,” you assured her as you turned your head to meet her gaze. “Because I kind of want the same thing. I didn’t want to want that because you’re easily one of the best people to come into my life in a long time, and I’d hate to scare you off before I can even really enjoy time with you. But I just--”

“Why do you think you’ll scare me away?”

“Because I--I have a past that affects how I’m able to share myself emotionally in relationships, and I just think you deserve someone who doesn’t hesitate before they jump in with you.”

“I had someone who jumped in headfirst with me, and I thought it was the greatest thing to have someone that was so sure of me all the time, but it turned out to be the worst relationship I’d ever been in.” She shifted her bowl to one hand and placed the other on your knee. “In the process of healing from it, I learned that I was taking chances because of the confidence of my ex instead of actually believing in a situation myself. So I’m actually grateful to meet someone like you that takes time to think things through, because it makes me feel understood in a way.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you’ve thought about this, too?” you ask while grabbing her hand, and she laughs a bit.

“You haven’t left my mind since the moment you literally ran into me.” Her laugh increased in volume when you put down your bowl to cover your face as she squeezed your fingers. “No, don’t hide! That’s the only time a stranger bumping into me has ever made me happy.”

“Then I’m honored to be the first.”

“And hopefully the last,” she joked as you pulled away from your hand to meet her eyes again. “So I have a question. Did Pietro pass your test for Mia? Because she passed mine.”

“He did pass and I knew it!” you shouted as you poked an accusatory finger in her chest.

“You didn’t know!”

“I did, because I was literally doing the same thing.”

“I guess great minds think alike,” she teased as she lifted your hands to place a kiss on your knuckles.

Her hands were on your hips, digging into your side with an intensity that you’d never felt from her before, and you weren’t sure you liked it. Of course you knew by now that you were into girls, but the way she pulled you against her felt wrong in a way that you couldn’t figure out until her lips pressed against yours, and you tasted her last drink.

“Stop.” You pulled away until her arms fell by her side and you avoided her eyes. “I don’t want to do this, and I don’t think you do either.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” she argued as she reached for you again, and you slapped her hands away as you looked into her eyes.

“You’re drunk!”

“So? I want to kiss you even more when I’m sober.”

“Okay, let’s get you home.” You grabbed her arm and tightened your grip when she tried to pull away. “I’m not leaving here until you get in the car.”

“You’re such a fucking mom,” she grumbled as she reluctantly followed you to the old Dodge Durango you used for transportation. “I can’t believe I kissed your old ass.”

You simply closed the car door behind her with a sigh and used the time it took to walk around the car to gather your thoughts. Now that you had time to process it, she’d been hinting for a while that she had a crush on you, but you thought it was just another thing she was joking about. But she was a sister to you, someone who was there for you when your family wasn’t, and now you might lose her friendship too.

“What took you so long? Were you sick? Maybe you should let someone else drive so you’ll be free to kiss me before we go home. Or you could sleep at my house and we--”

“I didn’t drink because I knew you would,” you explained as you pulled away from the curb and started driving toward her house. “And I’d rather sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Fine, I guess we can fuck there, too.”

“I’m not fucking you!” you snapped as you faced her at a stop sign. “I wanted to wait until you were sober to have a mature conversation about this, but I’m not into you in that--”

“What the fuck do you know about a mature conversation? Y/N, I don’t care that you don’t like me. The problem is that I don’t think you ever did!”

“What are you talking about?” you hesitantly ask, knowing you shouldn’t get into this now, but curiosity got the better of you. “You’ve been my best friend since I learned how to write my own name.”

“Was I? Or was I just some project you’ve been working on to put on your college applications?”

“You’ve helped me more than I helped you! Whatever, I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“You never want to talk about anything, that’s your problem.”

“I’m not doing this with you,” you told her as you turned back to the road, and she groaned loudly.

“Of course you’re not. Why don’t I save both of us the trouble and just d--”

Her sentence was cut short when another truck slammed into you as you passed through the intersection, luckily hitting the door behind yours instead of you and unluckily sending you sideways toward a pole. The force of the crash caused the window to break, and you tried not to panic for her sake when you noticed the blood beginning to pour from the tiny gashes caused by shards of glass. Your heartbeat seemed to block out any other sound as it pounded loudly in your ears, and you rushed to take off your seatbelt and rip off your shirt to hand to her.

“I can’t hold it, Y/N. My arm is stuck,” she whimpered and you helped her guide her left arm to hold the shirt to the right side of her face.

“Just hold it there as long as you can, okay? I’m going to call for help.” You grabbed your phone from your pocket and cursed quietly when it wouldn’t turn on. “My battery’s dead. Where’s yours?”

“I don’t know,” she choked out as she began sobbing. “I think I dropped it at the party, or something...I’m sorry--”

“It’s okay, just breathe. Um…” You turned to see the other car not far from you, flinching slightly when you noticed the driver was passed out. “I’m going to see if that guy has a phone.”

“Wait, no! Y/N, don’t leave me! I don’t want to die alone!”

“You’re not going to die, but your injuries could get worse the longer we wait!”

“No, Y/N, please!”

Her sobs and calls of your name followed you as you got out of the car and made your way to the other car with slightly blurry vision, and you thanked whoever was listening that the window was down. You were just about to reach for his phone in the cupholder when he grabbed your wrist, causing you to scream and try to yank your hand away as he turned his head and opened his eyes.

“Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.”

You opened your eyes with a gasp, fighting to catch your breath as you sat up and stopping yourself from jumping out of bed when Wanda placed her hand on your back.

“Hey, it’s just me.”

“Sorry, I just...sorry,” you apologized breathlessly as you closed your eyes again and attempted to surrender to the gentle touch of slow circles she rubbed against your shirt.

“It’s okay, babe. It was just a dream,” she assured you and you almost laughed, because you really wish it was that simple.

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @cristin-rjd @slut-for-nat @honeyvenable @creepingwolfberry @stickystudentlightmug @choni-trimberly @thedragonzland @dylxn-lee @cordeliaswhore @ravvakin96 @leximills2004

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x fem! reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #the avengers #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel

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cacophony-of-notions · 3 years

Text

My feelings on a common misconception interpretation of Sam in “Slice Girls”:

TL;DR Sam did not kill Emma as “revenge” and Dean was not ethically inconsistent in his actions with Emma versus Amy.

I have seen many times people claim that Sam killed Emma as “revenge” for Amy. I have seen both his antis and his hardcore stans say this (the latter as a means of “justifying” a decision Sam made that they traditionally wouldn’t stand behind… regardless of the fact that killing a kid to get revenge on his brother would paint him in a far worse light than taking the situation at face-value).

In the same way that Dean killed Amy because he legitimately thought it was the right call, Sam killed Emma because he legitimately thought it was the right call. That’s it. Hate both of their decisions, agree with one but not the other, agree with neither… no matter what, I don’t think wanting “revenge” and taking that out on a child had anything to do with Sam’s actions. There are a few reasons why.

First, looking at the context of the season as a whole, Sam has been worried about Dean’s mental state for most of the season in much the same way that Dean has been worried about his, and accordingly, they didn't trust each other’s judgment fully.

Dean killing Amy was to some extent, about not trusting Sam’s judgement due to his attachment to Amy and the metal state Sam had been in that season. Sam had been hallucinating and had also lied about it. So on top of not being sure if Sam could accurately grasp reality at any given time, him hiding it also made it very difficult for Dean to trust Sam to be honest if he was hallucinating, needed help, or needed to take a step back.

Sam’s decision to kill Emma was, likewise, to some extent, about not trusting Dean’s judgement due to his natural attachment to Emma as a father and Dean’s mental state that season. We see, on several occasions in season 7, Sam noting that Dean is drinking more alcohol than usual (which is saying something). Several times in the season, Sam expresses concern over this, to Bobby as well as to Dean directly. Sam’s lack of confidence in Dean is actually enough that, when Dean begins to notice things moving from where he left them and starts to suspect that Bobby is haunting them, Sam repeatedly and flippantly dismisses his observations and chalks all of it up to Dean drinking too much and grieving too hard and being an unreliable witness.

Second, Sam and Dean came to an understanding about Amy in “The Mentalist”, and Sam ended up saying at the end of the episode that Dean’s actions made sense, and that he was right that Sam’s judgement couldn’t be trusted because he was too close to the situation emotionally.

Season 7’s “The Mentalist” covers the confrontation between Sam and Dean over Amy, and Sam’s decision to work side by side with Dean again. There are two scenes—the initial blow up from Sam and Dean’s rebuttal, and then the resolution at the end of the episode.

First the initial blow up and Dean’s rebuttal:

Dean: We agreed to work the case. We didn’t agree for you to be a dick the whole time.

Sam: What?

Dean: You’re pissed. Okay? And you’ve got a right.

Sam: Yeah, damn straight.

Dean: But enough’s enough.

Sam: Says who? Look, I’ll work this damn case, but you lied to me, and you killed my friend.

Dean: No, I put down a monster who killed four people, and if you didn’t know her, you’d have done the same thing.

Sam: I did know her, Dean.

Dean: Yeah, which is why you couldn’t do it. Look, I get it. There are certain people in this world, no matter how dangerous they are, you just can’t.

Sam: Don’t pull that card! That’s bull! Look, if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that if something feels wrong, it probably is!

Dean: Usually, yeah. But killing Amy was not wrong. You couldn’t do it, so I did. That’s what family does—the dirty work. And I would have told you eventually, once I knew that this whole “waving a gun at Satan” thing was a one-time show. I think it’s reasonable to want to know that you’re off the friggin’ high dive, Sam. You almost got us both killed. So you can be pissed all you want, but quite being a bitch.

Then there was the resolution at the end of the episode:

Sam: Look, you know what... you were right—about Amy. If she was just any monster, I’m not sure I could have let her walk away. I dunno. I mean, I’ll never know.

Dean: What are you saying?

Sam: What I’m saying is… I get why you did it. You were just trying to make sure no one else got hurt. But here’s the thing: you can’t just look me in the face and tell me you’re fine. I mean, you’re not sleeping, you drink for the record-

Dean: Oh here we go…

Sam: Look, whatever. Last one to preach. I know. But… just be honest with me. How are those the actions of someone who knows they did the right thing?

Dean: You want me to be honest?

Sam: Yeah.

Dean: I went with my gut. And that felt right. I didn’t trust her, Sam. Of course, ever since Cas, I’m having trouble trusting anybody. And as far as how I’ve been acting… I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I don’t like lying to you. You know, it doesn’t feel right. So yeah, you got me there. I’ve been climbing the walls.

Third, in context, when Sam brings up Amy in the car, it is to say Dean choked with Emma in the same way that Sam choked with Amy and it could have gotten him killed—not that killing Emma was somehow vengeance for Amy. See the conversation at the end of “Slice Girls”:

Sam: What did you say to me... when I was the one who choked? What did you say about Amy? “You said you kill the monster”!

Dean: I was going to!

Sam: Oh, like hell you were! You think I’m an idiot?

Dean: What you think I am?!

Sam: Dean, you were gonna let her walk!

Dean: No I wasn’t. That’s ridiculous!

Sam: Look, man, she was not yours. Not really.

Dean: Actually, she, uh, she was, really. She just also happened to be a crazy man-killing monster. But uh, hey-

Sam: You know what? Bobby was right. Your head’s not in it, man. When Cas died, you were wobbly, but now...

Dean: Now what? Oh what, you’re dealing with it so perfect? Yeah, news flash, pal. You’re just as screwed up as I am! You’re just... bigger.

Sam: What?!

Dean: I don't know!

Sam: Look... Dean, the thing is, tonight... it almost got you killed. Now, I don’t care how you deal. I really, really don’t. But just don’t... don’t get killed.

In no way does Sam suggest here that Dean “deserved” to have his kid shot in front of him as some kind of “payback”. In fact, that doesn't really make sense

In the context of the conversation in “The Mentalist, where Sam said he understood why Dean felt the way he did about Amy.

It also doesn’t make sense in the context fo Sam’s comment that Emma “wasn’t really yours”. If he did it to hurt Dean, he would have pressed into that relationship, not dismissed it.

He lectured Dean because he was scared Dean wouldn't have been able to pull the trigger and would have gotten himself killed. It’s the same “are you off the high-dive?” lecture Dean gave him, it’s the same “I did the dirty work for you because you couldn’t”. The shot Sam took wasn’t hesitant, but it also wasn’t emotional. It was calculated and ruthless. It was a choice Sam made, that Emma could not be trusted. He made that call. And maybe he was right—maybe the brainwashing went too deep, and Emma would have come after Dean again if they let her go (which is probably what Sam was really worried about—that she would have gone after Dean again and gotten the drop on him or he wouldn’t have shot her), or maybe she would have come after someone else. Maybe Sam was wrong, and Emma could have been persuaded away from life in a cult. We can say the same about Dean killing Amy. All they had was her word that she wouldn't kill again. And yet, if her son got sick again, it seems reasonable to assume she’d go on another killing spree. Maybe Dean was right to kill her, maybe he was wrong.

Other notes:

[1] Sam misses a certain detail when he compares Dean’s actions with Emma to his own situation with Amy. Sam only compares the two situation by virtue of him or Dean choking due to an attachment to the “monster” in question. However, there’s a distinction between the two kills that is important within Dean’s personal ethical framework, while it’s not necessarily important within Sam’s... to the point that Sam doesn't really see this distinction at all (in fact, he may not know about it). Namely, Emma had never killed anyone before while Amy had killed four people. Dean’s actions in both situations are actually ethically consistent—which is another misconception in fandom. From Dean’s framework, Emma and Amy are not the same. Emma and Amy’s son are the same. We see the distinction Dean draws between Amy and her son in “The Girl Next Door”: Dean kills Amy but lets her son go because he’s never killed anyone. He doesn’t rescind that even after Amy’s son tells Dean he’s going to come after him eventually and kill him. Dean treats Emma in the exact same way. He tells her he would let her walk away because she’s never killed anyone, and he doesn’t rescind the offer even if it seems like she still might try to come after him again. This is also consistent with how Dean treated Bobby John in Season 6 “Two and a Half Men”, Jack in Season 4 “Metamorphosis”, and Madison in Season 2 “Heart”.

[2] When he kills Amy, Dean is notedly dealing with trust issues that he himself acknowledges, after what happened with Cas. He trusted Cas implicitly even when Bobby and Sam doubted him, and he got burned, and it shook his ability to trust in anyone (see Sam’s “wobbly” talk above”). Killing Amy is a part of that, according to Dean’s own perceptions.

[3] To a certain extent, it might even be said that Sam and Dean aren't just wary of trusting each other’s judgement, but also wary of trusting themselves. For example, “You kill the monster” is a hardline stance that’s unusual for Sam and that is rejected by both brothers as early as Season 2 “Bloodlust”. But because Sam doesn’t trust himself at that point in time, and also does not trust Dean’s judgement either, he does what he thinks is “safe” when his own mind is half shredded and he has a depressed and alcoholic brother who he’s afraid is going to let a monster kid murder him one day (be it Emma or Amy’s son). If he were to let Emma go and worse came to worse, Sam doesn’t feel he can rely on Dean to defend himself from her, and he doesn’t know what his own mind state is going to be like in the future. So he does what’s “safe” for them both. In the same way, Dean’s actions with Amy could be viewed as him choosing what’s “safe”.

