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stevenuniversetanzanite · 4 years

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Ally x Cordelia x Reader (part 4)

I’m more active on posting on wattpad currently or at least they come out straight after writing.

This is two and a half times longer than the other parts. I tried to edit it but I don't think that went very well so... Enjoy.

Also, I may have made Cordelia a dick in this, but I'll fix it in a later chapter maybe.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five (will be added when posted)

Late in the night with nothing but your phone to light the inside of your car, the button for the dome lights in your car jammed from childish use years ago. Your car was due for an upgrade but instead of replacing the heap of junk you poorly maintained it and persuaded the mechanics to pass the heap of metal as safe for driving.

You're phoned buzzed once more.

Your forehead rested on the steering wheel, you pulled yourself to sit upright and glanced at the phone.

Your car was parked a block away from the building. The key in the lock ready to start the car's engine. The phone was nestled amongst the stolen blanket on the passenger's side. The phone confirmed your suspicion about the number of missed text messaged and phone calls, not only from Ally and Cordelia but also varies students warning you that you were in big trouble when you got home.

It would be another seven hours until you got back to the school and you'd have to count in for a pit stop or two to pick up coffee or another caffeine-filled beverage. A part of you was thankful for your long nights back in the hospital (also uni), it was useful for all-nighters.

It could be another seven hours before you'd have to respond back to anyone, there's not much they can do. Cordelia had the other girls to look after and Ally- well she has her son. You had no one- not anymore.

Then again, Cordelia would go hell and back to protect her own and ignoring the fact that you were her girlfriend, were still 'one of her girls'. Nothing like this had happened, at least with someone she cared about.

You sighed. You better make sure she doesn't come searching for you. Of the two, you'd be in hotter water with the blonde. Considering the time, they'd most likely be together.

The phone picked up immediately.

"Hello," you said.

"Y/n, oh thank goodness you're safe," The voice on the other end said.

"Why wouldn't I be," you kidded your voice quivering.

"You're so stupid why would you go without telling us. We told you it was a trap. You could have died."

"I didn't- don't you worry. I'm fine" you said. Should you tell them about your Discovery. Probably. It would cause her to worry more about your recklessness but who cares it's not a targeted attack, but the witches just got caught in the Crossfire. Then again, how are you going to explain away your findings? They didn't know, couldn't know. "It was a dead-end nothing came of it I'll see you when I get back home ok."

You hung up and powered on your 7-hour drive back to New Orleans.

It wasn't until hours after you'd left that the two noticed learned of your absence. They came up with a plan of attack when a student interrupted to inform them of a student's injury. When asked why the girl didn't inform you, they were informed that you left in a rush, muttering something about having business to take care of.

Everyone in the school was now aware of your absence and while Cordelia tried to help the injured student, Ally dialled your mobile.

"No response?" Ally shook her head, her phone still pressed to her ear in case you picked up. She paced around Cordelia's office begging for you to pick up. It was close to midnight but neither of them dared to sleep until they heard from you. The only thing that stopped Cordelia from dashing out was the fact that she was sure she'd have some sort of vision or someone in the school would if something accord. It was the only thought she had that could slightly calm her down even if it weren't true.

"I can't believe she did that. Why- this isn't like her-"

"Yes, it is," Ally cut in. "It's exactly like her."

"She's never done this before-"

"She goes against us all the time" Cordelia was too shocked to listen. "When it comes to the woman's safety when has she ever listened-"

"She never used to do this when she was in school."

"That was like what 15 years ago"

"13" Cordelia corrected.

"My point exactly. Are you the same person you were 13 years ago?"

"No but-"

"But nothing. The moment she left the school you no record of her life. You don't know how she became the person she is today. She had experiences that shaped her into the person she is now. But in the 2 years she's been with us, has she shown any sign of the person she was before."

Cordelia paused and thought about it. To an extent you were, like anyone, you kept the same core soul you had before but the circle of people you surrounded yourself around was different and with that came different reactions and experiences for you. You were no longer the good-natured student; she would go so far to say this is a late rebellious phase. You always cared about others safety over your own but this was a step to far. If you were like this before then she never noticed. You still had some sense to talk to, allow to be helped instead of playing this 'saviour' complex you'd adopted. She wondered where that came from.

The two had seen you in times of need, your recent development of 'sleepwalking' as an example. The two offered to help you figure out where this developed from, but you were apprehensive.

Cordelia was thankful the doors were shut. She crumbled into the nearest seat, covering her face with her hands. "What do we do?"

Ally moved closer to her girlfriend, resting her wait on the armrest, she pulled the blonde closer. She rubs circles on the woman's shoulder with her thumb while staring vacantly at the opposing wall. Before Ally could speak, Cordelia's phone rung. Cordelia lept to answer it.

"Y/n, oh thank goodness you're safe," Cordelia said relieved to hear your voice.

When the phone call was done, Cordelia placed her phone down on the table and leant into Ally's body muttering, "This woman is going to be the death of me."

The two remained in the comfort of each other until Ally suggested that they should head off to bed. They cuddled up with each other, Cordelia rested her head on Ally's chest. Ally ran her hands through Cordelia's hair wondering what the woman was thinking. Cordelia fixated on the roof, occasionally her hand fiddled with the fabric of Ally's nightshirt.

Ally was as stressed, if not more than Cordelia, but hid it from the other woman. Her stress would only make the situation worse. She rushed around, dialling your number trying to find out if you were safe. Now that she knew you were, she had new worries. Why did you make the rash decision of going yourself?

A part of her was shocked that she wasn't the one anxious, in a sense, she caused you to act. If you had never known, you couldn't have gone. Then again, the stress from the incident had prepared her body for the sudden anxiety. Who cares about that now? They both needed a distraction until you returned.

"You've known Y/N for a long time, what was she like when she was younger?" Ally asked.

"Very similar. However, she had less friends." She pulled her gaze from the ceiling to the brunette. "She had this one, they were inseparable, we used to joke that they would end up marrying each other they were so close," She chuckled at the thought. Then she stopped halfway through and thought to herself before continuing. Ally didn't understand why that was until Cordelia spoke again. " I hadn't heard from her in years, they must have fought, I can't explain why Y/n wouldn't speak about her otherwise. I remember bringing her up not long after Y/n came back and she brushed me off. The only other time I brought it up was by text asking if she had any of her recipes that the two used to make. They are the best chefs. You won't guess that with how often Y/n has nearly set the kitchen on fire but their Chocolate Cheesecake was to die for." She began to list all the desserts you'd use to make and all the meals your friend would make.

"They used to host bake-offs and convinced all students to get involved. The kitchen was always a disaster by the end of it. You'd be finding offcuts days after. We had to implement a rule for when the two girls hosted this torment they had to clean up afterwards. To which they made it a rule to tidy as you go."

"Did they judge?" Ally asked.

"No, that's the best part, they managed to convince the teachers to judge," Cordelia smiled as she reminisced. "Most of us would have helped but I know for a fact one of the teachers despised her. Can't remember why. OH, I forgot-"

"What?"

"You remember My Auntie Myrtle?" By name, Ally remembered. She never met her. "One time she came in for a visit during one of the bake-offs and she unintentionally entered the 'war zone' between Y/n and one of the older students and let's just say no one left without being covered in food that day. Y/n came second that day, I think she lost because she started the food fight.

Cordelia went on about stories from your school days until the two fell to sleep.

It was early in the morning when you finally parked outside the school. You hid the blanket in the glove compartment before exiting and locking up your car.

Delphi trust, how could it be Delphi trust. You and your hand through your hair I think is getting Tangled in the locks. more importantly, how did they get those items? you hadn't seen any of them in 18 months if not longer why haunt you with them now.

Before you could pull your keys out the door swung open it was Ally. You pulled up about 7 she should have been at work, yet she stood there front of you in her pyjamas. You couldn't decipher her expression a bit over 7 hours since you last spoke, she had long enough to calm down and talk with Cordelia. Her hand was still clenched around the doorknob and the door closed except The Gap she stood between. Unlike the other woman, you have yet to speak to her.

You slowly approached her, running potential dialogue through your head. What would she say?

You suck your hands into your pockets, your hand's fiddle with the loose ring. You almost forgot you stole it or did they steal it from you? You need to find it a hiding spot. Maybe with its pair.

"Are you trying to save me you ask?"

You can tell she's fighting off the urge to scold you. She went to say something but stopped herself. She shook her head, opened the door wider and said, "She somehow managed to blame me for your idiocy." As if Ally not sharing add inspired you to do the same. The truth was you've had your secrets and wanted to keep them to yourself.

"Well, you're a bad influence," you teased. You always joked to try and lighten the mood but always got scolded for it seriousness the others to talk cramps your style. You are lucky to be alive you knew that you didn't need the others to telling you out your areas you could do that enough on your own.

She smiled sadly as she allowed you access into the school. She knew there was no point in scolding you, you never listen to her advice. You may be younger but you're not a child and like to make it evident every time the two tried the parent you. She had her own child to worry about and Cordelia the girls- even if they are most of them are adults themselves.

"Should I avoid her or get it over with," you asked.

"Best get over with." She remained distant and you made no attempt to get closer. When you turned to leave, Ally called out your name. In acknowledgement, you turned around to face her.

She pulled you into a suffocating hug. "Don't ever do that again."

"Okay."

"You scared the shit out of us."

"I'm sorry."

You knew this is not how she normally reacted, but she's had hours to calm down. Your journey to Cordelia's office lasted an eternity.

You knocked on the door waiting to be let in. The door opens Cordelia looking down at you blank way. She opens the door wider, allowing you to move inside in her office. You shuffle inside and station yourself in the middle of the room. She moved passed a seating area to a desk. You knew you were in for it. She only ever used the desk for formal meetings or for serious occasions when someone's trouble.

She asked you to take a seat. You settled in the armchair across from her desk, the seat wasn't comfortable from lack of use. A part of you was praying for a similar interrogation as Ally's two days prior.