#dean winchester #sam winchester #spn 7.03 #spn 7.07 #spn 7.13 #the slice girls #the mentalist #the girl next door #fandom misconceptions

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disgustinggf · 3 years

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Okay so, I'm a Leo and till 4 days ago I was talking with a Scorpio guy that I met on Tinder (we've been talking for almost 2 months). He wasn't a human case like most of them there and me being bi and preferring women, it was a surprise honestly. We talked for a good amount of days and than we moved to IG and kept talking there. Long story short, things got heated and it was more than clear that we were both very attracted to eachother and wanted to meet up and y'know, do the business or f around for the moment since I still haven't had my first time and I do it in a car for the first time didn't really excited me that much.

We were talking about it and than I decided to make things clear and said something like "lemme just say: if you hurt me in some way, do something without asking me first or don't stop when I tell you to, imma bite you thing off." and okay, it wasn't that cool of me to say that like that, and he didn't like it at all and said to me smth like "if you're afraid of that then we should part ways now, I've never acted weird with you" and I told him it wasn't because of him because he really seemed like a nice guy, but I just wanted to be sure seeing my past experiences, but then he ignored me for a few hours and when he came back he told me that he didn't like what I said before (the bite thing) and I was like "yeah, I admit it wasn't cool of me, but I also didn't really liked your answer". Woke up the next day and found out he left me on read and had just blocked me.

Now I'm just like.. did I do something that wrong to get this treatment? Should I even try to do something about it? Cause I know his name and can always reach to him on FB, especially because my Leo proud is still raging inside for a proper confrontation, but my rational side tells me it's not worth it and so does my best friend (she knows the whole story ofc).

So now I'm just in need of some more advice and povs, I don't want this thing to end like this even if I wasn't emotionally attached yet, but at the same time I need to be stopped before I do something stupid so like.. help? Please?? I don't really don't what I'm supposed to do, move on and forget or go kick some ass. lol

since u guys knew each other for awhile, i'd say it's quite weird of him to just block u instead of talking things out, especially since u apologised. in my opinion, just leave things where they are. if someone gets this hurt (?) over u saying u won't be afraid to stand up for urself if he does anything without ur consent, god knows what'd happen if u two actually had a fight or something. i think no one should get mad at someone for saying consent is important even if it wasn't worded in a nice way. a man should realise how scary it is to be a woman and to meet up with people u met online. if he understood that, he wouldn't have taken this to heart. i think u shouldn't do anything, it's up to him if he wants to unblock u but i'd be careful if i were u because a man shouldn't get mad at a woman saying she is willing to stand up for herself if anything unconsentual happens.

#i'm the same way though #i'll make it clear to anyone i'm with that if anything is done without my consent #i'll literally end them #and if someone gets mad it just shows that they don't understand that women have to be careful with any man they meet #asks

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vexillumalbum · 4 years

Note

Hello! Whenever you do open requests, could you do the Insecure MC headcanons with Lucien and Victor as well? They’re my favorites so I’d really appreciate it. Loved those headcanons with Kiro and Gavin!

Hello to you too Anon! I struggled a bit with writing these so they can be a bit off. I hope you’ll forgive me.

Victor’s HC I treated a little too personal (let’s say I’m in a similar situation as MC is here, because my partner is “wealthy” and I am not as much and when I tell you some rich people are ruthless... yeah they are) so I got a little carried away. I then tried to rewrite it but it just got worse so I decided to post it like that.

As to Lucien - I don’t know him very well. I only have a few of his karmas, and I played only two of his dates. I do not dislike him, he is just not my type in otome games.

With that being said I hope you’ll still be able to enjoy these HCs. Have a great day/night and please stay safe!

*slight spoilers*

“You are gorgeous* with Victor and Lucien:

Victor

“Are you okay in there?” A deep voice from behind the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You quickly wiped your face with a towel, which you then threw into a basket of dirty laundry and looked in the mirror, hoping that you would not see a tearful woman with red eyes and swollen cheeks.

There is a reason, however, that they say hope is the mother of fools.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Give me a minute!” Your voice almost cracked and it took everything in you not to start crying again. You grabbed another towel, soaked it in cold water and started to vigorously tap it on your face to make the puffiness disappear.

On the other side of the door was standing very worried Victor with his brows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line. He wasn’t deaf, he heard your sobs coming out of the bathroom a while ago and immediately wanted to know what’s wrong but knew you would not tell him right away. So leaned on the wall next to the door and waited for you to enter your shared bedroom.

Paler than a few minutes earlier you finally walked out with a tight smile plastered on your face. You rubbed your still-a-little-shaky hands on your silk robe to occupy them with something and get rid of the feeling of overwhelming nervousness.

♪ Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know ♪ (I’m sorry, I got carried away)

“Who are you trying to fool?” He knew. Of course he knew.

“I’m tired, Victor. Can we please go to bed?”

“Not unless you tell me what’s bothering you.” He was giving you The Look™. This icy glare that he used at work that was basically saying „do as I say” and that every LFG employee was afraid of. You’ve seen The Look™ so many times now it didn’t bother you anymore but Victor didn’t even flinch when you tried to push past him in order to get to the bed. He was stubborn and you were sick and tired of your own thoughts so you gave in.

Being the girlfriend of one of the most influential people in the country (*cough* the whole world *cough*) brought many advantages. Fancy business meetings, cruises on private yachts, beautiful views from hotel windows when you were traveling together for business trips. Not to mention how much love Victor gave you and how much he did for you privately, behind closed doors, where he showed you his tender loving side.

But it also had many downsides. The people you two were mingling with were refined, elegant, sometimes you could even say stuck-up. And you felt like you didn’t belong there. Hell, you knew you didn’t.

Everything was a race between them. Who drove a better car, who had more investments, who knew more languages, who graduated from better university. Where was your place in this picture?

You weren’t stupid, you were the boss of your own company, you were extremely strong-willed and dutiful, you worked hard, but somehow you still didn’t see yourself worthy of being Victor’s partner.

In addition, there was the fact that Victor had little time for you - which of course you understood, he could not put his duties aside because of your whims - but somewhere inside you were still a bit upset.

Your boyfriend didn't know how to react. From the first day of your acquaintance, he saw you as someone confident, brave, not worried about failures, but only going forward. You managed to convince him HIM to give you and your company a chance. Never in a million years would he had guessed that under your tough exterior lay so many insecurities.

He held your shaking body in a tight embrace occasionally giving you a kiss on the crown of your head partially to calm you down and partially to calm himself down. He treated the fact that because of the self-doubt you brought yourself to the state where you cried when locked in a bathroom alone, as a private failure.

Now he had to make up for every time he weren’t there with you. For you.

You were used to lonely evenings spent in front of the TV with your favorite pudding (which compensated his absence a bit). So you were very surprised when a few days later he announced that from now on two evenings a week you would be obligated to spend together doing whatever you would like to.

Watching TV, playing piano, eating, having sex. You named it - he was down for it.

At banquets, when he saw your eyes begin to waver, he hugged you closer to his side or squeezed your hand a bit harder. He made you understand that he was next to you and did not intend to leave you. So you better not leave him

Oh, and if someone tried to offend you or your intelligence/appearance/mannerisms/whatever…

He would be with you in a minute and with the help of The Look™and his CEO voice he would let the poor thing know that the only person with whom something was wrong in the room was them.

Victor was not very good at comforting you with words, but his actions expressed more than a thousand of them.

When you felt the need for self-pity, he brought you a cup of your favorite tea, covered your body with a blanket and hugged to himself, leaning your head against his sturdy chest. This way he made sure that you weren't alone with your problems. Sometimes he was also combing your hair with his fingers humming a melody he knew you loved, because you were constantly playing it on the piano. Like a parent calming their child down.

“Victor, thank you.” You said one time, your voice tired.

“Sleep, dummy. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He once lost you. He wasn’t going to risk it happening again. You were definitely the love of his life, the only person he would ever wait for. So if he had to wait for you to love yourself properly, so be it.

Lucien

The spark of joy disappeared from your eyes some time ago.

Lucien was a researcher, an observer, he knew when changes to your behavior occurred. He noticed them right away.

How you were sabotaging yourself when something good happened to you. How you were dragging down all your accomplishments. How you became even harder on yourself to the point when you were falling asleep in different places because you were so fatigued.

You were physically and emotionally drained but you kept going anyway cause if you stop, insecurities would eat you alive.

“When are you going to tell me what’s been on your mind lately, butterfly?” A simple question asked during breakfast when he put a cup of chamomile tea in front of you made you almost choke on eggs you were currently chomping.

“Whatever you mean, Lucien…”

“I thought you were the one who said that a healthy relationship is based on honesty and openness. Weren’t you?”

This man. Seriously.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested in that matter.”

“On the contrary. I am interested in about everything regarding your person.”

At that point you were sure he was aware of a mess you had inside your head. He gave it away by the way he grabbed your hand and wrapped his long fingers around yours, to later bring them to his lips and kiss each knuckle. It was a tender gesture, one he often did to lift your spirits.

You didn't quite want to explain everything to him, uncover all of your insecurities, but when he looked at you as penetrating as if he wanted to expose your soul as gently as possible, you couldn't refuse him.

He held your hand all the time, didn’t let it go even when you rested your head on his shoulder while weeping.

To say that it broke Lucien's heart is an understatement. He knew everything he heard from you that morning. He had all this information, and yet to hear from you how much you did not believe in yourself, how much you loathed yourself, was a blow to him.

All he could do was gradually try to get you out of your bubble. He wanted to replace all that ugliness that you wore inside with something beautiful.

Step one: A healthy mind in a healthy body. Who was supposed to know it better than a doctor?

As you struggled with drooping eyelids trying to perfect another report, which was impossible, Lucien's strong arms gently pulled you away from the desk and led you towards the bed. After several times, you even stopped protesting.

Chamomile tea has always been provided to you in stressful situations. Lucien even instructed Anna to prepare this tea for you at the company where he had no possibility of being.

Your boyfriend attached great importance to what you ate because it was a well-known fact that people with a diet rich in vitamins and omega-3 had a better mood. Oh no, no more junk food

Step two: exhibitions, galleries, theater, cinema, stargazing, watching the skylights, amusement park.

Between research and teaching at the university, Lucien took you to all the places you could have thought of. He took the replacement of ugliness with beauty quite literally.

Your favorite place was a temporary butterfly exhibition at the Natural Museum, because there your boyfriend led you from a display case to a display case and was telling you passionately every interesting fact he knew about different species. How unguarded he became there was amusing but also very sweet.

“Did you know that this butterfly pups quite late and its wings are slightly smaller than the rest of the butterflies living in this area? This does not prevent him from being the most beautiful and useful of all of them.” He said pointing with one hand to one of the insects while the other was drawing small circles on the small of your back.

Did he just compared you to a butterfly?

Step three: a good ol’ love-making.

This man thought that if it doesn't reach you normally, it will hit you how wonderful you are through various positions in bed. Not only in bed

Good luck walking for the next few days

You gave Lucien’s life color, showed him that living with someone who cared about him and loved him was far better, happier. He was going to repay that favor now.

____________________________________________________

thank you so much for reading!

if you want to read more of my works they are here

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin #mlqc kiro #mr love queen's choice #mr. love queen's choice #mlqc fluff #requests

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queenjunoking · 3 years

Text

Wolf Taming Pt 31

CW: Noncon - Shock Collar - Pain - Petplay - Drugs - Kidnapping - Manipulation - Abuse

(Note: On Z’s half of the story more heavy abuse will be seen. I will be putting the tag in bold when it’s relevant)

Briar

I watched as Z poked despondently at the french toast I made her while I made some calls. It was difficult to say Z was an emotional person. An outright lie to say she was an emotionally healthy one. But I had rarely seen her shut down like this. In a way it was better than the alternative. I was sure if I hadn’t said anything she’d be walking all the way over to Eos’s farm with a knife. I doubt she’d even bother to put shoes on.

“Z, please eat your food.” She looked up at me like she was just registering that I was there before going back to poking at it. I sighed and looked at the pile of energy drinks in her recycling bin. I started making a list of basic things she needed; I was disappointed to see that her fridge was nearing empty. I doubt she had any intention to go to the store anytime soon, she didn’t even have a car.

“Briar?” A voice came over my phone.

“Yes Van, I’m here.” Van was strange by Society standards. He was more interested in the laws and rules that governed the group. He never attended events. I’m not even sure he owned anyone. But he knew more about the rules than anyone that wasn’t at the top of the organization. I had to cash in an emblem just to talk to him.

“Bad news or good news?” I could hear him hesitate.

“Let’s start with the bad news. I could really use some good news to look forward too.” I didn’t like that there was bad news at all.

“Ok, so Mistress Eos’s acquisition seems to be legitimate. She argued that Z does not have the capacity to train Callidora-” I interrupted him.

“Sasha. Z named her Sasha.” It would be easier for everyone I dealt with to go by the name Z gave her. I didn’t really know what her reaction would be to people calling her Callidora if she could overhear them.

“Right. Sorry. So she argued that Z was in immediate danger. She has a video of Sasha attacking her in the garden. She pointed out that Z had no plan or capacity to get Sasha into the basement again if she did not cooperate. Having to give away an emblem in order to get her back downstairs did not help her case. I did some less legitimate digging and found she has an extended video which shows Z… um… pleasuring herself shortly after the incident.”

Admittedly I blush a bit at that and had to stop myself from asking to see the full video. Z never seemed like a very sexual person. Never any toys in her room when we were breakers. She seemed pretty desensitized to what she did to people. I occasionally caught a smile on her face when she did something but she did her best to hide it. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was a masochist as well as a sadist. She was unfortunately very good at hurting people.

“So is there anything we can do to resolve this in an easy way?”

“The short answer is no. There’s nothing illegal about what she did. Its rushed but the argument that Z was in immediate danger justifies it.” I heard him sigh.

“And the long answer?” There had to be something.

“Well the long answer is the good news. Maybe. Someone who is a high enough rank could challenge her. Eos is a fairly high ranked person but someone of higher rank could… make enough members of the council reconsider their decision. You’d need to do that before an appeal could be put in. You need someone with enough standing. A higher rank than Eos. An epithet would help their case. It’s going to be several days of work before you can get her back.”

Several days is what I didn’t really have. Z was on the edge of doing this in the only way she was able to process it at the moment. If I didn’t chain her to a bed tonight I knew she was going to walk off the moment she was out of my sight. I was fairly good at the job i used to have but I couldn’t get someone to process their emotions in a healthy way in just a few hours.

“Thanks Van, you’ve been very helpful. I think I have an idea of what to do.”

“No problem Briar. I hope things go well for you two.” The line went silent as he hung up.

I sighed. I knew exactly what to do. Or what not to do. Satori told me who took Z’s emblem. They’d be knocking at the door eventually to cash it in. There was nothing that needed to be done until then. I walked back into the kitchen to check on Z.

She was still poking at her food, nothing more than a few nibbles removed. I sighed and placed a glass of juice next to her. Something other than that concoction of chemicals she drank in semi-lethal amounts.

“Is it legitimate?” Z looked up at me. I couldn’t answer her. But she got the message. “What am I supposed to do? I told her I’d get her back. She trusted me.”

“We’ll figure it out.” I started cleaning up the kitchen. The food went to waste but I wasn’t going to make her eat right now. I decided to make an ironic compromise with myself. I opened one of the energy drinks and slipped a pill inside before I handed it to her. She took it from my hand and began sipping from it. After two minutes she slumped over. I didn’t feel great about doing it, but she needed to get some kind of sleep.

I picked her up and moved her to the couch. I sat on the floor next to her and petted her head. Z was always on the defensive when she was awake. But she looked so sweet when she was asleep.

The Society was probably the worst place Z could have ever ended up. The most damaging parts of her personality were encouraged here. Her occasional violent tendencies and her general lack of empathy. Z thought she understood empathy. She always thought she was doing the kind thing. Z was someone who needed help of some kind, it wasn’t just the everyday sociopathy of the Society that weighed on her.

I knew Z would either keep spiraling into a depression or she’d become violent and go after Eos. Instead she’d sleep for the next few hours. The messenger would have to come today.

The next few hours I spent cleaning and organizing. Throwing out the mountain of cans, arranging the cabinets and cleaning up the pile of tools in the Wolf’s Den. Small things to make the house nicer. Z had been asleep for two hours by the time the doorbell rang. I stopped what I was doing and answered it.

A maid stood on Z’s doorstep. I knew exactly who she belonged to. The light was gone from her eyes. I saw scars and bruises littered her body. Her impeccable latex uniform contrasted with her battered body. She was carrying a letter.

This was one of Rayne’s maids.

She looked up at me and spoke softly.

“Good evening Miss Briar. Is Miss Z the Torturer home?”

“Please don’t call her that, hun.”

“I’m sorry Miss Briar. I have been instructed by Master Rayne to address anyone with an epithet by their epithet.” I saw her body shake slightly, she was terrified that she thought she upset me. “If my behavior was unacceptable please let Master Rayne know so she may correct me.”

I hated Rayne with a passion. Everything she did to people. There were no short of truly terrible people in the society. But Rayne? She was pure evil. But she was an evil we needed to get help from.

“No sweetheart, everything is fine. I’m not going to tell anyone. You aren’t in any trouble. Just go with Miss ok?”

She visibly relaxed. “I have been instructed to deliver this message to Miss Z myself. May I please come in?”

“....Z? Z honey, wake up. You have a visitor.” I distorted voice pulled me from my sleep.

“Sasha?” I shot up, feeling slightly light headed. I looked over and saw Briar kneeling next to the couch, a maid was standing by the counter.

“No Z. You have a message.” Briar helped me sit up, the dizziness hadn’t cleared away yet.

“What?” She looked annoyed at the newcomer, I had had enough messages for the day.

“Good evening Miss Z. My owner, Master Raynes, has requested your presence tonight at her mansion. It is her wife’s birthday and she wishes for you to attend.”

“What if I don’t want to attend their stupid party?”

The maid was getting nervous. If Z didn’t attend there was really no way of knowing how Rayne would blame her.

“I apologize Miss Z. Master Rayne has requested that you read this.” She handed me a letter.

Greetings Z,

Its been a long time since we last spoke. I believe the last time was when I passed my epithet on to you. I really thought you'd be more grateful for that, its not often someone of my rank recommends someone like you for such an honor.

I'm sure you're very aware that my wife, Flora, was a big fan of your wares. She was quite devastated when you quit your work as a breaker. Today is her birthday and I would like you to attend. Getting to speak to the person who made her favorite art supplies would be a wonderful present for her and I'm sure she would love to show you what she's done with the materials.

If my humble request isn't enough to convince you to come please look at the photograph attached to this letter.

We will see you at 4 P.M. sharp. Do not worry about clothes, I'm aware you dress very plainly. We will have party clothes for you. If you do not have transportation let the maid know and we will send transport.

- Master Rayne

I looked at the photo. I saw Rayne, tall with short black curly hair. She was sitting on a gold throne with red cushions. She was using some slavegirl as a foot stool. Her body was littered with cuts and bruises.

Another was bound to next to the throne. Currently unmarred. Arms bound behind her, breasts on display. A blindfold covered her eyes. She had a utility gag in her mouth, it was a coaster gag. I could tell she was struggling to hold Rayne's drink up. I could see the tears streaming below the blindfold, glistening in the photo. I was sure shortly after this picture was taken she would have dropped it. I'm sure by now she was no longer unblemished. Rayne would have taught her a very harsh lesson.

Rayne was rich enough to buy a slave to use for no other reason to use it as a coaster, break it beyond repair and buy a replacement. I hated her so much. It took a few seconds of scanning the picture to see what it was that was supposed to convince me. In her hand, barely visible, was my emblem. She was cashing it in.

"I need to keep looking for Sasha. I don't have time for a stupid party." I saw the maid shake. I'm sure she was thinking about what awaited her as the messenger of my decline. Had she been broken properly she wouldn't have had to worry about that.

Briar was about to say something when the maid shakily spoke up. "M-miss Z. I was standing behind Master Rayne as she wrote the letter. I-I think there's a message on the back of the p-photograph."

P.S. Maybe if you make Flora's night we can talk about your dog.

"Tell Rayne we will be attending."

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wccsik · 3 years

Text

*・°☆━ 『 CHOI SAN. TWENTY-THREE. CORPSE. 』Welcome to Hosu Isle! If you’re here that must mean you have a special quirk! I’m sure you’re confused and tired from traveling but please fill out this simple form! Okay? Great! Let’s get started! I, JUNG WOOSIK, have arrived at Hosu Isle because of my quirk called VENOM! I like to think of myself as someone who is + CHARMING and OUTGOING along with being - PESSIMISTIC and DARING. I solemnly swear to respect all the laws and citizens of the island.

[ TW : DRUGS MENTION ; PHYSICAL ABUSE ; GANG RELATED ]

Born in Gangnam, SK

His entire family ran with being affiliated with the gang

Raised around guns and drugs ; stumbled into drugs at the age of thirteen

His environment has definitely defined his upbringing as he was brought into the gang lifestyle and fought his way through to earn his keep as well

Underground fighter and fought for money this way

His father was pretty abusive as he grew up in that household along with his emotionally distant mother, who was more into drugs than her own son. He was a product of the two and more so - a regrettable one in their eyes, until he earned his keep to pay rent by fighting those in an underground club. His uncle was more of prideful that he has a nephew to show things and to do things with - but he never did question or mention of the bruises - as his parents went through similar cycles.

He was out on his own at sixteen when getting jumped with a small group of six for defeating one of their good friends in a few rounds - which got beat up pretty bad that the said friend had to go to the hospital for his very sore - but not broken jaw

He was always a loner and girls flock around him like fleas attracted to dirty fur ; which is why he was never really lonely in spite of that ; also had his fair share of underneath the sheets with some men too, he doesn’t mind either field

He learned of his quirk early in age and never really minded it as it got him out of situations which he chose to stop running from as he got older

He’s very reckless in decision making and he doesn’t give two fucks about most people unless he’s decided on ok this person, i will protect, like Chaos

He’s been on the island for three years now and he’s known most of his way ‘round the island - which is how he got into contact with a filthy doctor in the slums that can give him prescriptions to keep his addiction going steadily ( w/ sexual favors intact )

He’s not used to having good amount of money at one section because as he did, he would run that puppy out with alcohol and good fun, but there was one favorite hobby of his that he would save money for : car racing ; which is something he was also grown good from a young age - thanks to his uncle teaching him to drive at first then watching him as he drove like so

He never had serious relationships and more of just short, open ones as he wasn’t opposed to them ; he just never really.... understood how a serious relationship is like, to feel domesticated and such in that route ; most of them were usually just drug-related, abundance of sex, and merely more of having fun

He’s middle class - which is even more weird for him to have a good home in place and gaining money from the government. he does not trust the government at all - he literally hates them for ripping him from his life, even with the good aspects that comes with it.

Still pretty much of a loner with some friends, but his best friend is Chaos - he can enjoy himself around the other and not hold back as much for reason

Music Inspo for him + personality inspo : Corpse Husband

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Best Friend ; TAKEN BY CHAOS.

Hookups ( Guys / Girls / Nonbin ) ; Self explanatory that we can plot out easily.

Sibling Relationship ; someone he bickers with easily like the two don’t like each other, but grew attached in feeling he should be protective over her like a big brother would be over his little sibling

Drug Buddies ; someone he gets weed from and smokes with - can plot more on this to what they get and so on

Car Racing Buddy ; someone that is also good at car racing and they like to bet between the two on keep testing on who can win or who is better, all in good fun

Neighbors ; someone that either hates him or wonder what he’s like, wondering why his apartment always smells like strong weed and so on

Possible Interest ( Guy / Girl / Nonbin ) ; someone that has caught his eye and intrigues him, but I want this to happen naturally with chem instead of plotting it out, but if you think this could be your bb bean then let’s chat about it and see what could blossom from the two!

Enemies ; Maybe someone he knows from SK that he dislikes or could be someone on the island as well

#quirks:intro #hope you guys love him !! ; o;

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celawrites · 4 years

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Day 11

Mondays. I hate them. Like whoever has the name Monday is an automatic joy kill. I’m not too sure about that fact but I hate Mondays. I’m not sure when I started to have them, but I guess the idea of going to school again after 2 days of rest is just pure annoying.

I skip a proper breakfast today and grab a bag of turtle chips I bought yesterday. Cooking could wait. I start the car and get out of my neighborhood. A call comes in.

Sun is calling…

“My oh my Sun? Whatever could you be calling me at 7:00 for?”

“Can you drive me to school today?”

“Are your parents not home?”

“No, it’s just my brother had a morning class today and took the car with my parents”

“So you’re home alone?”

“Essentially”

“Send me your address. Do it quickly too, I was about to get on the freeway”

“Sent”

“Alright~, See you later! Love you!”

“I literally haven’t said I like you back yet and you’re already saying you love me?”

“I say it to everyone darling. I like you is my term of endearment, because love you sounds more natural after a conversation”

“You make no sense”

“Neither do my grades”

“Alright see you in 5”

“See you”

The drive to his house is. Chaotic. I’m having a crisis comprehending that he would call me of all people to carpool with. Pebble had a car, lived closer to him, and he probably could’ve carpooled with her? But then again he doesn’t like her that much. Probably because I’m tolerable or something. What if he likes me back? No! That is the most irrational thought I’ve ever had wtf. Who in their right mind would like me? My thoughts are interrupted when I end up at his house.

“Get in loser, we’re going to school”

“Sounds boring.”

“Says our Valedictorian”

“Will you stop calling me that?”

“Mm. No”

“Remind me why I decided to ask you to drive me to school again?”

“Because you loooooove meeeee” A look of disgust from him.

“I’m joking. Because I’m the only tolerable one in our class”

“Pretty much yeah”

“So. Got your eyes on any of our juniors?”

“No I’m not attracted to any of them. I have decided my last crush was enough”

“Oh come on. Clinging onto the past isn’t good for your mental health you know”

“Says the one who still can’t let her feelings go”

“oK IN MY DEFENSE I GREW EXTREEMLY EMOTIONALLY ATTACHED TO HIM”

“Clinging onto the pAsT iSnT gOOD fOR yOUr MEnTaL HEAltH yOU kNoW”

“Stop quoting me!”

“Wise words from someone who doesn’t even follow them”

“I’ve been attacked. Remind me to never drive you to school again”

“Does that mean you’ll finally stop texting me at 3am to go to McDonalds with you?”

“Nope. 3am and 7am hit different. They don’t vibe the same”

“You make no sense”

“Good to know you finally caught my vibe”

“Remind me how you managed to publish a book?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did sometimes”

“How’d you even publish one?”

“I ran a blog. Which no one at our school knows about, and someone contacted me to publish the story I was writing”

“I’ll make a mental note to find your writing blog”

“Have fun trying”

“You use the same username for literally everything, it’s funny how you think I won’t be able to find it”

“. you got me there”

“I could always text your public school friends and ask them about it”

“Only one of them follow the blog. And like the rest of them don’t even know about what I do”

“Why?”

“The Canadian friend. The last time I went to visit him, he asked me if they were really my friends. I had told him about how they told everyone my secrets”

“Ah. Well.”

I look at him in the corner of my eye.

“I know I may be emotionally constipated.”

“pFFt”

“Let me finish. But I really wanna repay you for being there for me when I needed someone. So if you have any successes or things you wanna vent about. Uh. You can come to me?”

“I’m touched. This is why our school questions our friendship”

“Because you’re the only girl I hang out with?”

“Yeah. You’re such a softie too!” I coo. “I wonder what our classmates would say if they found out that you’re so emotionally vulnerable!”

“I would never hear the end of it”

“But honestly. I feel like all the students in our school tend to put up a facade. No one ever mentions having anxiety or being anxious or paranoid about things. I only found out about that vulnerable side when I had left”

“Being anxious is normal. It would be unrealistic to be emotionally stable”

“You’re only saying that because you’re emotionally unstable. I honestly think you’d be more stable if you had a girlfriend or something”

“You’d let me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Only if it’s me~” I laugh immediately after.

“Hopeless romantic as always”

“hEy! LEt me live in my fiction!”

“Whatever floats with you”

“I’d rather drown-”

“Your humor has gotten so dark-”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Yours”

“No my dad’s”

“Your dad?”

“My public school one. The father figure that I lack”

“I was gonna say. I didn’t take you for one who would get a boyfriend”

“Ok. No one wants to date me. I’ll just end up as the cat lady”

“If you do end up getting a cat, I call dibs on naming them”

“No. My precious baby” I pout. The school is in view now.

“You don’t even have a cat yet?”

“Still. My precious baby”

“You’re boring”

“Mm” I hum in agreement. I’m parking the car at this point. It’s 7:25 and we arrived at our normal time. He wasn’t one for a morning snack, and I wasn’t particularly hungry either.

“Are you not going to go grab breakfast?”

“Why would I?”

“You literally had a bag of chips for breakfast”

“So? It’s not like I’m gonna pass out from lack of nutrients or something”

“It’s not good for your health”

“When has my health ever mattered”

“Since now. Swap seats with me I’ll take you to Starbucks for a sandwich or something”

“No”

“What do you want?”

“You-” I cackle and he flushes red. “I’m jOKING JKSFGW I’M SORRY SUN”

“Ok but what do you actually want”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Even if I take you to Paul’s Place?”