Their rooms air was stiff. The curtain drawn shut blocking the morning light from entering the room. The fluorescent light flickered every now and again causing you more tension. You watched Cordelia organize herself, fighting every urge to snap are you, calling you reckless, stupid and other words you'd need a thesaurus for. You were surprised to she was more concerned one seeing as it's Ally's trouble a mess to begin with. Ally was concerned but hold it back due to the scolding she knew you're going to get from your Supreme.

The woman didn't they speak nor did she let you. A part of you wished you never entered the room. Delaying it and wrapping your head around the situation may have benefited you in the long run. So, you would have told her the truth, revealing your findings. Not that it wasn't too late now but you were into too deep.

The woman stared you down, "Why did you do it Y/n?"

"I don't know."

"That's not a good enough answer."

"Yeah yeah."

"Y/n, I'm being serious."

"I know"

"Then why aren't you listening to me?"

"I am."

"Then why did you do it?"

"I said I don't know."

"You're leaving me no choice-"

"What are you going to do?" Cordelia stood and headed over to one of the bookcases in the room. "Cordelia? What are you going to do?"

"I forbid you from leaving the school grounds-"

"You're grounding me?" you laughed. "You serious?"

"You clearly can't be trusted to left to your own regards." Cordelia scanned the bookcase before pulling out a spellbook. "It's for your own safety."

"Safety? Fuck that, you're trying to take away my freedom. Who do you think you are?!"

"I'M THE FUCKING SUPREME!"

She flipped open the book, searching for the corrected page. She wasn't planning on giving you the choice. If you weren't going to do it willingly, she'd force you to stay. You caught on to her plan and tore the book from her grasp.

"IS THIS YOUR WAY OF SHOWING POWER OVER ME, HUH?" You yelled. "I WON'T LET YOU CONTROL ME AND YOU SURE AS HELL AIN'T TRAPPING ME HERE!"

"Y/N, YOU HAVE NO SAY IN THIS!"

"I HAVE VERY SAY IN THIS. IT'S MY LIFE!" you stumbled back to the door. "You know what? I'm done. I'm done with this-"

"Y/n-" Cordelia grabbed you by your wrist stopping you. She tried to use her powers to find out anything about you or why your acting like this. Anything to justify why you did what you did, but she got nothing. You were blank.

"I'm done with this Cordelia."

The door opened revealing a concerned Ally. You yanked yourself free and exited the room as soon as possible, brushing shoulders with Ally.

"What did you say to her?"

"Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid." Ally did a once over the blonde before leaving her to check on you.

Ally found you on your way back to your car.

"Y/n!" She called out your name. "Y/n!"

"What do you want?"

"Don't talk to me like that, I'm not the one you're mad at."

"Sorry. Can I go now, or are you trying to trap me here too?"

"Is that what she said?"

"Was even planning on cursing me to this place."

You turn around and opened your car door.

"Where are you going?"

"The store," you said before hopping into the driver's side. "And don't you worry, I plan on coming back, my stuffs here." You needed to get out of here before Cordelia could trap you to the place. Ally found your last sentence odd, of course, you'd be back, this was only a fight, right? You hadn't called off things between them.

"I'll talk to her for you. Try and come up with a common ground."

"There is no common ground, Ally. She wants me to be her prisoner."

"It's not like that-"

"Could have fooled me." You slammed the door shut. You had a feeling Cordelia was watching from the window. Her office faced the street.

Ally stormed through the school all the way to Cordelia's office. She flung the door open.

"You threatened to trap her here?!" Ally lashed out, "What on earth possessed you to think that was a smart decision?"

"I told you to look after-"

"You have no right to tell me what to do. I am not a witch, you have no status over me and even if you did, what gives you the right?"

"Ally, she's reckless-"

"So?"

"She could have been killed last night. People are after you Ally and she waltzed into the lion's den."

"That doesn't give you the right to trap her here. She isn't your slave, she's your girlfriend, treat her like it."

"Ally-"

"No, I'm not finished. Now do agree she should be monitored after... what she did. Yes, but don't bound her here."

"You're right."

Ally knew what Cordelia wanted to do was wrong but her sticking up for you wasn't purely selfless. Ally needed your freedom so you could take Oz out places he needed to go. Ally being caught up in this mess couldn't go out without being heckled and her other girlfriend is too busy with her supreme status and upkeeping the coven to chauffeur Ally's son around. She could have gotten one of the girls to do it but that was a worst-case scenario.

Everything had gotten back to normal besides all of you searching for the 'unknown' sender. Cordelia apologized and the two agreed someone had to be with you at all times (except while using the bathroom), it didn't matter who it was as long as it was someone in the school. You had the school hours (when you didn't have to teach) off from being monitored because you were helping Oz with his schoolwork. Oz had been kept at home for the week while the adults thought through what they were going to do to keep him from knowing. You were tasked with keeping him ahead of his studies. You were thankful he was still young making the work easier to relearn and teach.

He questioned why he was being kept from school but wasn't complaining besides the fact that he can't see his friends. He'd been allowed to stay with some of them after Cordelia worked her 'charm' in the form of magic on the parents to ensure they'd not mention anything. She rarely used her power of 'persuasion' very often but after both your and Oz's begging she couldn't refuse. After Ally's reputation was guaranteed to be protected, she had no reason to refuse.

Due to the increased number of hours spent together, you decided to surprise him with the Nintendo switch he wanted. You had no place to store it in your office until you set it up so you hid it behind your mountain of shoe boxes in your shared wardrobe.

Alone in your shared walk-in wardrobe, you knelt, going through the belongings you'd stolen from your search.

Within the last five days you managed to find a spot in time where you could sneak the stolen belonging inside. Now, you stored them in an old shoebox that came with your most commonly worn pair of shoes.

Your mind thought back to the note, Happy Anniversary. How could they know?

You were on edge the whole time, maybe you should have told your girlfriends your findings. Regardless you chose to leave them unaware and in turn, must suffer for your stupidity.

You hadn't noticed the others come into the bedroom nor did they notice your presence in the wardrobe.

"You need to talk to her about it."

"I know you said that last time."

"And you haven't spoken about it since."

"It's really not the time Ally."

"It's never the-"

"More now than ever. You're under threat, Ally, what if they come after us too? They know about Y/n. They may even have footage of her sneaking about because she stupidity went out-" She kept revving on about the whole thing they got caught up in. You had yet to catch on to what they were talking about.

You put the blanket back in the box and tucked the shoebox back into your collection of shoes. Making sure the box covered the gift you got for Ally's son. You crept towards the entrances of the wardrobe.

"It's too late for me Ally. End of discussion." What on earth were they talking about? Too late for her, oh god is she getting replaced? No, it's too soon. "I sent the council to check out the address Y/n gave me, or should I say the real address."

"She gave you the wrong address?"

Cordelia nodded, "it wasn't a simple mistake with the number, the street doesn't exist."

Shit, she figured out it was a fake street. Of course you did, you should have done a better job. You needed to get out of here and figure out your next move before they figured out what else you're hiding. You teleported out of the room dashing down to your office where you're meant to be.

"What are you suggesting? That she's the one behind this?"

"You said it yourself earlier, I don't really know her anymore."

"She's been with us for almost two years-"

"Enough time to study someone and send info back."

"She didn't know about Ivy-"

"Do you know where she was in 2016?"

"No."

"Because she never talks about her past."

"You think she was in Michigan?"

"It's not unlikely."

"She would never-"

"But what if she is- All I'm saying is be careful. No one would dash off that quickly unless they had something to hide."

"What do we do once we find out?"

"Act accordingly."

"If you're wrong, you owe her an apology." Cordelia insisted she wasn't wrong but agreed nevertheless. "Couldn't you just read her mind or something?"

"Use the sight? I generally block off using my power, I have tried it a couple of times on her but she's barricaded her memories."

"When did you use it?"

"Most recently after she returned from 'her trip'." Her trip referred to the five days earlier. "I also tried when she was too stubborn to tell us about her 'episodes'. I thought when she was distressed would lower the wall but it was stronger."

It wasn't until the next day when Cordelia found out the building actually was. She called Ally immediately.

"You're saying she's a witch hunter? But she's a witch."

"I can't explain that myself, but she refused to tell us this when she knew who they were."

"Does she know that that's the company that-"

"My ex worked for? Probably. Hell, she's probably one of his side chicks."

"I doubt that-" You had never mentioned or shown interest in men before. Cordelia would most likely explain that away as you were keeping it away from them which Ally would claim was ridiculous.

"Why are you supporting her?"

"Why aren't you? She's shown nothing up until now that would suggest that she'd associate herself with witch hunters. They probably have dirt on her."

Cordelia rolled her eyes.

"I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt-"

"It's not yours to give. You aren't the only one at threat anymore. Ally my girls are in danger-"

"Including Y/n."

"She's not one of us anymore-"

"We haven't confirmed she's done anything-" Ally tried to reason. "She isn't your ex, stop painting her out to be. At least wait until she gets back to explain herself."

You were out with Oz. You had taken him to the park for psychical activity and to get him out of the school. Mainly it was an excuse for you to get away from school, you found the place to crowded with the constant eyes on you. An escape sounded nice and Oz didn't complain. You may have had to offer him a comic book to seal the deal. He would have gone out anyway but the extra incentive was nice.

Ally ended the phone call leaving Cordelia to her own thoughts.

Cordelia stormed down to your office. If you had anything, you'd hid it in your own space, she thought. She shredded the bookcase, flipping books to see if you hid any secrets within the pages. She flung open draws and flicked through files, but nothing showed up pinning you as the culprit. A couple of students in passing watched her tear down your medical posters and swipe the contents of the contents on your desk to the floor. When she caught them she straightened up her act before saying, "Shouldn't you all be in class?" They scampered off soon after.