“hHHHHH. I’m not h-hungry”

“Let’s go. We can walk over”

“We literally have like 20 minutes. That’s not nearly enough time to grab food”

“Then you’ll let me raid our school’s kitchen. There has to be some sort of leftover food there”

“You’re telling me to whAT?”

“I know you have the keys to every room at school. Don’t think I didn’t see you asking the principal for them so you could arrive here at 5am in the morning huddling in a classroom for vibes”

“I’m hurt”

“Open the kitchen for me. I’ll make you a sandwich or something”

“Aww. You’re gonna cook for me?”

“Would you rather do it yourself?”

“I’d rather starve”

“I-. You’re insufferable”

“Thanks, I get that a lot”

“What do you want for breakfast”

“A hug”

“That’s illegal”

“nO THE CONTRACT JUST SAID NO DATING I HAVE A PHOTO HH”

“No hugs until you eat breakfast”

“So you’ll hug me if I eat breakfast?”

“We’ll see”

“bREAKFAST HERE I COMEEEEE”

The kitchen was pretty much empty other than the sauces. There were a couple leaves for a salad, and the ranch dressing that I had grown to hate but I had to eat what I could. There was no way I was allowed to run off. He had kept me within the inner side of the kitchen where I couldn’t leave without him trapping me in.

“If you take any longer people are going to think that we’re doing the deed in here”

“You’re disgusting”

“Ok but like you’re gonna get teased either way”

“We are not going to do the deed in here”

“If this were public school then someone has definitely-”

“BUT THIS IS A CHRISTIAN PRIVATE SCHOOL SO NO HORNY”

“hiSSS”

He glares at me for another couple of seconds while I start to scarf down my salad.

“dON’T CHOKE ON IT. YOU’RE GOING TOO FAST”

“lET ME CHOKE ON MY SALAD. I SHALL GLADLY EMBRACE DEATH”

“nO?”

“yO wHAT ARE YOU TWO UP TO IN HERE?” Someone’s head popped in.

The two of us screamed. And I ended up choking on the salad. Helping me regain my breathing, he gazed at the person who had burst in.

“Is there ever going to be a time when you don’t just burst into the room I’m in?”

“Nope. But I’ll probably stop if you move out for college”

“I swear”

It’s his brother. I offer a smile and throw the now empty plate away.

“I hate ranch. If I have to eat that anymore I’m going to kill someone” I cough.

“As much as we know how to hide a body, I don’t exactly want to be an accomplice in a murder”

“Don’t worry about it Z. If anyone’s going to jail with me it’s your brother”

“What did I do???”

“Become my friend and partner in crime. You know, the usual”

“Can’t you get Sam to hide the body for you?”

“What’s the fun in that? You know more about the human body”

“oH?” His brother wiggles his eyebrows.

“The first bell’s rung. Let’s get to class”

“See you later Z!”

“See you!”

So class starts again. The day is calm, welcoming, serene. The day passes and I’m home again. Today’s supposed to be a McDonalds night but I end up waking up late for the 3am run.

Clown: I’m late today McDonalds?

Sun: Z wants to go But I want sleep

Clown: I’ll pick him up Tell him I’ll be there in 10

Sun: Got it

Seen at 4:03

My car starts and I drive towards his house. I’m already in my school uniform and my bag is in the seat next to me. My lights are dim so I don’t wake anyone in their home. I see his brother open and close the door, then slide into the seat next to me.

“Ready to go?”

“Yea. McDonalds right?”

“Yea”

The drive is quiet. He looks out the window while my music plays softly in the background. He probably isn’t as awake. Their dynamic at school is reversed at home. I never understood why.

“Is something bothering you?” My voice is soft. And he sighs.

“Are you sure you want to listen?”

“Always”

“I met this girl online. I thought we hit it off really well too. She was flirting and everything with me. I found out a few days ago that she had a boyfriend. It turns out she only started to talk to me because I had a rank that she wanted to be in. She broke off contact with me yesterday. I guess it hurts. I really thought she could be there for me for high school too”

“Don’t let it drag you down. It sounds rude to say that, but you have your whole life ahead of you. One small bump along the way won’t matter to you in the future. So focus on what you want to do and reach for it. If you ever need someone to be there for you my number is always there. Text me whenever you need, I’ll always try to be there.”

“One bump along the way…Thank you. I kinda get why E’s always going to you for help”

“It’s not much. The least I can do is listen to your worries.”

“But you aren’t obligated to do that”

“Yeah. But it doesn’t matter. I want to be of some help.” I pull up at the McDonalds drive through.

“Hey darling!”

“Hey. Can I get the usual and then… Do you want ice cream?”

“Wait the machine works?”

“Yes or no.”

“Yes please”

“And a large M&M McFlurry?”

“lARGE?”

“Of course darling! Did your friend go through the breakup blues?”

“More like got emotionally attached to one of those internet bunnies”

“Holy. That’s the worst. It’s on the house then”

“yOU caN’T JUST DO THAT”

“I DO WHAT I WANT I’M THE MANAGER”

I gawk and drive up to the second window. He shoots me a grin and hands me the food. I pull out my card to pay but he’s already gone.

“That little piece of sh-”

“Thank you” Z mumbles silently.

“Ah. Don’t worry about it! It’s the least I can do as your driver.”

“But you didn’t need to?”

“Internet bunnies are the worst. I would know”

“I’m not gonna ask how you know”

“Haha” I laugh. “Welcome back Z”

“A moment of weakness”

“3am hits different. Don’t worry about it. We’re all emotionally fragile”

“Especially the three of us”

“I would guess.”

“Ready to go?”

“Let’s”

And the rest of the night passes with laughter, smiles, and jokes.

Previous : Masterlist : Next

#fluff #angst #bc theres actually angst this time #writing #fiction #365 days of rejection #365 days of writing #projects #quarnatine projects #i hope this helps with college admissions lmAO #my ocs #365 days

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pocminiseries · 5 years

Text

Call My Name

Club Lure.

The task her older sister gave her was simple; Make sure everything was running smoothly.

But Brooklyn knew that it was never going to be that easy, especially with a place like Club Lure.

"Let's get this over with." She mumbled to herself. Her driver within three seconds stood beside her door opening it as he helped her out of the backseat. The warm Miami winds kissing her skin immediately. "Thank you, Sebastian." The older man simply nodded, making his way back towards the driver side, leaving Brooklyn standing in front of the one place she didn't really want to be.

Her dark eyes scanned the entrance, taking in the long line of people waiting to get in. She knew that her sister's club was a popular one but she had no clue it was this popular.

On the outside, Club Lure looked like any other club with its alluring entrance and neon name sign, captivating anyone that looks in its direction. Upon entering, it had its appeal of any other nightclub, the huge dancefloors, bass-thumping music, nice seating areas and a bar stocked with every kind of liquor imaginable but that's where the normalcy ended.

Her sister had included a "special" level that was where only the exclusive could enter. The one place that was designed for the elite and wealthy, all ranging from athletes, musicians, entrepreneurs, etc. While the first floor was for the average paying customers, the upper level, however, was where the true sin took place.

And that's exactly why Brooklyn didn't want to have anything to do with the club, it was too much to deal with.

Shaking her head a little, she was already feeling a bit self-conscious and out of her comfort zone just by simply standing there. But what Brooklyn failed to grasp was that she looked absolutely gorgeous in the strappy white lace material that hugged her curves like a second skin. With her feet in a pair of Tres Frais heels, her hair laid over her shoulders in soft curls and her makeup was done to perfection.

Numerous pairs of eyes landed on her as soon as she stepped out of the car and as usual, she was oblivious to the looks she was receiving.

Taking a deep breath she walked up towards the two buff bouncers that stood in front of the open double doors. Their eyes danced over her from head to toe the closer she got until she was standing in front of their towering figures. She went to open her mouth to speak but they were already well aware of who she was.

"Miss Monroe." The one with the piercing grey eyes spoke first. "Chantell already informed us of your arrival." She had given them strict instructions to keep a close eye on her and to make sure to be there for whatever she needed.

Of course, she did.

"The manager is waiting for you on the top level, room 303." He told her, watching the nervous young woman that screams innocence. Chantell was definitely not lying when she told everyone that her little sister was the exact opposite of her. The main difference between the two was the fact that Chantell was an absolute Vixen. She knew exactly how sexy she was, and was not ashamed to show it.

She gave him a quick thank you as he and the other man stepped aside to let her in. She could feel their eyes on her until she disappeared into the slightly lit club.

A heavy bass song she recognized slowly began to fill her ears as she walked down the hall. A few people stood amongst the walls, drinking or talking to whoever, their voices quieting down when she made her way past them.

Her palms began to sweat slightly, the closer she got to the opened set of double doors.

It wasn't as if this was her first time going to a club per say but since she knew the intentions of this one in particular and why she was here, it all felt different. Her eyes danced around the large opened, crowded area. Lights flashed from the ceilings as bodies moved together on a very hyped dancefloor. People were everywhere she looked, laughing, having what seemed to be a good time that they'd probably forget come morning time.

She maneuvered her way through the crowd once she spotted the area that led upstairs. A small smile pulled at her lips at the feeling of people lightly tugging at her hand, wanting her to stop and dance with them.

Moving past them as quickly as she could, she let out a much-needed breath and slowly made her way where another man stood by waiting, guarding the area carefully.

Without her even opening her mouth, he moved aside, allowing her entry. "Miss Monroe." he acknowledged her with the slight tilt of his head. She returned his gesture and carefully walked up the steps into an area she has only ever heard stories about.

As soon as her heeled feet hit the top step, she instantly felt the shift in the air. The color and theme were the same as downstairs but clearly, the people were not. Her eyes scanned the room spotting a few familiar faces that occupied the huge lounge area. It was just a bit amusing to her because she began to wonder if people understood what the word faithful actually meant.

Regardless, she wasn't here to judge.

She could feel people staring at her as she approached the elevator doors where a woman dressed in little to nothing stood behind a top platform. "Brooklyn." She smiled, stepping away from the platform tapping in a code on a touchpad, opening the elevator for Brooklyn to walkthrough. "I'm Teri. Whatever you need, just tell me and I'll get it done."

Brooklyn nodded her head, taking inside and turned to face Teri once again. "The elevator will take you to the top floor. Just keep moving forward, room 303 will be straight ahead." Teri told her, giving her a wink just as the elevator closed.

"Thank you." Brooklyn threw out quickly. Her suddenly dry throat made her wish she would've gotten a drink to help relax her nerves. She was way out of her element here.

But she promised Chantell that she'd watch over things while she was away. Especially since she recently hired a new manager that could possibly be interested in owning the club soon.

A mixture of moans, grunts, and music filled the air, exposing exactly what was going on behind the six doors that surrounded her as soon as the elevator doors dinged open. She couldn't help but feel like she was on set of some flick, and that wasn't good when you haven't been having sex on the regular.

Pushing all thoughts to the side, she made her down the hall, trying her best to tune out the noise coming from behind each room. She didn't even think to knock before she entered the room 303, quickly shutting the door behind her, silencing the noise completely.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were running from something." Brooklyn's eyes snapped up, following the source that was attached to the voice. A voice that she knew all too well. "But that wouldn't be anything new coming from you, no?"

"Why are you here?" She choked out, her body seemingly frozen on the spot.

"Manager." He stated simply, casually leaning against his desk. Brooklyn found herself biting her lower lip taking in his all-black business attire looking like the full course meal he was.

A devil in a damn suit.

Brooklyn cursed under her breath. Why would Chantell not tell her this beforehand? Her older sister of all people knew about the history between them, the things they did and how she felt about him. She was going to have an exchange of words with her when she made it home.

"It figures you would be into this type of shit."

Christian only smirked at her remark, not seeing the point in denying whatsoever. "And you aren't?"

Brooklyn's eyes squinted accusingly. "No, I'm not." She denied, knowing that her words held a bit of a lie to them.

Pushing away from his desk, Christian took a few steps towards her, visibly taking in how nervous she actually was. "You could never lie to me Brooklyn, remember that."

They were both well aware that he could read her like a book. He knew her better than she knew herself which is why she was so nervous around him. When you give yourself to someone, physically, mentally and emotionally, it opens and reveals things about you to them that you probably never even knew about your own self.

And their..."relationship" if that's what you want to call it, proved that.

"You knew. Is that why you took this job? Wanting to buy this club from her?" Christian knew her family pretty well but her sister had opened up this club not longer after Brooklyn had ended things with him. He has always been a successful businessman who even owned his own chain of clubs, so him being interested in her sister's club wasn't too fishy.

However, Brooklyn still had her doubts.

"Somewhat. This place has been under my radar for a while and since Chantell was thinking of giving it up and pursuing other things, I figured why not? Smart business move." While Christian knew that Brooklyn's sister owned Club Lure, the last person he was ever expecting to come across while here was her.

She made it clear that she no longer wanted to see him....ever. And Christian has gone out of his way to abide by her request. Until now of course.

"Right." She snorted. "You couldn't just leave me be could you?"

"No." He replied bluntly. "It's not as if you really wanted me to." Brooklyn tore her gaze away from him and focused on the tiled floors instead. She hated when he did that.

"Let's...let's not do this right now. This is strictly business and a favor for my sister. You do your job and I'll do mine, ok?" Her heart has been thumping loudly in her ear since she heard the sound of his voice. Being in his presence was always difficult for her.

Christian simply licked his bottom lip, taking it upon himself to invade her personal space. "But that's not what I want. You realize that when I agreed to let you go that I only meant it as a temporary thing right?" His fingertips lightly skimmed her bare skin, pulling her closer towards him. "You knew exactly what this was when you agreed to mine."

Brooklyn knew all too well, and that's what scared her.

"Don’t do this..." She whispered. His pleasantly soft but sweet smelling cologne filled her nose as her small hands slightly pushed against his chest from his close proximity. They shouldn't be this close. He knew all too well of the effect he had on her.

Voodoo type shit that always left her panties ruined by the simplest things he does.

"Don’t do what?" He teased, his lips lightly brush against her plump ones.

Her breathing was beginning to come out more quickly from her heightened hormone levels. He made her nervous. Not because she was scared of him but more so afraid of how much control this man had over mind and body. Even after three years of not seeing each other, he still made her body respond in a manner that no other man could.

She had to bite her lip when his hands moved from her waist and slowly began to slide down to grab a hand full of her ass. He literally left no room in between them, loving how her body responded to him.

He knew her well enough to know how wet she truly was without checking for himself. But he loved to tease her, so he quickly attached his lips on her neck and swirled that crazily skilled tongue of his over her skin. Immediately her knees became weak but his grip tightened on her booty, making sure she didn't fall.

Brooklyn hummed in approval using one of her hands to grip his dark hair, pulling him closer.

They both knew that her neck was a weak point and when he sucked on her spot right underneath her left ear, she could not stop the moan from leaving her mouth even if she tried.

Her hands gripped his shoulders as he lifted her up and carefully sat her on top of his desk. He was always so caring and protective of her.

His hands rested on her thighs, moving up every few seconds while he placed soft kisses from her neck to her jawline and on both her cheeks. Their eyes never left each other as she felt his hand slid between her thighs. He could feel the heat from her pussy and he hadn't even really touched her yet.

"After all this time you still get so easily wet for me...Peaches."

#christian yu #christianyufanfic #ambwfanfic #ambw #fanfic #maturethemes #interracialfanfic #gangsta #smut #smutwarning #callmyname

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spinedog · 5 years

Text

Why I write Adam the way I do

Okay, this started out as a reply to some awesome feedback on FR&H, and it... sort of got away from me. So, I decided to turn it into a textpost here, because I feel it’s really important and I haven’t really had a chance to put it into words until now.

Putting in a page break so to not clutter up your dashboards: fair warning, the below contains a lot of talk about abusive relationships, and a discussion about portraying abusers.

So, it was mentioned that a lot of fan fictions portray Adam as a one-sided monster. It’s a trend I keep noticing, even in stories that are otherwise really, really well written (though, keep in mind, I don’t read all that much anymore, so there could be some and I just haven’t seen it). Not many writers seem to want to give him any depth other than 'shitty dude'. And I understand why. His character shouldn't be sympathized with, and it's tough to walk a line between 'multi-sided' and 'redeeming someone who should not be redeemed'. Especially with all the Adam stans that started rioting after his death, I think most people either hate him so viscerally that they don't want to spend any time on him, or don't want to look like they're trying to excuse him. Both viewpoints are totally valid, by the way - I don't think anyone should write any character that they don't want to write. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t adore all the goat man memes that make fun of him.

But I think there's a bit of a danger there that no one really acknowledges. People with abusive tendencies aren't usually one-sided monsters in real life. Sure, genuine sadistic sociopaths types exist, who just hurt for the sake of hurting and really don't care about reasoning, but these people are rare in comparison. Your typical abusive relationship is generally not like this.

An abuser is the person who is mentally ill and starts to lean on you, then continues to lean, with more and more weight, because it's working, it feels good, and don't they deserve to have some support in their life for once? An abuser is the person who genuinely thinks you're the only person who will ever love them, who will ever tolerate them, and they tell you this and tell you that if you were to leave they would end up committing suicide. An abuser is the person who knows they get a rush of power from the feeling of hitting flesh and leaving a bruise, of knowing it's wrong but knowing they can never admit it, so they lie and backpedal to try and explain why it's okay that they have to hit you, because it was your fault anyways. An abuser is a parent who just wants their child to be perfect, can't you just listen to what they've told you, can't you just be a good child for once?

An abuser is a person who never emotionally matured, attaches to another person in an unhealthy way to stabilize themselves, and continues to do so even when they realize what they’re doing, using any kind of tactic or rationalization they can come up with to keep that person they so desperately need close. And I want people to see that. I want people to read a perspective that they understand, that they sympathize with, and know that it does not excuse what he's done. I want them to see it happening at the table across the room. I want them to see it in a stranger's eyes. And, most of all, I want them to see how easy it is to fall into that situation. Abusive relationships are far too common, but toxic relationships are even more common - and that’s often where it starts.

It’s almost happened to me. Twice, actually. Once with a very, very close friend who I truly believed could pull her way through her own mental illnesses, who I thought was making progress, who I thought cared very deeply about me - right up until I realized I was crying myself to sleep every night because no matter how hard I tried, and no matter how closely I followed what she wanted me to do, I had always done something wrong to hurt her (once, I asked her how her day was going, and she responded with five paragraphs about how I was incredibly hurtful for forcing her to remember the shitty day she’d had. I believed her.). Then with a romantic partner who I’d known for years, who I knew had toxic masculinity issues that I thought he knew about, who I thought I could trust - right up until he dragged me across the cab of his car into a kiss that I’d already said ‘no’ to. I left both of those people within days of that realization. I still define them both as more toxic than abusive, and I was certainly no angel in my own right - I did and said a lot of things in what I thought was my own defense that I’ve come to regret. But I’d seen abusive relationships before, through a story about a friend my mother had in school, movies, books - and most importantly, a small and very well-written script about a girl defending her boyfriend’s actions that I read in high school and never, ever forgot. I could read the signs well enough to know what road they were starting to turn onto. I knew that the thought of hurting them would stop me and force me to re-think my actions, but the thought of hurting me wouldn’t be enough to stop either of them. So I left - and was able to leave, due to one deciding that it was her idea to kick me out of her life in the first place, and the other deciding I was too high-strung and sensitive for him. The only reason I’m not still involved with either one is that neither attempted to guilt trip me into staying with them any further - and I’m deeply grateful to both of them for that.

That’s why I put so much effort into writing Adam, and why I’ve now written specifically from his POV twice. I knew I had a grasp on who he was, but it was just an understanding for me, and not a trauma like so many others have. I want people to read a perspective that they understand, that they sympathize with, but know that it does not excuse what he's done. And, most importantly, I wanted readers to come to this conclusion on their own, because I believe that the only way to make someone truly accept something is to make them think that it was their own idea in the first place. It's a daunting task, and I think that's why we don't see it as often as we maybe should. No one wants to stray too far to one side and be accused of sympathizing with an abuser, so they back off and stick to the safer side of the spectrum. Or, the people who truly understand it want nothing more than to just leave it behind them.

But, if you just portray every bad guy as a cartoon monster, you start to forget what real monsters look like. And so does your audience.

I expected to get set on fire by my readers when I posted the first chapter with Adam's perspective, honestly. I'd demonized the hell out of him in the first few chapters, and I didn't like it - I wanted him to be just as real as any of the other characters, and I wanted to show him for what I thought he really was, but I was afraid of the backlash that I thought I would get. But, after a few chapters I decided that I had no real reputation to sacrifice, and I knew that it was either going to sink the fanfic that I had no real stake in, or make it into one that people might actually learn something from.

So, I went for it. I put together motivations and psychology for him, I made him think he had a reason for what he did, and I made a reason for why he needed Blake. I pulled things from my own experience, even some thoughts from my own head during some of my worst moments, stressed over whether or not it was respectful to abuse victims, made tweaks, deleted most of those tweaks anyways, then pressed ‘post’ and hoped. And instead of the hell I was expecting, I got a lot of positive feedback and no accusation at all. People told me that, rather than coming across as redeeming him, I was making him even more frightening by making him more realistic. In fact, every single piece of feedback praised the fact that he actually had motivation and was a character in his own right, but was still despicable. I think I did lose a couple readers - there were a couple that had been leaving a lot of feedback and suddenly disappeared around the same time as that chapter was posted, and I still wonder if it was because of that. But I got a rush of confidence, because I’d actually accomplished what I’d set out to do. I was walking that line, and more importantly, people could actually see what I was doing.

Now, here we are. I don't think I'm doing anything unique, or special. Honestly, I don’t even really think I’m all that good of an author, overall. I'm just doing what I wish more writers would - depict a mentality that they don’t have. Maybe they're scared to, maybe they don't understand, or maybe they just don't have an interest in how these people think. And every single one of those viewpoints are valid. If someone isn’t comfortable with a character, or concept, or relationship, they should not write it. That’s why I’m doing it - I figured that if I understood it, I was interested in it, and I felt brave enough to try, then there was no reason not to give it a shot. Actually, I sort of felt like I had a responsibility to - like I said before, I have experience. But I’m not traumatized, nor are those memories terribly painful for me anymore.

So, I use them. Because I know there are people who can’t share their experiences because it’ll bring up too much pain and suffering. Because I know there are people who think they know a monster when they see one, but think that the person that won’t stop texting them, that convinces them to do things they’re not comfortable with, that makes them feel small, ‘isn’t like that’. Because I know there are people who see the Adam in RWBY canon and genuinely do not understand why everyone hates him so much, or why he was portrayed the way he was.

I write Adam as a dynamic character because I want everyone who reads this FR&H to understand the fact that abusers are real people, not plot devices, or horror stories. People that maybe could have been helped, could have turned their lives around, if someone had seen what they were becoming sooner.

But once habits are set, once they’ve sunk into what they want the world to be, once they’ve built a fragile world around themselves, you cannot help them anymore. All you can do is not be a part of that world.

Thanks for reading, guys. <3

#spinedog speaks #long post #rwby #rwby fanfiction

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norwegianfriedokra · 4 years

Text

Introspection...in fact another’s assignment

Today's topic is a bit strong, it's a bit impactful, it's personal. It's something I've done a ton of thinking about. It's about the meaning of love. Oh I know what you're thinking. What's with the cheesy catch phrases, seriously Rachael...but one thing I know. One thing I can impart, is my own thoughts and feelings in this world. If my thoughts, feelings and the meaning I find can do anything for anyone else. Even if it means to clear up misconceptions that I created or ones others have in their own life...it's worth it. Communication, at least the attempt of which, is of utmost importance. Without it are you showing that you care, that you love, others?

Here in Germany, a strong cultural trait that I've picked up, is that people have a tendency to withhold information. By that I mean keeping certain things, even basic information that we, in the states, would find odd. Where you were born, or what you studied in college, telling someone you just met that information isn't necessary. Being vague about it is totally acceptable and common practice. Sharing such information comes after the first couple of times you meet someone. Perhaps this is an incorrect interpretation, but as I have experienced it, it seems to hold true.

However once you get to know someone the real intensity starts. You see, once the wall breaks down it gets real. The nature of relationships of any kind here, once they really begin, it's hard to truly explain. Of course, this could just be the people I knew in the states. The relationships I have with my friends and family in the states. It could also just be me. I beg of my readers today to hold some compassion and withhold judgement.

I always felt like there was a wall. You can become friends with people in the states, but that wall that keeps your soul safe is always up. There are few people I have ever really felt like that wall broke with. There are definitely people who have seen my own intensity and emotional reactions. To try to really communicate what I mean I will describe a couple of extreme situations in my life and what happened.

One that springs to mind is when my dog died. After college I got a dog, and I named her Iza. I could easily say that I got this dog to fill a void. Some people have children, I got a dog. You see, right after college life got wicked hard for me. My family broke, my parents split right before my last term of college and I barely graduated. For the first year or so I was dating someone, and when that ended I jumped from home to home. When a potentially more long term solution came up to move in with some friends, somewhere around then, I got a dog.

I had dreams to take this dog with me and hike the Appalachian Trail. I wanted it to be my companion, a true second in my life. Unfortunately within 4 or 5 months I got an injury during a soccer game. During a time when I needed to focus on training this new addition in my life, I couldn't. I couldn't walk, I was on crutches for three weeks. Afterwards I still needed lots of time to recover correctly, but this dog needed to be cared for too. I quickly realized that if I wasn't able to take care of myself, I couldn't take care of this dog. But nevertheless I recovered, I was able to walk and then run again. Then I moved into this new home, finally I found a chance for consistency and rhythm. I think it was within a week of moving into this new home my dog was hit by a car. It was an unfortunate accident that directly coincided with the breakup of my then boyfriend. Literally, my boyfriend and I were breaking up when it happened. Then I took my dog to the vet, only to learn that she would need to have a leg amputated. There was a surgery option but it was too expensive. I had also grown up that spending money like that on pets wasn't really an option. I made, probably, one of the worst decisions of my life. I decided to get my pet put down.

I did my best to be realistic about it. I was barely able to take care of myself at that time. I couldn't pay for the surgery even to have her leg amputated, I would need to take out a loan to manage it. Even after that I would be living with roommates whom I couldn't imagine what an impact it would have had on them. So much of my decision was based on things that now, when I look back, I know I could have managed in some fashion. But emotionally where I was (and by no means do I mean due to the breakup), and financially, I felt totally incapable of handling the situation.

All the while my now ex-boyfriend stayed by my side trying to just be there. I couldn't even be in the room when she was put down. I was so consumed with guilt at my decision, my selfish decision, I couldn't look her in the eyes. I can't help thinking about this time and not cry, the sadness still consumes me at times. When we got back to the house I was now living in I raged. I grabbed some glassware I owned and smashed it against the garage wall outside. I searched desperately for something to help me process this.

What I know now is that I wasn't just processing the death of my dog. This evening was the culmination of all the loss I had suffered in the past year. That past year my family had totally broken apart. My father was homeless. I had ended three relationships, two of which were with men whom I deeply respected and had deep attachments to as friends for years. Both of those breakups, even though the physical relationships were short, had immense meaning to me. I had graduated college to find myself in the middle of the burgeoning economic crisis. Attempting to find work that gave my education meaning was meaningless, or at least seemed so in the midst of everything else going on in my life. I lived paycheck to paycheck, but I kept moving. I planned for the future. I got a dog, I bought tickets to visit my friend Jens in Germany. And then, like pulling a tooth with a slammed door, I crashed.

Yes, I said the point of this entry is the meaning of love. Well, in times like this, love is what can pick you up. Love can support you. It can make you feel cared for so that despite when you feel lost and alone you realize you're not. At this point in my life I felt concern and care from my ex-boyfriend and best friend who stayed with me throughout the night. But the pain I felt, the loss.

I had always been one to think of sadness as a beautiful emotion. Not because I was always depressed, but because crying and sadness was a reaction to beautiful things. That to feel sadness was to evoke and emote your empathy. It's not always so, I know that, but in terms of the loss of loved ones, or when enduring difficult situations, it was an acceptable emotion. As I love to write, it was something I always embraced as I felt it helped me to better access my inner poet.

This rage I felt, at this time, I had never felt something so intense. I had never felt the desire to break things. Now, with the sun setting behind the tall buildings here in Offenbach I find myself melancholy in my thoughts. A heaviness on my heart as I recollect my first dog. The love and joy I had found in Iza, it's something I won't get back. It had an innocence to it, one that denied all the hardships that were surrounding me. I could giggle and simply find myself with her. I could be angry but joyful, happy and comforted.

And what's the point, you ask again? Love is something you experience. It's entirely personal. Without communicating it others will have no knowledge of it. My love of my dog, it was something I experienced. It is a memory, and something that changed me. I chose to love my dog, and I was the one who was crushed by the circumstances of her death. You chose to love others, but to expect them to love you back...you can't rely on that.

With pets, as they communicate very differently, you can only imagine that they love you back. That they also care for you in that way. Their devotion and need, it implies such feelings. Perhaps they do, in fact, feel that way. But my loss in this instance was entirely of my own creation. I had chosen to love my dog. It created meaning in my life, and filled a void I thought I had.

Aww shit, am I even expressing this right? The meaning of love is entirely dependent on whom is loved and who does the loving. Everyone's love is different, expressed differently, and exists differently. No two people love each other the same. When love can't be communicated well, how will the other actually know they're loved? Is faith, in this instance, enough? The meaning in love, in my mind, isn't found. If you can't find a way to reach the other person, to communicate your love, then will it exist for them?

I think that's where most mistrust, and distance between people, comes from. At some point people can't communicate their love to each other anymore. I know it's not only that, but I really feel that because love in every situation is different, that unless it is truly understood by the other person/being, without being understood has it existed? At that point it's a one-sided love.