She thought about other places you could hide something. What about in plain sight? Her eyes lit up, the bedroom. Nothing in the main section or the ensuite. The last place she had to check was the cupboard. The school would need a good cleaning after she was done searching. She hadn't bothered to tidy as she went, set on you being in the wrong so it wouldn't matter.

She was more careful with the wardrobe as she didn't want to wreak any of her or Ally's more expensive clothing. She pulled out the collection of shoeboxes, finding a hidden red and white box. She pushed the box aside hoping the box would be what she sort instead finding a game console. She rose her brow, why was it hidden away in the closet. Maybe you hid the contents inside the box? The box hadn't been opened yet but she was convinced you'd hidden something inside. There were only the console and its extra contents. There were some games hidden behind it and a little tag addressed to Oz written in your handwriting. You bought the boy a game console? You really spoiled him.

"Maybe I'm wrong," she thought aloud as she put all the contents back where she found it.

She went to place the shoes back in front of the box when she noticed a shoebox that shouldn't have been kept. They were to your casual pair of shoes which you never but back in their box. She always had to tell you to place them somewhere where out of the way so she wouldn't trip on them.

She slowly opened the box, "A blanket?" She removed a small knitted blanket from the box to see two rings and some other trinkets. Why did you have these hidden away? Cordelia held the blanket up, allowing it to unfold. She noticed the lavender stitching in the lower corner of the white blanket. She flipped it over revealing the name on it, "Odelia?" she questioned. She raked her brain around the name, the only thing that came to mind was how similar it was to her own. Maybe it was intentional? She assumed it wasn't your blanket, it was two pristine. Was it meant for someone? A child perhaps? "The child," she muttered. The day you were in Oz's room, you sounded like you were speaking to a child. Was that her? Or was Cordelia getting it wrong? She couldn't get much information off the blanket other than it had been used by a child with the last seven years. She rested the blanket on her lap, hoping another item would give her the clue she needed.

She'd gotten you all wrong, you were hiding something but she no longer thought you worked for the witch hunters. Maybe they threatened you or a loved one? She pulled out the pair of rings.

A vision flashed before her eyes. She got a first-person perspective of someone driving in a car. The person chuckled in response to something she heard on the Bluetooth speaker of her car. You're current car.

"Baby~" The woman whined, "I swear your gonna love it."

"This better not be like your last surprise," a voice from the speaker call said. The voice was distorted due to being on the phone, but it was undeniably you. "I still can't go to that park without reliving it."

"Stop being dramatic." The more Cordelia thought she recognised the other woman's voice too. "I dropped Lia at my sister's place-"

"So, we could have some good old fashion alone time~" you purred.

"You wish," the woman laughed. "When do you get off?"

"5. Just in time to catch up."

"On some sleep maybe, how long was your shift?"

"It wasn't that long-"

"But your-"

"Don't get started on this-" You're what? Why did you cut her off, Cordelia thought.

"You need to find a better job."

"I will just give me some time," you said. "I'm thinking of trying to get a job at Miss Robichaux's. I could teach magic there or something."

"You should." The woman encouraged. "God, I miss that place."

"I know. Maybe you can visit me sometime if I work there."

"I'll probably have to pry you out of there too. Doesn't that, uh~ what's her name, she works there."

"Wow, helpful."

"Shut up, the one you were infatuated with, the one that you only settled for me cuz she was straight-"

"I didn't settle for you-"

"Yes, you did. Don't worry I don't care. But if she does swing our way you better not scamper off."

"I wouldn't-"

"All I'm saying is tell me first, I'm open-"

"For a threesome," you said. "You can't even remember her name."

"I don't need to," she said. "I'll learn it again if I ever met her again."

"Why would you meet her?"

"When I visit you at your new job."

"I haven't even applied yet." The woman turned her car right on an interaction. "So, what's the surprise?" The woman chuckled.

A van ran the red light and was coming straight for her car. She swore and tried to swerve out of the way.

"Amber?"

Her vision faded to black.

"Amber!"

Cordelia gasped. Your friend from high school, Amber. Oh god, no wonder you never talked about her. That can't be all, the car was fine now, you wouldn't keep the car your friend died- wait, Cordelia looked at the rings, you married her. She was your wife. You would have mentioned something like that to her, right?

A knock at the door interrupted her thought process.

"Ms Cordelia?" A girl burst into the bedroom.

Cordelia dropped the belongings and rushed over to the door.

"There's been a crash."

#cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia x reader #cordelia goode x reader #ally mayfair richards x reader

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thesaltyace · 3 years

Text

big rant/ramble below, you can safely ignore and move on to the next post in your feed.

Urgh

I shared the results of that autism screener with a quasi-friend who I thought would be "safe" (we used to work together and we connected over his being gay and me being visibly queer) but his response was blergh

Everyone has hints of autism.

okay yeah but this isn't just *hints* of autism. I'm answered yes to symptoms I've had since I was a kid that I've learned to mask or work around as an adult. But I still struggle with them.

He pointed out that he sees me as more ADHD than ASD.

Yeah, fair, and I'd need to see a professional to try to distinguish if my symptoms are ADHD, ASD, or both.

You don't hit the three prongs needed for a diagnosis.

But.... but I do. And the stuff I dealt with as a kid is still stuff I deal with today. I just mask it better. A short and not exhaustive list:

As I kid I had trouble interacting with peers. I didn't have friends, really. I didn't know how to make friends and I didn't try terribly hard to. I acquire friends when someone else "adopts" me and decides that we are friends. And once I became an adult, I have almost never had friends of my own - I share a friend group with my spouse who we're primary connected to through him. I'm okay with that. Maintaining a friendship entirely on my own power sounds impossible and exhausting.

I was okay with not having friends, I liked being alone, but my mom insisted on me being social. She made me join things so that I would have a list of people to invite to parties. I'd honestly have preferred a day of doing stuff I like or just a couple friends. As an adult, I want to be alone on my birthday. I will celebrate with certain friends, separately, usually over a quiet meal. That's it.

I had trouble understanding sarcasm and figurative speech. Like, I understand it now but I still think most figurative speech is annoying. I've been told the way I deliver sarcasm is weird, too.

I liked memorizing movies and quoting them start to finish, I thought it was fun but everyone else thought it was weird. I continued to do this into adulthood but I only quote aloud when I'm alone. Alamo Drafthouse quote-alongs are the BEST. I don't do this with every movie, either, just ones I really like.

Okay actually I also liked to listen to the same album or, in some cases, the same song over and over until I was sick of it (and sometimes even after that point). I mean, just endlessly looping on repeat. Not interspersed with other songs. I do this as an adult a LOT because it's easier with headphones to do this without annoying everyone else around you. Like, often it's fine for me to just put a playlist on shuffle, but I get into Moods where I just want the one album/song over and over. Yesterday I listened to Wellerman about 50 times in a row and only stopped because I had to get up and do something else and that song wasn't "good" for whatever I got up to do.

My special interest as a kid was cats. Literally everything cats, all the time - I sought out obscure facts and could tell you the difference between similar species, and wanted cats involved in literally everything I did. Adults laughed it off as childhood obsession. I was also pretty obsessed with the solar system. I thought asking my peers, as a trivia question, which of Jupiter's moons had its own asteroid (Io, in case you were wondering) was appropriate and interesting and was confused that they didn't know that. That was in fifth grade.

I watched the weather channel for fun. I would watch it for hours and absorb the weekly forecast info just... for fun? I never used it, could never tell you if you should dress a certain way or bring an umbrella or whatever. Everyone thought it was weird.

I was a know-it-all and literally could not stop myself from bluntly correcting people who were wrong. Didn't know or care that it was "rude". I'm still that way but I've learned how to sometimes swallow the urge long enough to find a more tactful way to point it out (but often fail).

I could read on my own before kindergarten, used vocabulary beyond what one would expect for my age, and had a special interest in spelling and grammar throughout my school years. I did not understand how other people weren't interested in learning about it and getting it right. I read at an undergrad level by 4th grade.

I hated loud noises and often covered my ears to block out irritating sounds. I could also hear high pitched noises that even other kids didn't seem to hear (or at least weren't bothered by them). Too much noise sent me into an internal meltdown, I'd just kinda shut down because I couldn't deal with it.

Textures and pressure on my skin bothered the absolute fuck out of me - sock seams, certain fabric materials, socks that weren't equally elastic, one shoe tighter than the other, tags.... all of that. (Also, fun anecdote I just unlocked - when I was 4 or 5 my grandmother started letting me use the soft silk sleep shirt she had as a young woman because I preferred it to anything else. Soft, smooth, no irritating qualities. Bliss. I wanted to wear it all the time.)

Don't get me started on food. Until I was in COLLEGE I mostly subsisted on pasta with either butter or alfredo sauce and chicken. I would eat other things, but pasta and/or chicken was (and still is) my biggest safe/comfort food. I'd eat other stuff mostly if I could control the balance of ingredients, get it made plain, or could confirm the texture wouldn't be offensive (so, like... plain burgers, plain cheese pizza, grilled cheese, mashed potatoes, etc.) I cannot stress this enough - from childhood through COLLEGE I did this. As a kid my mom had to make me a completely separate dish most nights to get me to eat something. My spouse was horrified at what little variety I ate. The only reason I eat so much variety now is that he knows what I do/don't like and tells me in advance if I'll find a texture or taste offensive. Of course, rather than wanting consistent texture like I did when I was younger, I now seek as much texture as possible (so long as they aren't Bad textures) so.... that's fun. But yeah most of my objections to Yucky foods is due to T E X T U R E. Even if I like the taste, the texture overrides it all.

I prefer animals to people. I will seek out animals and interact with them instead of people in the same room. And will pointedly focus on the animal to avoid interacting with people.

I'm perfectly happy with only myself for company. Being with just my spouse counts as me being "alone" though. Always has. I just realized last night that it's because I do minimal to no masking around him because he's a safe person to unmask with and always has been. Never batted an eye at the weird shit I do beyond asking questions about what I was doing or why. And then just "Okay."