And as love is also different in all situations, it's also fluctuating. Like the seasons and tides it changes. Strong and bold, or like a whisper, it flutters through our lives on butterfly wings. Sadness then being they symbol that once one did love, once, perhaps, one found love.

Ok, my melancholy sunset and I are going to go drink some tea and take a nap. These meanderings of meaning, I hope in some way that they reached you, my dear readers. I never profess to know anything, only to impart and share in this complicated world. Another jenga piece when you'd rather be playing beer pong.

#drivel #melancholyevening #teaonafullstomach

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panda-noosh · 6 years

Text

Hiraeth {part one} {demigod!Lance x reader}

Words: 6k

Summary: Your life changed forever that day in the forest. The day the voices got too much. The day that single word brought you to what felt like the very brink of death - that was until Lance McClain, son of Poseidon, arrived to take you home.

Genre: percyjackson!au - angst

Notes: part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9 - epilogue - here it issss! i’ve been having so much fun writing this series and i really, really hope you guys enjoy it. i’m such a slut for Greek mythology, so writing this was truly one of my favourite things to do with my time lol. tell me your thoughts and lets discuss stuff! i wanna hear from you all!!

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Hiraeth - (n) a homesickness for a place you can’t return to, or that never was.

Chapter 1

The voices only got louder.

Louder, and louder, and louder, until they were the only thing you could hear. They echoed in the back of your head, taking up every piece of your conscience, impossible to block out. There were no thoughts drifting through your mind at the moment – just the voices. The voices of the terrified people, the voices begging for a help you couldn't give them, because you didn't understand what was going on.

They sounded so helpless. It clawed at you as you darted between the trees, fighting off the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. Your head was in pain. It was always in pain, but today it was worse; today, it felt as if somebody was truly taking a hammer and nail to your temple, repeatedly slamming them into your skin.

The trees brought little comfort this time. You ran through them, whipping stray branches out of your way as your feet carried you at what felt like a million miles per hour. You wanted to be quicker. You wanted to run so fast that the only thing you could hear was the wind screeching past your ears, the sound of your own blood pumping through your veins, the sound of your heavy breathing.

But instead, you got the voices.

“Help us!”

“I didn't deserve to die!”

“It was an accident! I swear!”

You closed your eyes and finally dropped to your knees like a stone in water. The brambles attacked the thin fabric of your jeans, ripping a fresh hole in them that you would never be able to fix or replace.

“Oh Gods, I have kids. I have kids! Show some mercy!”

You didn't know what they wanted you to do; you were a teenager, for crying out loud! You were just trying to scrape by in life, trying to fix things that had long since been messed up; you had nobody. You had dropped out of school after your mother had left, had found no point in trying to earn an education whenever you had nobody around to support you. After the rent had been used up, you had sent yourself out into the streets and had been living amongst the homeless since then – it wasn't all that bad. You would live on the streets for the rest of your life if it meant the voices would leave you alone, the torturous wailing that followed you around for no reason would finally come to a stop.

As the screams continued, you pulled your knees into your chest and bit down on the palm of your hand so harshly you drew blood. The pain was no longer a distraction. The screams were too loud for anything to get your mind away from them.

So you sat there instead, hidden behind the trees and the brambles, with your knees pulled up to your chest and blood dripping down the palm of your hand; the screams continued, even as you rocked back and forth and silently begged them to stop.

“To anybody listening,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes closed tightly. “Please make this stop. Please. I'll do anything.”

You thought it was a long-shot.

Little did you know, Olympus was listening.

---

For the first time in days, it seemed as if the voices had taken a day off.

You were aware it was only going to be brief; there was no way they had suddenly stopped for good. They would return in a matter of hours, and you would be back in the woods, curling up on the leaves trying to fight them off before sleep overtook you.

But until then, you would use this time of silence to your advantage.

“Got a spare towel I could borrow?” you asked Romelle, who was busy washing her face with the hand-soap provided by the off-licence.

She glanced at you, her violet eyes gleaming with a slight look of disbelief. Despite you two being friends, having met at a homeless shelter only a few months prior, she still took it as a personal offence whenever you asked to borrow anything of hers.

You rolled your eyes. “Come on. A towel is reusable, for gods sake.” You didn't bother waiting for a reply before snatching the soft white towel out of her hand and drying your dripping face with it.

Romelle frowned but didn't say anything else. Instead, she turned to the mirror and started idly running her fingers through her knotted pony tail, wincing as her fingers tore through the strands and pulled small fibres out of her head.

Your hair wasn't any better. You had slept on the forest floor again last night, meaning you were still picking random leaves and insects out of your head even hours later. You had been awake for over six hours, having awoken before sunrise, and you were only now beginning to realise just how badly you needed a wash.

Oh, how you wished you could sink into a bath. An actual bath. Not a lake, not a random bathroom sink where the most you could do was splash your face with water. You wanted an actual bath, like the one you used to have – but that was back when things were easier, back when you had your mother protecting you, back whenever your brain wasn't messed up, screaming at you every few hours.

Nobody else knew about the voices; not even Romelle. You told her you didn't like sleeping in the homeless shelters, which was why you disappeared nearly every night. Romelle had become emotionally numb during her time on the streets, so she never questioned it, though she sometimes sent you a concerned look whenever she caught you stumbling out of the forest at the crack of dawn.

It was nice having somebody there to protect you, but Romelle most certainly wasn't a mother-figure. You had met her a few months prior, and she had immediately taken a liking to you; she had a mothers instinct in her, clearly, but she didn't like the idea of becoming emotionally attached, and you understood that. You were the same. You spent your life drifting between homeless shelters, and to this day, you could not name a single person bar Romelle who you had met during those times.

You and Romelle cleaned yourselves up and exited the off-licence, ignoring the cashiers weary gaze.

“You planning on disappearing again tonight?” Romelle asked you as the two of you walked across the car park.

You shrugged, already knowing full well that you had no intentions of staying at the homeless shelter. “Maybe. We'll just have to see where the night takes me.”

“You act like some kind of werewolf, you know,” she continued. “Don't get me wrong, everyone to themselves. I know first hand that the beds at the shelters aren't exactly the most comfortable things, but it has to be better than sleeping on leaves.”

“Have you ever slept on leaves?”

Romelle frowned. “Well... No, but-”

“Then don't judge something you don't know anything about.” You flashed her a sarcastic smile and picked up your pace, trying to get ahead of her before her questions dove any deeper than they already had.

You heard her sigh in annoyance, picking up her own pace to walk beside you again. Romelle was older than you by a number of years, but she still wasn't very old – certainly not old enough to be living on the streets, but that was a topic that neither of you ever brought up. There was no point on dwelling over what you both once had – it was gone, and that was all there was to it.

“I'm serious, though,” she continued. “Why don't you spend the night in the shelter today? I can save you a bunk if you want – so you're not sleeping beside Steve. He's a bit-”

“Don't bother,” you grunted. “I don't like the shelters – you know that. There's no point in trying to persuade me otherwise.”

“You're gonna put your back out if you keep sleeping the way you are,” Romelle groaned, and you looked over at her with a raised eyebrow, silently questioning why she cared.

Romelle seemed to catch on to the fact that she was, genuinely, showing some essence of caring and immediately clamped her mouth shut, staring dead ahead.

“Fine. But don't come crawling to me whenever your spines gotten bent out of shape and no doctor will see you.”

“Trust me – if my spine is bent out of shape, the last person I'll come crawling to is you.”

Romelle rolled her eyes, nudged you with her elbow as the conversation slowly ceased to a halt.

It must have been the silence that triggered it.

The first few voices were merely whispers, tickling the back of your brain, barely noticeable unless you truly paid attention. Upon first hearing them, you very nearly stopped in your tracks just to be able to hear what they were saying this time; begging for mercy, most likely. That seemed to be a common theme amongst them nowadays, though you had no idea what they meant or why they were asking you for such a thing.

You kept walking, though. The voices were so quiet that even the click of your footsteps was overshadowing them.

But they gradually got louder. Just like they always did.

You swallowed thickly, a thin sheen of sweat coating your freshly-washed hands. You rubbed them down your ripped jeans, hoping and praying that you arrived at the homeless shelter soon so you could send Romelle on her way and escape into the woods, so you could be alone to deal with the rising screeches in your head.

“Today is the day! He told us!”

“His first child! He will claim them! Finally!”

“Princess of the Underworld.”

You shivered. This was new – all of this was new. Never before had you heard them say such a thing. For the first time, they didn't sound particularly terrified – some of them even sounded happy, as if they were celebrating the rise of some princess of the underworld.

The celebratory cheers only got louder as you and Romelle walked. Romelle had taken to humming to herself to fill the silence, but you could no longer concentrate on the sound of her tune; you were trying to decipher what the voices meant, what they were saying, why they were saying it.

You couldn't help it. You knew you would do much better just ignoring them, perhaps trying to get your hands on a kind psychiatrist who could tell you what was going on and why you were hearing such strange things, but you couldn't help listening to them. Before, they sounded so helpless. You wanted to help them, wanted to find them and get them out of whatever situation they were in-

It took a while for you to realise that they couldn't possibly be real people, and you were most likely just being driven insane by childhood trauma and malnourishment.

This realisation did little to halt your curiosity, and you still found yourself trying to decipher the mysterious wailings of the people in your head.

You and Romelle reached the homeless shelter.

Well, barely.

As soon as you saw the old building coming into view, you clapped your friend on the shoulder, bid your farewell and span on your heel in the opposite direction. Romelle yelled after you, but you could barely hear her, didn't want to pay attention to her right now. You didn't even look back over your shoulder as you picked up your pace to a brisk walk and disappeared amongst the trees again.

You started running, just like you always did.

And the voices were fuelled by your adrenaline, screaming in your head now. Some of them were still begging for mercy in the background of the celebrations – some of them were still crying, telling you to go and check on their children and their families as if you of all people would have any idea who they were referring to.

But the celebrations were the most prominent.

“He's going to claim her at long last!”

“This day will go down in history as one of the greatest!”

“Olympus truly is doing the right thing for once!”

They got louder.

And louder.

You were certain you could feel the floor thumping beneath you, even though the voices were all in your head. It was like being at a club, the music pumping so loud that the tiles beneath your feet bounced with the beat of the music – only it wasn't tiles you were standing on; it was grass, and it wasn't music you were hearing; it was tortured souls.

You crumbled to your knees, clamped your hands over your head. You opened your mouth, were fairly sure you were screaming although you could hear nothing coming from your own throat. You squeezed your eyes closed – they were talking about Olympus. Olympus? You didn't know what that was. Was it a clue? Were they telling you about this infamous place to get you to finally realise what was going on in your own head?

And then a single word flashed through your brain that shattered it all: “Hades.”

You heard it only briefly, but it triggered something inside of you almost instantly. You had never felt pain quite like it. It was blinding, starting at the back of your head and shooting to the front so quick that it pulled you with it, causing you to stumble forward. You were definitely screaming now, your jaw aching with how wide and quickly your mouth had shot open.

“No. No, no, no, no, please!” you wailed, pressing your forehead into the moss and clapping your hands over your ears. The pain was too much. There were tears slipping out of your eyes, dripping into the ground. You reached up, tested for blood on your forehead, because it truly felt as if someone was stabbing you over and over in the temple.

Your hand drew away clean.

This was all you.

Your breathing became shallow, your vision growing blurry; you were going to pass out. You were going to pass out. Hell, maybe you were about to die; it certainly felt like it. Maybe the malnutrition had finally taken its toll on you and you were being claimed by death at long last.

It was only a matter of time, anyway. You would welcome it. Sure, Romelle might be a little sad, but a part from that, there was nobody else who would be even a little bit affected by you disappearing off the face of the earth. The chances of you-

“Hey, hey, hey, hey.”

Your eyes snapped open. There was a man. A single man in a blue jacket staring down at you.

You panicked.

Nobody could see you like this. They would send you away. They would call you crazy and lock you up somewhere, and nobody could see you like this.

Despite the blinding pain searing through your body, you scrambled backwards at lightening speed. The man in the blue jacket reached hesitant hands towards you, his eyes flashing with a worry you didn't understand, couldn't understand. If you started to understand, you could very easily slip into the realm of trust, and that was the last thing you needed.

“Get away from me!” you exclaimed.

“I'm here to help you,” he said. “I know what's going on. We've been looking for you for months.”

You shook your head violently. “Stay away!”

“Please.” He sounded desperate now, continuing to take small steps towards you with his hands outstretched. You saw the scars on his palms – they looked like they had come from a knife, and you suddenly found yourself wondering what this man had been through to get such harsh markings embedded in his skin.

“I don't know you,” you croaked out. “I don't-”

“Hades.”

You screamed, your elbows caving in and causing you to crash to the floor. You curled up, pressing your knees into your forehead to try and shove back the pain which was flying through your brain at this moment, but it did very little to help.

The strange man was by your side in seconds, whispering words in a different language you didn't understand. You didn't bother trying to move – you felt as if you couldn't, as if your body was truly and utterly in a state of paralysis at this point.

If he was going to kill you, he would be showing you a mercy right now.

But he made no move to try and assassinate you. You could feel his fingers – calloused and rough – making their way along your arms, trying to pry you out of the defensive position you had curled yourself into.

You fought against him, but weakly.

He managed to roll you over with very little effort. You looked up at him, eyes swimming with forced tears. In his hand was a golden bar – where had he got that from?

“I need you to swallow this,” he ordered.

Your eyes widened. “I don't-”

But he didn't give you a chance to protest before he was snapping a single corner off of the golden bar and stuffing it into your mouth, halting your words almost immediately.

You felt as if you should have been fighting against it – some random man appearing beside you, placing a random piece of gold into your mouth. You shouldn't have chewed it. You shouldn't have swallowed it, but you couldn't help it. It truly felt as if you had to finish the entire thing.

It tasted like nothing.

It slid down your throat, and the effects were immediate.

The pain in your head came to a stop. Your hands stopped trembling, and the sweat on your forehead and hands evaporated back into your skin. You suddenly felt energized, despite the fact that you had slept a total of eight hours in the past four days.

The man was glancing down at you with a small smile playing on his face. You had half a mind to reach forward and slap him, but you couldn't; not with the shock bouncing around in your system right now.

Slowly – so slowly – you pushed yourself up onto your elbows and glanced around the forest as if seeing it in a new light. Every single time you had been here, there had been strangers screaming for mercy in your head; this wasn't a nice place for you. It didn't remind you of nice things, but now that your brain was clear, you were seeing it just how everybody else would have seen it – pretty, the trees eerie yet nice to look at.

You swallowed thickly, hoping to taste a little bit more of the random gold you had just swallowed; there was none left.

“Better?”

You jumped, having almost forgotten the man was there at all.

You scrambled away from him, clutching your hands to your chest. “Who are you? What did you just feed me?”

He raised the golden bar as if that was answer all in itself. Whenever he saw your continued look of confusion, he rolled his eyes and said, “Ambrosia. It's like demigod medicine.” You faltered. He continued on swiftly, as if he hadn't just said the word demigod in a real life, casual sentence. “Now, my name is Lance McClain and that's all you need to know about me until we get to camp. I know for a fact that Chiron is very interested in seeing you. Your name has gotten around quite fast-”

“Stop talking.”

“-although not all of the things being said are positive, so I should probably warn you about that.” He stood up, stretched out his neck with a long, drawn out sigh. “It's mainly Keith – he thinks you're a danger. Pfft. You're tiny. You must have gotten more of your mothers genes than your dads, because I know for a fact that Big Hades-”

You flinched at the word.

“-isn't short. Although, I'm pretty sure he's the shortest of the Big Three.” Lance frowned before shrugging. “He's still pretty tall, though.” Lance looked down then, as if only just now realising you were still sitting on the floor. His frown only deepened, a crease forming between his eyes. “What are you still doing on the floor? We need to go. We haven't got all day.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you hissed, scrambling up and holding your hands out in front of you – you knew you looked ridiculous. You were a skinny little thing, suffering with malnutrition, had very few fighting skills – but you'd be damned if you were going to let this stranger take you without a fight.

Lance raised a brow at the stance you were taking, a devilish smirk appearing on his face. “Okay... I really appreciate your efforts here, but this whole attitude you've got going on just won't do.”

“Attitude? You just force-fed me-”

“I basically saved your life,” Lance scoffed. “Although the voices wouldn't have killed you – I know from experience. When I was having my Approach, it was the worst thing. But I'm pretty sure it was fishes talking to me and not dead bodies...”

Your eyes widened. Oh gods, he really is insane.

You glanced around the forest in search of a way out – you had to get away from him before he pulled out a knife or something. It seemed like something he would do. Or maybe a spear.

Casually, with the air of somebody merely standing in a long line, Lance glanced down at his bare wrist as if he was looking down at a watch. “Time is running out. I want to get back before dinner starts, you know. If you're late, you have to give more food into the sacrifice fire, and I really don't-”

You took your chance.

Without thinking twice, you burst into a run. Your lungs felt fresher than they had in months. You felt like you could run a mile. You very nearly smiled, despite the person you were running from. The air whipped through your hair, the trees seemed to move out of the way for you. You were unstoppable. You were healthy. Just wait until Romelle heard-

The floor exploded in front of you, and water sprouted from the dirt out of nowhere.

You yelped, sliding and falling onto your backside in your attempts to avoid the spurting water suddenly shooting up from a fresh crack in the floor. Your attempts were in vain, though, as droplets of said water dripped down onto your head, soaking your hair.

Lance waded up behind you and sighed. “Now we're definitely going to be late.”

You couldn't speak. You were gazing at the water fountain in shock – how? That didn't make any sense! That hadn't been there before – gods, you had genuinely just watched it burst from the floor!

Lance kneeled down beside you, gently dipped his fingers into the water. His skin seemed to glow beneath it, and whenever he pulled his hand away and ran his fingers over your arm, his skin was completely dry.

You gaped. This was too much. You truly had died. The headaches you were suffering from had killed you, and this was hell. This was hell.

“Am I in hell?” you vocalised before you could stop yourself.

Lance laughed loudly then, clapping his hands in his amusement. You flinched, glancing at him through sheets of soggy hair which were now dangling in your eyes. “Oh, funny how you of all people would talk about hell. Ah... The world is wild.” He turned to you then. “But no. You'd know if you were in hell.”

Before you could question what he meant, he was grabbing your arm and hauling you up. You stumbled up along with him, feet slipping in the dirt which had now turned to sludge due to the water pelting down upon it – still pelting down upon it. There didn't seem to be an end to it.

“Maybe we should get a plumber or something,” you mumbled. “There might be a burst pipe somewhere.”

“Hm?” Lance looked over at the shooting stream of water as if only just now noticing it. His face lit up. “Oh, yeah. No, don't worry about that.” And you watched – you genuinely watched – as this strange man flicked his wrist, and put a halt to the fountain of water.

It just stopped. With no explanation, no scientific reasoning – it just stopped. The crack in the dirt moulded over, and the water stopped running, and it was truly as if it had never even been there in the first place. If it wasn't for your soaked clothes and the sloshy mud around you, you would have debated whether or not it had been there in the first place.

“Don't worry. Water's good for the nature if that's what you're worried about,” Lance whispered in your ear, his hand still wrapped around your arm. “Now can we go? I'm getting hungry, and everybody was expecting me back in an hour – I may have been a little too cocky whenever I was telling them how quick I'd find you.” He grinned sheepishly. “It's kind of been four days. But that's not the point! I've got you now, and you need new clothes before the water starts going stagnant – it really starts to stink whenever it goes stagnant.”

“You talk a lot.”

“Excuse me. I'm explaining things to you.”

“I know water stinks when it goes stagnant, but that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere with you.”

Lance groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. “Dad was right. Children of the Big Three really are stubborn. Remind me to apologise to anybody I've ever spoken to once we get back to camp.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came out of your mouth before Lance was throwing a cloak – a cloak he had pulled from thin air – over the top of your heads.

You cried out in shock. The floor fell away from under you. The trees whizzed past, branches slashing against your ears as you moved at a speed you couldn't even describe without sounding insane.

And then you were landing, crashing against the floor. As soon as your feet hit the mud, Lance's hand shot away from your arm and your knees were giving out, causing you to fall forward and land in the dirt – new dirt. Not the dirt of the forest you had just been in.

You couldn't stop yourself from screaming.

You threw the mystery blanket off of your head and scrambled to your feet, darting your eyes around in panic – how the hell had you gotten here? Because this wasn't the forest. This definitely wasn't the forest.

There were cabins, buildings, people – people who were all staring at you in shock. Wide eyes, open mouths, whispers being passed around. Some of them even held weapons, though you struggled to feel threatened whenever half of the weaponry was stuff you had never even seen before.

You were stood in the centre of a circle made from pebbles. Protecting the pebbles from being stood on was a ring of fire – a ring of fire that nobody else seemed to be questioning. They were all just standing around it, looking through the flames at you and Lance, who had just randomly appeared in front of them.

You swallowed thickly and slowly turned in a circle. This was the oddest bunch of people you had ever seen – the majority of them were wearing an orange shirt with the words 'Camp Half-Blood' written across the chest, and almost all of them had necklaces with clay beads around their necks. You looked over at Lance, who was busy waving at a random boy, and saw that he, too, had a necklace – only his consisted of a lot more clay beads than everybody elses. You could just barely make out sixteen beads which had been carefully seamed through the chain.

“Good work, Lance.”

The voice startled you. You span around, looked through the flames to see a man standing before you – he had a brown beard forming, his buff arms folded in front of him. His hair was greying, and yet you were still fairly certain that he would not hesitate to knock you out if he needed to.

Lance grinned brightly, wrapping a skinny arm around your shoulders as if he was showing off some kind of prize. You were much too confused and much too terrified to move out of his grip.

“It was my pleasure, Chiron. Sorry it – uh – took a little longer than I had originally planned-”

“Four days?” a girl in green spoke up.

Lance shot her a warning look. “Alright, maybe I underestimated just how long it would take to find her, but she's here now and that's all that matters.” He turned back to Chiron, grinning once again. “So, Big Guy, what do I get in return for bringing our delicate little princess home?”

You frowned. Chiron had no reaction, giving you the illusion that Lance spoke like this often.

“You have the honour of showing her around camp until her claiming is official,” said Chiron.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, hold on a second!” Lance exclaimed. “What? I've just spent four days hauling ass across the country trying to find her, and then you make me mentor her, as well?”

“You're not mentoring her. You're showing her around. And besides, you're really the only person who can – you're the only other child of a Big Three god. You can show her the ropes.”

The ropes? Big Three?

You sidestepped out of Lance's grip with as much confidence as you could muster up. Your knees were still achingly weak from the whole blanket fiasco, but you forced yourself to stay upright.

“I am here, you know,” you said, waving your hand. “I don't know what any of this means, but I want to go home. This is kidnapping.”

“Ooh, what is she gonna do? Call the police?” a taunting voice jeered from outside the flames.

“I wouldn't mess with her, Lotor. She'll get the skeletons on you.”

A chorus of snickers rang out around you, causing you to flush red despite having absolutely no idea what they were laughing about – surely calling the police would be a genuine threat? Why were the acting as if it wasn't?

“Alright, Lotor, that's enough,” Chiron scolded. “Somebody extinguish these flames and let Lance and Y/N out. We have a lot to get done today with our new arrival.”

“How do you know my-”

Your question came to an abrupt halt as the flames that had circled you were blown away by a wind that hadn't been present seconds before.

Chiron wasn't exactly what you had been expecting, as you could now see.

Now that the flames had died down, you were given a perfect view of Chiron's lower half – his lower half, where legs were supposed to be. Human legs, you preferred. But no. Where his torso ended and legs were supposed to begin, was fur. Brown fur, pleasantly groomed that drifted down into four legs and the back end of a horse.

You choked on air. You wanted to stumble away, to run as far away from this messed up place as you possibly could, but you were frozen, gazing at this half-horse half-man creature in front of you.

Chiron smiled knowingly. “Dinner shall begin in an hours time. Until then, Lance will lead you to your cabin and get you settled in.”

You couldn't find the breath in you to argue.

---

“I think I owe you an apology,” Lance said as you and him walked side-by-side through the camp you were still struggling to get used to. “I rushed you when there was no need to rush you. Dinner is an hour away, so we have plenty of time to kill.”

You shook your head. “Please stop talking. Just for two seconds.”

Lance didn't listen. “It's a lot to take in, isn't it?”

“That's an understatement.”

“Chiron's really nice. I've only ever seen him kick someone in the teeth twice, and the person he kicked deserved it.” Lance shot you a glance, clearly checking to see if you had taken his joke in stride.

You hadn't. You kept your facial expression neutral, your trembling hands tucked into the pockets of your ripped jeans. It took everything in you not to scream at the top of your lungs, not to ask the questions that were brinking on the edge of your mind – you were still fairly certain you had just died, and this was your brain shutting down.

Lance awkwardly coughed into the silence, seeming, for the first time, to not know what to say.

He led you silently to a large cabin on the far side of the camp; there were twelve of them in total, creating a 'U' shape around the camp; different people crowded around them, coming in and out of them – a lot more people than you thought the cabin could fit. There had to be at least a thousand people in this camp – how all of them could fit in twelve, fairly small cabins was completely beyond you.

You had learned not to question such things, though.

“This is where you'll be sleeping,” Lance said once the two of you finally arrived at the door. The cabin was charcoal black, plain bar a skull and crossbones which was situated over the door.

“Cosy,” you grunted.

Lance gave you a reassuring smile before he pushed open the door and let you walk in first. You stepped inside – again, there was nothing special on the inside. In fact, it looked as if this cabin hadn't even been touched. There were spiderwebs clinging to the corners of the roof, and you had to untangle yourself from one that had been stretched across the doorway. There were spiders and woodlice skittering along the floor, and there was a single bunk bed placed in the centre of the room – one that had clearly only been placed there for you. The white sheets were pure white, crisp, looking freshly washed. It was a direct contrast to the rest of the room, which truly looked as if it had never seen a feather duster.

“I'm not sure if the spiderwebs are for decoration or if this place just has a bad spider problem,” Lance said, stepping in beside you. “But at least they bothered to give you fresh sheets!”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

Lance sighed then. “I'm sorry it's not much. I know what it feels like to walk into a cabin and see it empty whenever everybody else has brothers and sisters to greet them – it gets easier. I mean, I'm guessing.”

You raised a brow. “All the people here are related?”

Lance's eyes snapped open. “Gods forbid, no! Could you imagine if I was related to Keith?” He fake gagged, shaking his head. “No. No way. But everybody in the one cabin is related. If you had a brother or sister on your godly side, they would stay in this cabin as well.”

“Godly side?”

Lance ignored your query. “But you don't, so you're the only one who belongs to this cabin. You understand?”

“I – I think so.”

“It's like me – I have no brothers and sisters either, so my cabin is empty all the time as well. I don't really like staying in there when I can help it – it gets a bit lonely.”

“And Chiron doesn't let other people stay over?”

“What, like a sleepover?”

“I guess so.”

Lance shrugged. “I mean, I'm sure he would let me have a sleepover, but people in camp tend to avoid me whenever they can.”

This sparked your interest. You turned to face him fully now, one eyebrow raised in question. “Why?”

“I'm a child of one of the Big Three – people are frightened of us, Y/N.” The way he said your name sent a chill down your spine that you couldn't quite explain – he said it as if he had known you forever, as if he could already feel some weird connection sparking between you both. “It's harsh, but there's nothing we can do about it. Our parents are powerful-”

“You keep talking about parents,” you interrupted. “I only know my mother, and she left me ages ago. I don't have parents.”

Lance's face morphed then, as if he was only just now coming to some deep realisation. His small smile faded, the crease in his brow disappeared and he stared at you with wide eyes.

His Adams apple bobbed before he said, “You don't – You don't know?”

“Know what?” you asked. “Know why I'm here? Because I have absolutely no idea.”

“Oh, gods,” Lance whispered. “I can't be the one to tell you. I don't – I don't know how I would even-”

“Tell me what?” you exclaimed, throwing your hands out. “This isn't funny! First you take me to this freaky camp against my will, and now you won't even tell me what you mean when you talk about my parents. You're lucky I haven't-”

“Your dad is a god, Y/N.”

You froze, hands still outstretched to your sides. You looked over Lance's expression, half expecting him to start laughing that usual, annoying laugh of his that had been all you had heard for the past few hours. But he was standing still, his lips downturned in a sad frown, his hands stuffed in his pockets now.

You slowly started to chuckle. “You must really think kidnapping is some massive joke. Just because I'm homeless doesn't mean the police won't take me seriously.”

“Y/N, your dad is a god,” Lance repeated, more stern this time. “You haven't been officially claimed yet, but we all know who you your father is – it's difficult to keep quiet whenever you're a child of one of the Big Three.”

“Stop joking around. I'm being-”

“Hades,” Lance croaked out, and the name sent an ice cold feeling running down your back. “You're a child of Hades, Y/N. The god the Underworld.”

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polyrolemodels · 5 years

Video

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Poly Role Models: Janet Bruesselbach

PolyRoleModels: Well Welcome to PolyRoleModels. Would you like to introduce yourself?

Janet Bruesselbach: Hi I’m Janet. I live in New York. I’m a 33 year old bisexual artist.

PolyRoleModels: Awesome! Uh So how long have you been polyamorous or how long you've been in practicing polyamory?

Janet Bruesselbach: I would say that I've been instinctively polyamory my entire- polyamorous my entire adult life but- but practicing actively since I was 21.

PolyRoleModels: Okay.

Janet Bruesselbach: And that was still not even all that like, well-organized. But when I hit 23 then it was sort of like “Okay you're single and now you can start to structure things the way it you want.”

PolyRoleModels: Yeah. I mean very few of us actually have it together at age 21. So yeah.