Okay honestly just the fact that I want to vent into the void of tumblr instead of actually discussing this with a person - even my spouse! - pretty effectively shows how little it occurs to me to interact with other people directly. o_0

And there are so many more things that I won't list here because I could just go on and on. And like, sure, some of this may certainly overlap with ADHD but my point is that I have enough to point to ASD that it doesn't feel like having a "hint" of autism. And who knows - maybe it is mostly just ADHD and CPTSD stuff interacting in weird ways. Could be!

But just because I can make small talk and make eye contact and do the "normal" shit and I can interact "normally" doesn't mean I LIKE it. I had to LEARN to do those things to avoid having bad social interactions. When I'm by myself or with my spouse, I behave very differently than I do around anyone else. ANYONE. It's not just slightly changing my behavior depending on who I'm with - it's completely suppressing how I naturally would do things if left to my own devices.

Like, the things we recommended to our autistic students who wanted to know how to interact in ways that would help them blend in/be accepted by others ARE THE EXACT THINGS I ALREADY DO. Like, it did not occur to me at the time that neurotypicals literally do not have to think about doing those things. I thought, ah, these students just need to be told what the tricks are. Other people figure these tricks out on their own. It did not occur to me that other people, in fact, do not learn these tricks because they naturally do that behavior. They do not have to actively think about learning the trick, period. I literally thought other people also have to think as hard as I do about interactions. Evidently not.

So yeah, I'm feeling a little upset about the reaction I got from him because I'm like.... honestly, a diagnosis of ASD wouldn't change a lot about how I do things or think of things. But it would make me feel better about interacting with and participating in autism-related stuff if I am actually autistic. I realize I can use the resources and supports meant for ASD regardless, and for formal supports anything I can access due to my ADHD diagnosis likely covers anything I'd need for ASD. But having a diagnosis opens up more community. Right now I'm like yeah I'm ADHD but I totally relate to this ASD content. But I'm not going to interact much because I feel like I don't have the right to join in since idk if I do have ASD.

idk I have a lot of feelings. I had a bad email about the trans insurance coverage thing yesterday and I'm not in a great headspace, but finding out me and my spouse both scored very high on the autism screening stuff was honestly a high point because we ended up sharing a lot of how we view and interact with the world that was very eye-opening about why we interact the way we do, how we relate to others (and how other people think we're weird for how we relate to others), and just...everything. And having someone be skeptical after I've spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that I DON'T have ASD only to conclude that at the very least, I should probably be evaluated because I can't reasonably rule it out. Like, most people do not wonder if they have autism. The fact that I am spending this much time looking into it and trying to find examples to disprove it only to find I overwhelmingly can't in virtually every single diagnostic category.... just..... dismissing it outright is kinda hurtful.

Like, I recognize that ADHD symptoms overlap a fair bit, but seriously. My spouse (who definitively does not have ADHD) scored almost identically to me and we vibed on almost everything when we compared answers. We see most things similarly. We have similar areas of confusion about other people and for fundamentally similar reasons. I can't imagine all of the stuff that points to ASD for me is just ADHD in disguise, not when I vibe THAT HARD with someone else. Spouse does not vibe with me on ADHD content. At all. He can appreciate it since he does live with me, after all, and observes whatever's being discussed. But he doesn't vibe with it. He vibes with autism content, though. And I vibe with both.

idk this rant ended in rambling and I'm just going to go listen to Inside on repeat for a couple hours while I try to calm down a bit. o_0

#rant over #for now #I've actually been listening to Inside for the last twenty minutes already lol #maybe I'll try to nap #idk #blergh #yay Shit is playing now and I'm like LOL cause I did wake up at 11:30 feeling like shit #woot #what a bop #I'm like hell yeah you get it #let's vibe

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mybillyhardgrove · 4 years

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Mango Kisses b.h.

A/N: in celebration of the end of my freshman year in college, here is a little summer story with billy!!

Edit: this is so extremely late it’s sad BUT with the cold months comes my yearning for warmth, so enjoy anyway x ellie

Disclaimer: i don’t own any Stranger Things material

Word count: 1557

Warnings: none :)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader (female)

Summary: it was a warm summer day and Billy decided to come over after his morning shift at the local pool to surprise his girl with a sweet treat

You were laid out on your driveway, smiling at the warmth of the pavement soaking through your towel and reaching your skin. It was a lazy Saturday morning where your house was still - no voices, no music, no people. Your family had gone to visit your aunt’s new house, but you decided to stay home and enjoy having the days to yourself. So far, you had played your music way too loud, watched every VHS tape on the shelves, and finished the book you had started reading a month ago. Now, you were outside, enjoying the warm sun and the gentle breeze. What a beautiful summer afternoon it had turned out to be. So quiet and-

You heard a vague rumble in the distance that quickly got louder as a certain blue Camaro approached your house.

“Uh oh.” If you were inside, you’d have said your peace just flew out the window.

You sat up and adjusted your sunglasses, watching as Billy exited the car wearing a completely open button down and his lifeguard trunks. He smiled when he saw you and gave a little wave.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said, taking a seat next to you on your tiny towel.

“Hi, handsome. You save any lives today?” With that, he rolled his eyes. Billy loved his job because the power he was given was tremendous, but you had listened to him complain tons about how deaf the children in this town must be for him to have to repeat himself so many times. “Come on, Bill, those glistening muscles must be good for something more than eye candy for the lonely housewives.” A wink and a nudge with your elbow squeezed a little laugh from his lips.

“You’re the worst, you know that?”

“I know, but you still love me.” He let out another gentle laugh and shook his head.

“I know, I must really be off my rocker.”

“Oh shut it, Hargrove. I am a riot. Now scooch over, you’re blocking my sun.” You laid back down and closed your eyes, feeling even more content now that you had your favorite person to join you in one of your favorite activities. You opened one eye a bit and saw Billy hadn’t moved an inch. “Come on, I’m trying to catch some rays and you’re messing it up for me.” You wiggled your foot under his butt and pushed, but he was too heavy. You sighed and sat back up, “Come on, Billy, I’m glad you’re here and I would like you to be here… just over here instead.” You patted the hot concrete beside you as an invitation for him to lay down. “You know where the towels are.”

With a huff of exaggerated frustration, Billy rose from his spot on your towel and disappeared inside with a plastic bag in his hand, returning a couple minutes later, the bag replaced with a soft pink towel covered in illustrations of roses, lavender, and vines. “This is the only one I could find, your family must have taken the others with them.”

You opened one eye and snuck a peek at the grumpy expression on your boyfriend’s face for having to use such a feminine towel. “What’s wrong with it? I think it matches you perfectly.” It was hard to maintain a serious face and your mouth quirked up at the edges when he grumbled about how you thought you were so clever. When he was set up next to you, you looked at him and got a real treat. His lean, bronzed chest was stretched across the towel and had beads of sweat already forming from the heat of the sun. His eyes were closed to avoid its blinding light and his dark lashes brushed his cheekbones. You thought you were hot before, but you hadn’t felt anything yet. It made your heart near bursting as you watched the lazy rise and fall of his chest and the pink lips he chewed on. You sighed in content and laid down again, smiling to yourself and looking forward to this quiet time with him.

Boy were you wrong. Not even five minutes later, Billy had rolled on his side to look at you and began telling you about every little kid at the pool who had bothered him during his shift (spoiler alert, there were a lot). Finally, you had to interrupt him. “I’m sorry, love, but I was hoping for some quiet time in the sun. I’ve heard all about these kids before and they aren’t even that bad.”

“Not that bad? If there weren’t parents around, I’d hop down from my chair and chase them out! Those little shits know exactly how to get under my skin.” Becoming more agitated to defend his annoyance of children, he sat up and scooted closer, once again blocking your sun.

“You knew what you were getting yourself into when you took this job, Billy. You can’t have every child act like a perfect angel all the time… you know how Max and her friends are, what’s the big deal? Let them run and if they fall, they’ll learn their lesson. Now back up, you’re blocking my sun again.”

Ignoring your last request, he continued, “I’d love to see them all fall, but I’d get fired if I didn’t enforce the rules. Besides, I don’t need a crying kid who has a skinned knee ‘cause then I’d have to bandage it.”

The only way to relax him was to agree, so that’s exactly what you did. Then, he was quiet for a few minutes more before starting up again. This time, though, instead of talking about work, he hummed quietly. This turned into mumbling the words and somehow worked up to a full rock concert with air guitars, drums, the whole works. Peace shattered again. You swore this boy wouldn’t be able to sit still if you promised him $50 to do it.

Thankfully he was playful after his “lifeguarding sucks” rant and came over, singing the words in your ear and running his fingers up and down your sides, making you squirm. You wiggled away and pushed his chest to create space between the two of you, but he only came back again. This time, he was singing louder and straddling you. “Stop, Billy, all I want is a nice tan. You’re such a pain in the butt. Take your show on the road.” This caused him to paint a dramatic look of hurt on his face and put a hand to his chest.

“You wound me with those words, Y/N. I am sorry my one-man band isn’t enough for you. I’ll leave now and you won’t have to see me again.” You snorted, sitting up and watching as he grabbed his pink towel and slowly began walking down the driveway. Your face had a huge smile and you couldn’t help laughing as he swayed his hips widely and faked a cry.

“See you later,” you dragged out and he sent you one last look and said something that caused you to perk up.

“I guess I’ll grab your surprise from the freezer and take it with me. You wouldn’t want it anyway.” You stood and rushed down the driveway to stand in front of him, a coy smile now gracing his lips.

You squinted your eyes and poked his side. “What surprise would that be?”

He kept the act going, “It’s gross anyway, I don’t know why I brought it. It’ll go to waste and I-”

“Biilllyyyy, stop this. What did you get me?” Growing impatient, you grabbed his hands and begged. “I’m sorry for banishing you from my sunbathing spot, pretty please show me what you got me?” Finally, he relinquished and pulled you inside, the shade and air conditioning a sweet relief. Not as sweet, however, as the treat your wonderful and thoughtful boyfriend brought you.

Mango Italian ice.

Your absolute favorite treat in the summer, which Billy knew, of course. He spun around and dramatically showed you the pint he picked up on his way over from the pool, hoping to surprise you. He sure did.

You gasped with adoration and surprise, “Billy, Thank you! You’re the sweetest!” With a quick kiss, you bounced around the kitchen, grabbing spoons and bowls, as well as waters before the both of you made yourselves comfortable on the couch. Relaxed and drowsy from the sun, you enjoyed every bite of the sweet ice Billy bought you and hummed after each, appreciating the cold that traveled down your throat and into your stomach.

When you finished the last bite and licked the bowl clean, you set it down on the coffee table and snuggled up next to Billy, stretching your legs out next to his and enjoying a few moments of silence and the warm, tan skin of his chest. “Thank you for that, Billy, I loved it.” You propped yourself on your elbow and leaned down to give him a long kiss, enjoying how sweet he tasted. He pulled back so your lips were barely grazing and whispered, “You taste like sunshine,” and kissed you once more, this time making sure to lick your lips. Your cold tongue and sugar sweet lips were Billy’s favorite thing under the sun and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

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dreadnought-dear-captain · 4 years

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You Asked, I Told

(Note, if this post shows up twice or massively delayed or just looks weird, it’s because it was flagged for adult content [??!] because I had a picture of Willem Dafoe’s face in a gif. I am not even kidding. Do with that information what you will. I’ve removed it and I still don’t know if/when this can be publicly viewed, I’m kind of lolling. So if you see a blocked out photo that looks like porn in your post, I swear it’s just a gif from The Lighthouse!)

Hello, amazing people. This weekend, I’m putting the final touches on my last draft of Baghdad Waltz Chapter 39, which will then go to the beta for one more round of edits. I imagine I will have the chapter posted in 1-3 weeks, which is close to record speed for me, especially since it’s around 30k words. I’m going to be talking about my writing process (at unfortunate length) for one of the asks, for those who are interested.

Please forgive me. I’m feeling quite verbose and a little squirrely. I blame living alone during lockdown.

It’s also Memorial Day weekend in the States, which is when we are meant to honor those who gave their lives in military service to this country. This is often confused with Veterans Day (November 11), which is honoring anyone who has served in the military and is no longer serving. This gets further confused with Armed Forces Day (rotating date, May) which is to honor those currently serving in the military. I know, super confusing.

There’s a wide range of opinions on how Memorial Day should be commemorated, which often involves gathering with friends and family for a barbecue or some other social activity. It’s the first major holiday after a huge holiday drought throughout the late winter and spring, which often makes people look forward to it immensely. Some people feel it’s inappropriate to celebrate Memorial Day with barbecues and fond social gatherings because it’s dishonoring the memories of those who can’t be here, people don’t take time to remember those who have died, people have no idea what the day is actually for, etc. Others, even some very vocal veterans, maintain that people died so that we could be here to celebrate in freedom, so why not relish this life we have? Many offer the caveat that it’s appropriate to at least acknowledge the purpose of the day, even if it’s just in a few minutes of quiet reflection.

Anyway, I offer this as a little food for thought for this upcoming long weekend.

(And in case you missed it, I posted a BW Timeline for your reference.)

Contains spoilers through Chapter 38.

[Takes deep breath]

I’m so glad that you are enjoying the read and that you’re finding it inspiring for your own work. I think my dedication to research for BW is threefold. 1) As this story evolved, I decided that I wanted to create the most realistic depictions of military, civilian, emotional, and physical life that I reasonably could. I will fully admit to lapses in this, deliberate and unintentional, because sometimes the plot just needs to go and I can’t wait around for a year-long medical discharge process for my character. 2) I’m in an academically stringent occupation, and because research is such a prominent part of my work life, it’s bled to my hobby. (IS THIS EVEN A HOBBY ANYMORE?) And 3) I get very easily and passionately obsessed with things and delight in getting “into the weeds” with a subject. Almost every research divergence usually takes me off track for at least an hour. And you will never catch me without an MTA subway map open in at least one tab.

But that wasn’t even your question! Sorry. Are you beginning to get a sense of why BW takes me so long to write?? I cannot keep my shit on track. As for the bibliography, YES! I plan to include that in my author’s note at the end. I wish I had kept better track of all of my works consulted over the past three years, but I will definitely discuss the importance of some of the main ones. I’m so thrilled that you are interested, and I’m excited to share them!

Thank you. This is such a kind thing to say, and I’m humbled and delighted to hear it, especially because our fandom is so blessed with some AMAZING fics. And asks certainly don’t have to be questions! I appreciate them all (except the flaming bag of dog shit ones, which I haven’t had in a while, hooray).

(Re: Chapter 37) Good question! I imagine Claire would want to keep the 1:1 conversation somewhat limited, as she is treating the couple as a patient rather than them as individuals. If anything, she might have somewhat superficially checked in to see if he was okay rather than dive into anything regarding the relationship with Bucky not around. That could be seen as a betrayal of trust to Bucky and could be interpreted as favoritism, which Steve craves and which Bucky is probably terrified about.

I am always pleased when people re-read and enjoy it or get new things out of it, even if it’s sometimes a re-read is a function of my slow-ass writing. I really want a story with good re-read value.

You make an excellent point about Bucky’s relationships. His friendship with Jack also had no real closure. Sometimes this is a factor of circumstance and sometimes it’s because of his avoidance, like a self-fulfilling prophesy almost. He’s learned that people betray you, either by hurting you or dying, so he creates conditions sometimes (often unwittingly) for things to go sour and end poorly, or he will simply make himself disappear so that he’s not hurt and doesn’t have to wait to see if he will be abandoned or betrayed. He’s not a guy who is good with goodbyes.

As for Thor, I totally see how it would read that way. I think Thor started out fishing for longer-term possibilities in a romantic relationship but then realized Bucky is really not a guy who is comfortable settling (which, as we can see, is true). As for why it seems more serious, one thing is that Thor still wanted Bucky in his life as a friend, possibly one with benefits. They have a lot in common, and it’s hard for veterans - and, more specifically, special operators - to find people in their lives they can relate to with these very intense life experiences. I wanted this to be a real relationship, but maybe not necessarily one that was bound to become a RELATIONSHIP. I think Bucky was very intriguing and attractive to him, and he very well may have struggled with his own vacillation between whether to take it seriously or whether to remain friends+. This can lead to mixed messages.

And we also have to remember Bucky’s notoriously unreliable narration, where he will see what he wants to see. Our perspective comes from him. We see the details he zooms in on, miss the one he ignores, view the relationship through the lens of his own contentious desire for a real relationship, even as he consistently demonstrates the lack of capacity and his fear about getting serious. I imagine Bucky has having an extremely poor ability to distinguish friendship from romance, and why wouldn’t he, given the most recent bit of history we have learned about him with Jack? He’s had a series of friendships become sexualized, and I think this affects his capacity to be discerning. Bucky’s radar for relating, whether friendships, romance, or potentially dangerous sexual situations, is terribly mis-calibrated. How confusing for him and for the people in his life. Of course, everyone is free to interpret the dynamics of any relationship however they choose. These are just some of my thoughts.

I really appreciate observations from the re-read! Thank you!

I watched the video and you are right! This is definitely a Bucky song. Bucky’s sense of self is by turns profoundly distorted and lacking in grounding, especially now that he’s not in the military. He’s been in a low key existential crisis since he was a kid and has turned to drinking and sex and war to fill this horrible void, and although I can’t speak for what the artists here intended, I certainly sensed those elements here for sure. (Also, what an interesting choice for a music video…)

Thank you for sharing! I’ll add it to the unofficial BW playlist in the author’s note, which consists of various songs people have associated with BW and shared with me.

Good question! I started off this story picturing the actors who represent the characters in the MCU, because I figured we’d be picturing that when we read the fic anyway (though my beta told me she doesn’t see them as the actors, more like artists’ renderings of the characters, which I find interesting). So when describing their physicality, I tend to refer back to the MCU, since this is technically an MCU AU. But the longer I go with the story, the murkier the resemblance feels to me, especially when I think about Bucky, IDK why. I have also been considering doing something more with BW after I finish it (i.e., converting it into a proper not-bajillion-word novel, sunk cost and whatnot), in which case I would definitely change the characters’ appearance, names, cut MCU Easter eggs, etc. So when I try to think of who these people might be in future iterations of the story, things get even more blurred in my mind when I imagine them.

I wonder how other people see them??

So, with regards to PTSD clinical teams, there is some variation across VAs in the system. Some focus more on military-related trauma, whether it’s war, military sexual trauma, accidents, etc. as a way of concentrating their services and managing supply and demand. From talking with providers in these kinds of systems, sometimes you just NEED a military-related trauma, but you can be treated for, say, a childhood trauma if it’s more pressing. Other VAs are very open in their criteria, and you can see them for pretty much any kind of trauma that qualifies diagnostically for PTSD (or sub-threshold PTSD) without question. That’s why I love the expression “If you’ve been to one VA, you’ve been to one VA.” That said, it kind of doesn’t matter what kind of PTSD clinical team is at the VA in Manhattan, because Bucky has so much military trauma that he would very likely qualify to receive services in any PTSD clinical team. They just might focus on childhood stuff (if Bucky actually let them, which is another matter entirely).

This is a great question! Thanks for asking.

I love a snarky asshole Bucky so much, and I’ve tried to temper this version of him with enough hard-earned genuineness to offset it a little bit. It’s such a tender balance with him, because if you back him too far into a corner, he’s going to let you have it. But if you give him too much space, it’s hard to pin him down and wring something honest from him. He’s definitely learned to use humor and sarcasm to deflect from painful or uncomfortable situations, and it’s a very adaptive short-term strategy that makes him both endearing and infuriating to others.