Janet Bruesselbach: Yeah but it was- definitely something I knew that I- like I was not capable of exclusive relationships. I’ve always known that.

PolyRoleModels: Fair.

Janet Bruesselbach: It just took me a while to recognize that a default existed you know? I had to like deal with a default.

PolyRoleModels: Yes I understand that.

Janet Bruesselbach: Yeah.

PolyRoleModels: So what does your relationship dynamic look?

Janet Bruesselbach: I have at the moment one primary. And have been somewhat lazy about dating for the past few years. It's been more like maybe just the motivation isn't there. Maybe I'm just getting older, right? But I have a few other partners. Some are romantic. Some are sexual. One is like long-distance romantic. Another is like primarily sexual and they all kind of have different dynamics. And I sometimes like my husband and I'd like date the same people, which is kind of exciting when it happens. But uhm it hasn't it hasn't gone as far in like multiple dynamics as- as it could.

PolyRoleModels: Fair enough. Well what aspect of polyamory do you feel you excel at?

Janet Bruesselbach: Probably communication and lowering drama as much as possible.

PolyRoleModels: Okay what aspect do you feel you struggle with?

Janet Bruesselbach: Uhm? I don't know I should have looked at other people's responses to this, because then I would have been like “Oh yeah obviously that.”

PolyRoleModels: Fair enough.

Janet Bruesselbach: Maybe maybe setting boundaries.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah?

Janet Bruesselbach: Yeah I tend to not be great at sort of like defining how things are and- and so it's become something I'm just more conscious of. I'm also- there's just sometimes I’m more dismissive of people's feelings.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah.

Janet Bruesselbach: Than I should be. So that's yeah. I would also say that a positive thing that I like doing is this sort of matchmaking thing. And it's something that I realized that that I did, so it's like this feeling I get first was like if I'm- if I like somebody a lot, I start to think of all the other people that they would like.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah.

Janet Bruesselbach: So it's like I'm projecting other people's desires and like try to like yeah, trying to expand the network in a way

PolyRoleModels: Well like how do you how do you address that- that and the boundaries? Like how do you feel like you overcome that?

Janet Bruesselbach: I tend to just put the brakes on myself a lot so that uh… And I- again I’m not- I don't have as many examples because I didn't sort of stay. I stay back when I'm not sure what to do, right.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah.

Janet Bruesselbach: Yeah.

PolyRoleModels: In terms of risk aware or safe for sex how do you and your partners protect one another?

Janet Bruesselbach: So the primary and I are fluid bonded. So we don't really use anything with each other anymore.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah.

Janet Bruesselbach: Everyone else I with will sort of check in about what we've been- how often we've been tested and will always use like a condom or a- or a latex boundary. Gloves, etc.

PolyRoleModels: What is the worst mistake you've made in your polyamorous history and how did you rebound from that?

Janet Bruesselbach: So that was the sort of like uh 21 to 23 difference.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah.

Janet Bruesselbach: That was when I got into this like obsessive relationship with my boyfriend's friend. And this was like during a road trip so that we were all like sharing a car while it was happening. And so like after that, I realized that I was like emotionally involved with both of them and I like- I didn't want to have to choose, so we were just like okay this is our relationship but. The friend was not- was like very mono. And so I like let him kind of like push me into making decisions that I didn't feel like I needed to make. And like once we opened that relationship, like my boyfriend went and like dated around a little bit, and I was like a “Yay, great!” But like the whole thing was still just because I was like obsessed with this other guy so eventually… [inaudible] Like that friend and- and I both brok up with who we were with at the time in our like traditional hetero relationship stance. And then like tried to date long-distance and it didn't work, and part of why it didn't work was that I like still felt like I was being limited. And like what I needed was more experience at that point.

PolyRoleModels: I get that. I get that. And so what was like the take away? I had to rebound

Janet Bruesselbach: That I needed to be very clear early on that I was not going to be exclusive. That I- the levels of emotional attachment and like the boundaries that people wanted to set with me would be negotiated verbally from then on. It was also an element of like knowing that I couldn't necessarily be totally honest with everybody. Like communicating what I needed to communicate.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah.

Janet Bruesselbach: Because the long-term partner that I'd been with- what part of like the strength of our relationship was that we were always, always honest.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah.

Janet Bruesselbach: Like two a fault and so that strained from like the relationship with this friend. Like that was the thing where it was like I should not tell him everything that goes on in this other relationship. Because it's- it hurts both of them. But now- now that like- now that I sort of establish things better with my partners, like I have a lot of fun talking about intimate details. Or just like the relevant ones you know the ones that will turn people on.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah fair. So what self-identities are important to you and how do you feel like being polyamorous intersects with or affects those identities?

Janet Bruesselbach: I'm not even sure if I call myself bi or pan at this point but that's- that's pretty important to me. Like definitely- like I have a lot more romantic feeling for women than I do for men but I tend to interact more sexually with men or just better sexually with men so there's- there's like this weird sort of structure to it.

PolyRoleModels: Right.

Janet Bruesselbach: There's like it's- it's not- it's not like I'm attracted to every person in the same way. I would say there aren't a lot of other like notable identities. Like I hate that- like I don't like that whiteness can be an identity but it’s kind of there. Because like a lot of my relationships are interracial and so like it comes up. It comes up a lot.

PolyRoleModels: Makes sense.

Janet Bruesselbach: I don't know. I'm Jewish, but I was raised atheist and my mom was very, very honest with me about like her sexual openness of her practices because she was engaged in BDSM, and my dad wasn't into it, so they had this arrangement.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah.

Janet Bruesselbach: Yeah, so like I didn't grow up in a way where like things that I realize were normal were actually normal.

PolyRoleModels: Understood. Do you have any groups, projects, websites, blogs, etc., that you're involved with that you'd like to promote?

Janet Bruesselbach: Well, the last big project that I'm the most proud of is Daughters of Mercury; that was a few years to go and I’ve sort of like closed it because I made so many paintings and then like kind of sent them out to everybody. And also because like I wanted to limit how like as a cis-woman, I was using trans women. Like I’m very like- like that is such a like strong community that I feel like I've been privileged to watch, and to like be involved with. And so yeah like that's it's a- it's a series of life-sized, full-length portraits of trans women, or like trans femme. Like some are non-binary. And like most of them are some of them are partners or were partners, and some of them were just people that I like really admire and like. All of them, I just like loved them and thought they were beautiful, and wanted to give them money and attention, and like share their work. Um so, and at the same time I was trying to get like a nice sort of like diversity of personalities in that.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah I definitely understand that with my own work that being the same way.

Janet Bruesselbach: Yeah, my more recent portraits of just I've just sort of been like doing smaller ones, but it's a bit more- it's sort of intersectionally interesting because the point of it is to try and paint people who would never think to commission a portrait, but who like I see just being like beautiful people every day. And so like many of them were struggling with like mental or physical disabilities. Many are in marginalized populations. There's a lot of like interestingly gendered people. So like well it's really just like my friend network right, but it's also like you know people who are- who are having to struggle in America today.

PolyRoleModels: Yeah I think I understand. I think I understand. Alright well thank you so much for taking the time and being a part of PolyRoleModels.

Janet Bruesselbach: Thank you Kevin. You’re doing- you’re doing wonderful work. And I apologize, I’m a little bit boring, but um…

PolyRoleModels: I don’t think you are.

Janet Bruesselbach: Now you know you're inspiring need to like be more active in this community so…

PolyRoleModels: Awesome. I'm always that when- anytime any of my work impacts anybody else's work so thank you for saying that.

Janet Bruesselbach: Thank you.

PolyRoleModels: Have a good night.

Janet Bruesselbach: Yeah you too.

—

Support Inclusive Polyamorous Representation at https://www.patreon.com/PolyRoleModels

#Bisexual #polyamory #polyamorous #pansexual #atheist #jewish

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rousseaubsc2b · 5 years

Text

Date Night In

Sherlock went on a date, and John and I stayed in.

John sat down at the desk with a bowl of rice and beans and I fixed myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. We'd talked earlier about frying some fish, but my blood sugar decided to drop as soon as I made it in and I needed to eat fast. I even had a snack late this afternoon... oh well.

"So," he mentioned as I sat down across from him. "Can you give me a little more insight on what's been going through your mind today?"

I took a bite and sighed. Think think think. "Well... basically what I told you before I left work. It's entirely too obvious that my body is on board with this." I had to laugh. John made a face in agreement, something of a well, yes, very much so. "And my heart... but then my brain goes, wait. You don't understand what you're getting into here."

"Okay."

He knows I don't make eye contact. It's a thing. He doesn't make me, and I tend to look all over when we talk. Right now his spoon is fascinating. "And... it's right."

"All right." A slow nod, he purses his lips. "Tell me more?" It's not so much of a question as it is him asking if I'm able to at the moment.

And John is an extremely patient listener. He gives me time to think and put my words together. He sees me look halfway across the room at something entirely irrelevant.

I am so lucky.

"My brain goes... Is this how you wanted this to be? If you do this, this way, this time in your life, are you going to regret it later? And I've done some reading, it's likely. But then on the way home, while I was driving, it kind of crept into the forefront of my mind."

He looked up. Did not speak a word.

"My body wants its hormones appeased. My heart wants you. My brain wants forever."

A single nod.

"I'm still thinking. I've got something to say, it just won't come together for me in a way you can understand."

"Take your time."

I heard the clock ticking behind me. "I do this thing in my head where I... walk myself through situations in order to better understand them, to figure out how to prepare for it, kind of a rehearsal. And I've... had a little experience in this realm, I suppose, and what happened was... I need all three of those things to do well. Especially the brain part."

I'd confused him at least a little, but he was trying to follow.

"My body is happy, yes. My heart is happy in a relationship. But when that person walks away... and I'm not saying that you are, I'm saying I don't know. It's an unknown right now. I can't help that. So, hypothetically, what if, you know. But with my ex boyfriend... that's what messed me up."

"You two were intimate?"

"We, um... we did some things. And I was upset that he got to do that with me and then leave me. It was... emotionally, it took me a while to process, and I can say that I've put it behind me now. I was sixteen at the time, and I was very attached to him. But I don't like the way that made me feel in the end, not at all. And that emotion I really don't have a word for."

"Okay." His bowl was nearly empty now, and I took the moment of silence to eat part of my sandwich. "So, can I ask, Emma -- are you a virgin?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I thought you might be."

"Is it... that... obvious?"

"Um... Well... maybe a bit. But I will say this, and hear me out. You're very mature about it, and I think that's significant for a couple of reasons."

"Okay."

"One, and you may know this already, but your mind... With autism, it's pretty common for someone to come across as younger than they actually are, and you do. Until you told me, I had no idea you were in your thirties, I would have guessed mid-twenties."

"I get told I look like I'm twenty four all the time."

"You look younger, and your mind -- for whatever reason, whether it's how your brain is wired or if it's an effect of the social aspect of autism -- is "younger" than those of other people your age. I don't know if you've come across that."

"I never really had much common mental ground with my peers in school, especially in my teens. I was just... not on their level. A lot of it was social, a lot of it was anxiety."

"Right. You're working with an entirely different operating system. They're all running Windows and you've got a Mac. And in terms of the incidence of autism, that's not too far off the mark. Anyway, what I was getting at -- I swear, I'll get there eventually -- "

I laughed. It made him smile.

"--One, your brain is younger than normal, and two, with that in mind, you are very emotionally mature about sex. And I find that extremely significant."

I must have given him my puzzled look.

"Because you've gone through all this in your head. You know how your emotions react in certain situations now, you know what you don't want to happen... and... you know what you want in a relationship. Actually, at this point, I don't think want is a strong enough word -- you know what you need, like you said, to do well. To feel safe."

I was thinking. It all felt a bit emotional to me, and I tried hard not to retreat from this. What he said was important and it was truthful, and it told me that he understood. Maybe he understood more than I did. In university once, a professor in one of our pedagogy classes handed us all our evaluation folders, and I opened mine to find a note someone had written about how I had been having mental health problems. We were supposed to be looking at the tests we'd taken, but I couldn't bear to even open mine. I felt exactly the same right now, sitting here across from my boyfriend -- afraid to open that folder, to hear what he'd figured out about me. Afraid to read someone's notes about why I'd made a failing grade.

In some corner of my brain, though, I knew I had no reason to be afraid. A very small corner that said, He's not like the others. He gets you. He's not leaving you.

But what if he does?

John must have noticed I'd zoned out or stopped listening or something, and he reached over to touch my hand. "Emma?"

I hadn't realised I was crying. "Oh God," I wiped my eyes under my glasses. "I'm sorry, I just... I had a... flashback to something."

"You okay?"

I nodded hastily. You don't need my emotional trivia, I promise.

"Tell me those three things you figured out again, walk me through that."

"My hormones, which are completely out of control."

He counted off on his fingers. One. "Biological needs."

"My heart. I love you."

Two. "I love you too. Emotional needs."

"My brain. It wants forever."

Three. "Commitment." I nodded. "You want me, forever."

"Yes."

The way John smiled... his eyes smiled too. They don't do that very often, but I've seen it a couple more times recently. This time, they really smiled.

"And I mean that," I said, and suddenly the verbal flood opened up. "I'm Catholic, we don't do divorce. Once you marry me -- that's it. You're stuck with me. For good. That's what I want. I want one person to love and do amazing things in bed with, forever. Because the thought of... that not being the case... I-I-I can't do that emotionally. That stuff... emotionally bonds you to someone. It's incredibly strong, and it feels like... like some kind of violation when it's broken. I can't do that, and I won't. It's too much."

Now he smiled like he knew something I didn't. John picked up his phone and searched for something. I watched him. Ate another bite of my sandwich.

"Remember what I said about no pressure," he said, looking up at me without moving his head. "Tell me one thing, though, just out of curiosity: at this point, right now, with everything we've talked about, do you consider yourself emotionally ready for a sexual relationship with someone?"

"Oh, hell no."

He chuckled under his breath, but he smiled too. "Okay." Still looking for something. "Now, put all of that to the side."

"All of it."

"Every bit. Now think about this."

He turned his phone over in both hands and showed me a picture of a ring. Two, actually. Wedding band, too. Simple but very elegant, silver, solitaire with an understated-but-not-plain band. Not gaudy. And a lab diamond, like I'd said I wanted. Diamonds may be other girls' best friends but they're also ungodly expensive and are usually mined under questionable ethical conditions; I'd decided many years ago that a diamond was just not something I wanted the responsibility of keeping up with and/or possibly losing. I couldn't find my car keys if they didn't have a tracker on them. Expensive jewelry did not seem like a wise life choice.

My heart decided to try to run a marathon. I do not take responsibility for the reactions of my face in that moment, it was completely autonomous from the rest of me. "Is that it?"

John bit his lower lip. "Maybe."

I took his phone and looked closer. "Oh, you've pegged me."

Without missing a beat, he murmured, "It'll be here Tuesday."

I must have screamed, because Mrs Hudson came upstairs in quite the hurry.

--Emma

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