But ugh, yeah, shit gets so rough around Chapter 28/29. I don’t know how to feel when people have really strong emotional reactions to this story, because one part of me doesn’t want to contribute to the crappy feelings people may already be struggling with — especially in the times of COVID — but I don’t want to be afraid to dive into the hurt these characters are experiencing. That’s why I recommend checking in with oneself before reading to get a sense of how much emotional bandwidth is available to manage the immense problems of two people struggling so much. I also think that for some people it can be cathartic or otherwise not-bad maybe (?), based on the feedback I’ve received. I also really try hard to balance out the painful stuff with growth, even though it can be terribly difficult to locate sometimes.

In comments to folks, and here, I often talk about adjusting the ticks on your measuring stick for progress, where instead of leaps of progress over feet/meters, we may be observing things on an inch/mm scale. This story is my most sincere effort at a “recovery is not linear” narrative, which I think is so much more reflective of real life for a lot of folks than a straight upward trajectory. Humans are such creatures of habit, and the lessons these characters have learned through their lives about themselves, trust, relationships, and how to manage emotions are very deeply ingrained — often through traumatic means. These are the lessons learned the hardest, with the greatest perceived consequences for change, and it takes real courage for us to be able to try new things even once, let alone to establish a reliable pattern of behavior. This can lead to a lot of frustration for us as readers/writer, and I come from a place of this being okay, because we are encountering a parallel process with the characters, who are frustrated with each other and themselves about the same things. I do hope the pain/progress/joy ratios are not horribly out of whack most of the time. That’s another reason I like long chapters, because if this was just blips of sometimes terrible episodes in shorter form, I think it would be very challenging to not lose hope entirely.

But I’m so glad you’re finding the read meaningful, even if it’s sometimes painful and difficult.

(YES.)

And FINALLY -- (this is all soooo long, I’m so sorry.)

Oh, thank you for this question! My spreadsheet ended up getting too difficult to manage, and I actually had a small crisis six months ago about how the fic was going to end, because it just didn’t feel right. I had to scrap it and go back to the drawing board and really ask myself - what would these characters really do? Naturally, as a factor of their psychologies and circumstances, how will they bring this story to an end? Some advice I once heard about a “satisfying” ending is that it’s the place where there’s simply nothing more to say about the characters. There’s no more story to tell. I had to abandon all of my desires and ideas for a particular ending or concerns about making people sad or happy or excited or disappointed. I know that the only ending that will be satisfying is one that makes sense for these people. Anything contrived or backward-engineer-y wouldn’t feel right to anyone. I do have a couple of specific character arc things I want to happen, so I set those down as touchstones and said, okay, what would happen next? What would Steve do with this? And what would Bucky do with this? And what would they do with the thing the other person did? I take a very psychology and prior-behavior-based approach to plotting, almost all character driven. The rest is just figuring out what is supposed to go where and how to organize it.

I’ve converted everything to a Google Doc and have a very basic outline where I write plotty-plot stuff. I also have a “garbage dump” doc where I write certain lines I want to use or certain details I want to include somewhere. When I get into a new chapter, I’ll check the dump doc as I outline and write to see if I want to pluck anything from there. I have my outline open regularly to add to it. Sometimes I write scenes out of order, dialogue first, but that’s only if I really am excited about a particular scene and cannot contain myself. Otherwise, I write completely chronologically and have no buffer. I post things as soon as I write them.

As for your specific questions, I do have a “process” for getting into my characters’ heads. It helps to know them so very well and to have a firm sense of their idiosyncrasies and patterns of behavior. As you may have noticed, they repeat their patterns all. the. time, as humans do, but I also want to have them change their behaviors a little as things go and they progress. So I may wonder what they could do a little differently, why they would WANT to behave differently, and imagine what they would need to do to change their behavior. Do they need to take breaths? Do they remember the last time some shit went down? I really try to think of the “how” and “why” of every single action - from big blowouts to eye rolls.

So once I’ve figured out what they are going to do, I try to pinpoint the associated emotions I want to highlight. This is a whole separate process, because I have to think also about their internal versus their external emotional states. Steve, for example, will often have a discrepant inside and outside, because one of the truths about his character is that he is a chronic suppressor. There is also the issue of unreliable narration and interpretation of behavior. Steve might do something in a scene, but that doesn’t mean Bucky is going to interpret it the way it was intended. I have to think about their individual filters, which often reflect their internal beliefs about themselves. Bucky is more likely to read Steve’s actions as reflections of how BUCKY feels about HIMSELF (e.g., he’s disgusted by me because I’m disgusting) rather than imagine what Steve is really thinking based on his own experiences and beliefs about Bucky. I also attempt to convey some of the more second and third layer emotions that people have in situations, rather than only highlighting the primary emotion. Sad things don’t always just make people sad. Powerful emotions, for example, might make Steve feel out of control of himself, which could generate secondary emotions for him like frustration because he’s losing control. Part of the process in the construction of the narrative is also scrubbing what I’ve written for POV, because Bucky’s word choices aren’t the same as Steve’s, and in order to try to preserve the “voice” of each character, I often have to change the words I’ve opted to use, as well as the syntax.

So, as you can see, there’s a lot of layering that is happening all the time. As for the dialogue, I have no compunction about saying the lines aloud, “acting” them to see how they sound, to get a sense of what tone I want them to say things in. Now that I think of it, I do a bit of movement-based stuff, thinking about how people sit and stand, figuring how many steps it takes to get from A-Z, what it would look like to lean against something, how it would feel on the body, etc. I try to get the most felt sense of things as I can. If I’m imagining a scene, I try to put myself in the shoes of the characters to the point where I feel the emotions, just so I can know how it reflects in my body and my mind and behavior. I have more than once gotten drunk and drunk-written drunk Bucky then gone to clean it up later, as drunk writing can generate some great content I never would have been able to come up with sober, but the form, grammar, spelling, etc. is often rubbish. I also talk a LOT to my beta about all of this stuff, and I have certain friends and acquaintances in the fandom who are my consultants for various things.

So, I’m somewhat method I guess?? Is that a thing?? I dunno. It’s not hard to do when you live and breathe a story. It’s required a deep level of interest in - quite possibly an obsession with - the characters and their lives. I adore my characters, not in a self-congratulatory way, but because they feel so real to me. So it’s a joy to plan and write -- though I do hate first drafts with a passion.

OH - I also sometimes fast-draft chapters, which I did for 39. That is, write as FAST AS YOU CAN with no regard for how shitty the writing is. I wrote 10k words in a week, which was a finished fast-draft for me, and thus I had a very good felt sense of what was going to happen in the chapter, which felt amazing. It requires intensive outlining before, and nearly every word had to be rewritten, but one of the greatest frustrations of a story for me is having blank space ahead. Re-writing is way more fun than first draft writing. I have fluffed it up twofold with higher quality content, which I did all in less than two months…!!

-------------------------

Well, this is surely my most unnecessarily yammering YAIT in history. But I hope it at least conveys my enthusiasm for these wonderful asks! It’s so lovely to hear from all of you, even if I take an eon to get back to you. Hang in there, everyone!

@grimshady @hutchhitched @b0n3l3ssm1lk

(And thank you to @bae-buckyaboveeverything for the shout out. You made my day<3)

#you asked #baghdad waltz #asks

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kirbychan234 · 4 years

Text

Time to Relax

This is my @k2secretsanta present to @lordjenjen. I hope you like this, and happy holidays!!!!!

When David practically shoved an envelope in his face, Kyle already had a weird feeling. “What’s this?”

“For Hanukah,” David replied with a cheery smile, one that still made Kyle’s heart do flips. He cursed himself; they weren’t together anymore, so he needed to get over himself. David had moved on and was happily engaged now. So why couldn’t he get over him? “Sorry it’s kinda late and all.” His continuation snapped Kyle out of his thoughts.

“Oh no, dude, it’s fine.” Kyle waved his hand nonchalant while the other opened the envelope. “You’re busy all the time, I totally get-”

He paused when he read what was in his gift. “Um…David, what the hell?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that.” David chuckled. “You of all people need to learn how to relax sometimes. A massage is just the way to do it.”

Kyle gave him an unamused stare. “Are you serious?”

“’Course I am. And the guy I set you up with is a master of his craft, Kyle.”

“Wait, what?” Mortified, Kyle felt himself blush embarrassedly. “You set me up with a guy?”

“What?” David looked far too amused. “I figured you of all people wouldn’t mind.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck you. That’s seriously not-”

“Yeah yeah.” As much as Kyle wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, he couldn’t bring himself to ruin said face either. That’d just be a damn waste, and David’s current boyfriend would probably come for revenge. Not that he could blame him. “And anyway, it’s a gift, so you can’t say no.”

Kyle sighed. It would be pretty rude to just ignore a gift like this, especially if it was actually being given with good intentions, like David implied…sort of. And if the guy was really as good as advertised, then it would be a pretty big waste not to go as well. “Alright, fine, whatever,” Kyle finally replied with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll go, I guess.”

“Don’t look too torn up about it.” At least he didn’t have to drag him there kicking and screaming, but still…he meant what he said. If anybody needed a minute to relax, it was Kyle.

It was a good thing his schedule was freed up that day. Kyle had a feeling David did that on purpose; he did know his crazy schedule pretty well, after all. Luckily it rarely ever changed.

When he walked into the salon, the receptionist smiled at him. “Hi there! How can I help you?”

“Uh, hi,” Kyle replied awkwardly and looked around. “I’m Kyle Broflovski, and I guess I have an appointment here today?”

The girl hummed and typed a few keys into her computer. “Broflovski…ah yes, here you are. A massage with Kenny, right?”

He had no idea, so Kyle shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”

She gave him a bit of a look before smiling again. “I’ll let him know you’ve arrived. Please feel free to relax until then, Mr. Broflovski.” She gestured to the waiting area before moving through a nearby doorway blocked only by a lavender curtain.

Hopefully this guy wouldn’t be long, but as Kyle said down to make himself somewhat comfortable, he had to admit that the place had a nice atmosphere. The walls were a nice calming color, and the air freshener didn’t even make his allergies want to murder him; usually these kinds of places sent his sinuses into overdrive. Even the waiting chairs were comfortable, and Kyle almost found himself nodding off. Fuck, when was the last time he slept? He couldn’t even remember, but it had certainly been at least two days. He probably looked like shit.

It was only a few minutes later when someone else finally showed up. “Hi there! Mr. Broflovski, right?” Kyle snapped to attention, and he realized that the voice was just as sunny as the owner’s hair.

He was more of a night owl himself whenever he did catch some sleep, for obvious reasons. But this man seemed to be the pure embodiment of daytime beauty. Golden hair, sky-blue eyes, a charming smile, a few freckles, a tooth gap… Kyle would be lying if he said he wasn’t gorgeous. “U-um…yeah,” he replied after he caught his breath. “But uh, call me Kyle, please.” Mr. Broflovski was what people called his dad, and he less he was like him, the better.

“Kyle then,” the masseur replied cheerily. “You can call me Kenny. David’s told me a lot about you!”

Oh he has, has he? Kyle wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but he left it be for now. “You two, ah, know each other?”

“Sure, he comes here all the time.” Kenny grinned and handed Kyle a soft white robe that he hadn’t noticed he was holding until now. “There’s a changing room just past the curtain, on your right, and there’s some cubby holes for your clothes. You can put them in whichever one you want. Right across from there is my room. Come in when you’re ready once you’ve changed!”

Blearily, Kyle stared at the robe, before looking back up at Kenny like he’d grown a second head. “Uh…excuse me?”

“Hm? Something wrong?”

“I’m, er…supposed to take my clothes off?”

There was a moment of silence before Kenny let out a few soft laughs, and Kyle felt his face burn with embarrassment. “Ah, I take it you’ve never had a massage before,” he snickered before going back to try to maintain some sort of professionalism. “For the full experience, yes. No worries though, you keep your underwear on if you want, and the parts of your body that aren’t being massaged are covered by a sheet. It’s not as bad as you’re thinking, I promise.”

It didn’t sound that way, but Kyle had committed to this now. There was no going back. “…Okay?” Still, this was just weird to him. David really did this all the time? Why did he think getting almost naked around a guy he didn’t even know would be something he’d like? “I’ll…do that. I guess.”

Kenny seemed a little troubled by his answer. “If you really don’t want to, Kyle, then you don’t have to,” he assured him. “There’s no point in doing this if you aren’t comfortable. It’s just, the whole thing was already paid for, and I’d hate to see it go to waste either. But this is on your terms, so whatever you like.”

“No, no.” He knew he was being stupid about it. It wasn’t that big of a deal; it was just a fucking massage. “I’ll do it. Sorry for being weird about it.” Kyle didn’t wait for Kenny’s answer before ushering himself to the appointed dressing room.

Kenny’s smile nearly blinded him as Kyle quietly closed the door. How could someone be some damn cheerful? Or maybe Kyle was just used to dealing (and being) with assholes that having someone so genuinely kind talk to him was throwing him off.

The room was relatively small, but it was only supposed to hold two people so Kyle supposed it was fine. He was surprised to find out that the calming oils in the air weren’t triggering his allergies either. He had no idea that could even exist; his allergies were the worst. All and all, it was a very cozy room, and Kyle found himself relaxing slightly.

He watched Kenny gesture to the cushioned cot in the middle of the room, covered by a silk sheet. “Alright, so we can start with you on your back or your stomach, your choice.” Kenny slid the sheet off. “And you can set the robe on that chair over there.”

Kyle quietly did as he was told, feeling a little awkward. Even still in his boxers, he wanted to cover himself up. He was so fucking pale and had so many freckles all over his skin, and no matter how much he tried to shave his body, his hair grew back in like a week. Truly he got all of the worst genes from his parents and he hated it.

When he glanced at Kenny, he wasn’t even looking his way, instead preparing something on his counter. Kyle was thankful. Maybe he was just being polite, but it was certainly appreciated.

He decided to lie on his stomach first, and quickly covered himself back up with the sheet once he was comfortable. His back was what needed the most attention anyway. “All set?” He heard Kenny say.

After lying his chin in his hands, Kyle finally responded a soft “Mhm.”

He heard Kenny turn around and Kyle shivered involuntarily when the sheet was pulled to expose his bare, speckled back. “Cold? Need me to adjust the temperature?”

Kyle thought about it for a few seconds. “…Sure.”

Kenny hummed in response and did so. Soon enough, Kyle felt an unfamiliar hand ghost across his skin. He shivered again, this time not from the cold. Kenny’s hands were very soft, but he supposed they had to be for this job.

Those fingers slowly began to work. More than a few times Kyle winced in pain. Holy shit, he had no idea how fucking terrible his back was until this very moment. “Ow – hey-!”

“Sorry, sorry.” The hands retracted for a brief moment before resuming, this time much more gentle. “You’re super tense, dude,” Kenny remarked. “I can tell this is your first time getting a massage.”

Kyle didn’t say anything in response, relaxing even more now that it didn’t hurt so damn much. But even despite the pain from before, it was starting to feel really good now. “What’s got you so tense anyway?”

That seemed a little personal, but Kyle decided it was more like explaining himself. “My life,” he replied without thinking. Then he amended, “My job.”

“Oh?” If Kenny noticed his slip-up, he didn’t say anything about it. “What’s your job?”

Ugh. He was prying. Kyle hated talking about himself. Stan called him a recluse for a reason, even if he hated that too. He had just…decided not to get too close to people anymore. “I’m a detective,” he replied simply.

“No kidding?” Kenny’s skilled hands moved to Kyle’s shoulders. “A police detective? That’s pretty sweet. What’s the weirdest case you’ve worked on?”

One easily came to mind, but like hell he would talk about that to a complete stranger. “Aw c’mon,” Kenny teased. “You can’t say that kinda thing and then get so quiet.”

Irritated, Kyle turned his head and glared at Kenny, one of his famous glares that shook even the toughest criminals. For someone so short, Kyle was certainly intimidating. “That’s confidential,” he replied after a minute.

And yet…Kenny didn’t even bat an eye. This guy he just met wasn’t intimidated by him at all, when people twice his height had confessed their crimes to him after that same look. Kyle decided it was because Kenny was seeing him practically naked and super vulnerable, and suddenly he didn’t feel so relaxed.

No, stop. Now wasn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” Kenny said again with an apologetic smile. “I was just wondering if you were the same Detective Broflovski that worked with Mysterion a few months back. Your name sounded familiar, and it was all over the news back then, so…”

Oh.

Right. He probably should have guessed. This wasn’t the first time someone had recognized him off duty, thanks to that very case. “…Yeah that’s me,” Kyle replied with a sigh.

“That’s pretty awesome.” Kenny sounded cheerful again, and Kyle relaxed again. “What was it like? Working with the hero of South Park?”

“Technically he’s not a hero, he’s a vigilante.” Kyle immediately went into detective mode, something Stan chastised him a lot for as well. He really had to work on that. “…But to answer your question, it was annoying. He’s kind of an asshole.”

Kenny snorted with laughter. “Yeah I could see it. My friend’s talked to him too, and he said the same thing. He does the right thing and all but not exactly a great person to talk to.”

“Or work with.”

The longer they talked, the more Kyle began to realize that Kenny was as innocent as they came. He seemed so open and had a laugh that could melt even the iciest hearts.

He would know, because it was melting his.

Kenny’s voice was soft and soothing and Kyle had to fight himself multiple times to stop himself from falling asleep.

“Nice to see you’ve loosened up,” Kenny teased, and Kyle rolled his eyes. Normally he’d be pissed at dirty jokes directed at him, but from Kenny, it didn’t feel like maliciousness. Just playfulness.

And he had a point. Talking had helped him relax a little… Kyle wondered if Kenny had done that on purpose. He wouldn’t be surprised. And he was amazed at how much he enjoyed talking to him, despite the rocky topic at the start.

Once the hour and a half was up, Kyle didn’t want to leave. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in years. David hadn’t been kidding when he said Kenny was a master of his craft.

“It was really nice to meet you,” Kenny told him with one of his award-winning smiles.

“Y-yeah…” Kyle swallowed nervously. “Um…I feel fantastic. Better than I have in way too long.”

“Glad to hear it!”

Kyle shuffled on his feet. “Could I, ah…schedule another one?”

For a moment, Kenny looked a little shocked. But soon enough he beamed. “Yeah! Of course!” He took a seat at the front desk and typed a few things into the computer. “When would you like?”

“I’m, er, I’ve got some time next Thursday.”

“Perfect!” Kenny typed a few more things. “Same time next Thursday?”

Kyle nodded. Hopefully they’d get to talk a little more then. It was nice to talk to someone that made him feel relaxed in more than a few ways. Kenny was one of those guys that you just meet, but you feel like you’ve known him for years.

As Kyle left, Kenny pulled out his phone. He grinned at the text message.

[So? How did it go?]

Kenny quickly sent another text back to David. [Went awesome, just like you said. I think we’re gonna get along pretty well, dude.]

#Kirby writes #south park #k2secretsanta #lordjenjen #happy holidays!!!!!

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buildingcastlesintheair-blog1 · 4 years

Text

Sincerely Me

So, I needed an outlet. And, whatever kind of stick Tumblr gets, it’s free. And I’m a broke student, that’s my aesthetic this decade. I’m not writing this for anyone but my own buzzing, confused, boiling over thoughts. Cause if I don’t lay it all out here, then it’ll come out in some other form and that generally leads to me ugly cry at 3 am after isolating myself even more than I already have.

I’m not expecting anyone to read this. I don’t know if I do. There’s probably a way I could private this. But maybe I do want someone to read this. Maybe I’m desperate for some form of attention. Wow, I am really painting myself as a solid person right now. Right now, the general feeling inhabiting me is I want people there and yet, I want isolation. It’s like, I want to know they’re there if I need them but I want my solitude as well. I think I’ve been that way since I was a kid. I couldn’t sleep if I knew everyone else in the house was asleep before me. I’m not sure where that irrational fear came from but it was just one on a list.

That’s not to say I didn’t have a happy childhood. I’m getting nostalgic these for it. Or for the lack of thinking and lack of responsibility as well. It’s all on me now. Or it feels that way. I don’t have someone reliable I can fall back on if it all blows up in my face. I’ve imagined myself in an Alice in Wonderland scenario, when she initially falls down the rabbit hole and is just falling and falling. Except she slows down. I feel like I’m speeding up. I see all these ledges and every person who had some key aspect in my life, some adult I was suppose to rely on, family members, friends, they all stand there. And each time my trust with them is shattered, they vanish. I can’t hold onto any ledge for long, the pull to fall is too great. Sometimes they unpick my fingers to send me falling again. Sometimes there just isn’t room on the ledge for me.

I feel like everyone has that person in their life. That solid, dependable person you know has your back and genuinely cares about you and cares about your well being. Unconditional love. I don’t have that anymore I fear. Got no parents, so not getting it that way. Only knew my moms family and they all have their own issues and they’re all basically strangers. My mom made sure to distance herself and me and my sister from them. A lot of people in that family are toxic and I honestly am not sure I want them in my life. Which in turn causes me to feel like crap because they’re family. I’m suppose to love them. But I’m as much a stranger to them as they are to me. I have grandparents. They love me. They love the version I present to them. Well, my grandad knows me a bit better then my grandma. At least he calls me Lance. And we have a similar sense of humor. But I worry he’s losing his memory. And to be honest, he’s a bit intimidating. It was me, him and Mom for a while. I appreciate that time we had together. I do love him. And am terrified of losing him too.

Grandma, I was kind of always her main grandchild. Purely because my sister grew up, she wasn’t allowed see some of her grandkids or they lived too far away. And you know, I loved it as a kid. I loved being her main grandkid. I’m not saying she loved me more, no way, we just saw each other more. She has a big heart and I know she loves all her grandkids and children with all of it. I was just the one she had the most exposure to. And as a kid, it worked. Sure, she was always trying to convert me to her religion but Mom blocked that off. It’s more awkward now when I’m twenty and she’s still going on about it and, now that I’ve been educated and have more experience, don’t always agree with her. I admire her faith. I’m curious about it. Because I have no experience with it myself. But I don’t want to either. Growing up without any kind of faith or religion or beliefs, in some ways, I missed out. But I also think it left me open to the ideas of others and wanting to understand everyone.

My grandma loves me, I know. But she knows less and less about me. Who I am. Even my name. I’m terrified of losing her if she saw me for me, because it could conflict with her faith. And if she had to turn her back, I don’t know what I’d do.

I have a sister. But like just about every other family member, we’re distant. I mean, she’s six years older, so growing up there was that. And when she moved out, it was harder to maintain the relationship. And I know now, just how much she was dealing with herself. I knew nothing of it because I was the youngest and no thought me able to handle that sort of thing. I mean, I think at one point in my life I wouldn’t have been able to. But seeing your mother slowly die before you really matures you.

Was that too dark? I’ve been told I can be rather dark. I think I’ve just grown more blunt. I know how awful this world is. How painful and bloody and disgusting and twisted it can be. No point in throwing handful glitter at it and smiling to make other’s feel comfortable. But I don’t want to ruin a positive outlook either. I admire those who can have one on life. I think I use to have one. Hope. Eagerness to live life. I had faith in my abilities and that I could live the life I wanted. Now, I don’t even know what I want anymore. I remember being a little kid and loving to tell stories. First in pictures, then in words when I could write. And my mom encouraged that. She was the only one who had faith I could make it as an author. Encouraged me. My aunts told me to get realistic and be an nurse or teacher. The one time I saw them in about five years, that’s what they had to say to me. Charming. It’s funny as a kid, anyone can be anything. And then you go to college and it’s all about making money. And I’m not discounting money, money is amazing, get to buy all my hoodies and books and Reeses Candy Cane Swirl kisses with money. It pays for my Netflix. Pay for the roof over my head and food in my-okay it pays for my take out. When I can afford it. If not, it’s Dealz microwave popcorn for dinner. But when did wanting the best future for someone add up to crushing their dreams and being a soul crushing asshole?

To be honest, I haven’t written anything proper since my mom died. I think that dream died with her. I kinda feel like I’m floating through college. I totally have a plan, that’s what I tell people. But nothing is said with certainty. Nothing with passion or excitement. Nothing I want to dedicate myself to. I go to college because it will stop the people who like to nose into my life from fretting and yeah, it has some positive aspects to it. I do enjoy learning. I’ve just lost my drive.

And I’m so angry at people all the time. Old foster parents, ex friends, college mates, current friends, adults. Even though I am an adult, I don’t think I’ll ever stop seeing those people as the Adults. And I don’t know when they’ll stop seeing me as a teenager. Certainly still feel like one.

Anyway, the whole reason I’m writing this post is because I got angry at an interaction between my best friend and her mom. Not angry at them. Angry at the fact I don’t have that. I don’t have a mom to offer to make me hot chocolate or hear about my day or just want to hug me for the sake of hugging me. It honestly feels like I have no one to make proud anymore. I don’t care what the others think because I don’t respect them as much as I did her. And I knew she wanted me to do well because she loved me. They pay attention because it’s the morally right thing to do. “The poor orphan, oh we’ll look so bad if we ignore them.”And then they smile to themselves and think, “Aren’t we such good people?”

And yeah, they are. Because they’ve fed me, given me somewhere to sleep (A blow up mattress is going to be interesting to sleep on for three months but we’ll make it work), somewhere safe and warm, a ride when I need it, helped me figure out college stuff and official things. And I appreciate that and them from the bottom of my heart. So that’s why I don’t understand why I get so angry. At everyone. Sure, some people deserve it, they’re assholes. Some don’t. And most have left because I don’t know how to handle my grief and other issues. After mom passed, it felt like just about everyone abandoned me. I wasn’t a great friend, I was angry at the world and depressed to a dangerous point. I was in crisis. And didn’t know how to reach out. My foster home got pulled out from under my feet just when I thought things were getting better. My school friends, well, they dropped communication. And some of them, I don’t blame for it. Some I do blame. But playing the Blame Game is stupid. So I wish them the best in their future endeavors and am trying to move on. I just feel like...when my life imploded, everyone was there for the first month. And then i was expected to smile, play happy families and school student and move on from losing the most important person in my life. My mom was my world. And I had to watch for five years as she wasted away.

You know, some days I just wanna scream “FUCK THOSE PEOPLE. THEY SUCK AND I’M BETTER OFF WITHOUT THEM” Cause some people are just douchebags, who hurt me for what feels like no reason. Some people, I understand couldn’t handle the place I was in. And to this day, I struggle with my self worth because of those sorts of interactions. And yet, I still put up with those kinds of people because I am terrified of being alone. Yet, I like being alone. I just like knowing people are there. And you know, there are some people in my life who frustrate me to no end but I still love them. And I am happy they’re in my life.

My best friend. I would take a bullet for her. Several bullets in fact. She keeps me grounded, she puts up with all my bullshit and she makes me smile and you know what? I think she genuinely cares. We can fight and I’m not afraid that’s it, I’ll never see her again. I don’t see our friendship as a ticking time bomb. I know she’s there for the long haul. And I hope she knows that about me too.

My surrogate older sibling friend. They’re actually older than my sister. But I think they knows me better at this point. To be fair, I need to play my part in reconnecting with my sister. This is the friend who I look up to. I admire their strength and compassion. And they’re so smart and capable! I love them.

Those are perhaps the two most solid people in my life. The two I don’t gotta pretend around and I can be as broken as I am. So that’s good at least.

I titled this piece superpower, originally. I had an idea in mind but I went off on an tangent as always. Perhaps I’ll go into that another time.

Hope this helped,

Sincerely,

Me.

#life

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jmariko-blog1 · 4 years

Text

you live the life you settle with

1. emotional obstacle

During my time in high school, I have only dealt with two major emotional obstacles. The first occurred during my freshman year, when I got into a huge fight with my former best friend, [A], and she no longer wanted to be friends with me. Although I knew the transition from middle school to high school would be difficult, I never expected to lose my best friend in the process. We had been inseparable throughout middle school and I had always considered her my closest friend. However, upon entering high school, I joined cross country and became friends with [L] who she did not like. After growing closer to [L], [A] started cutting me off and stopped talking to me. Although I was hurt, I refused to apologize to her when I felt I had done nothing wrong. I missed talking to her, but I thought our friendship was stronger and we could move past this. However, she never came around. She began talking badly about me to my friends and blocked me on all social media. I was extremely hurt and decided to talk to her. I sent her a long message explaining my side of the story and admitting the things I did wrong. However, she ignored the text, which hurt a lot. I could not understand how we went from being best friends to this. Although we are still on bad terms, looking back, I am thankful she is no longer in my life. She was a very negative person and I have grown a lot from that experience. It helped me find my group of friends who I love and I know care deeply about me.

Secondly, a couple years later, I experienced my second emotional obstacle. My grandfather had passed away. He was my only grandparent who was alive during my lifetime, and the most positive, easy-going person I have ever known. He was ninety-five years old and got sick the summer before my junior year. A couple days after feeling unwell, he was sent to the hospital and later passed away. It was the first death of a family member I experienced, and I had found out from looking at my mom’s phone. I was getting ready to go to my SAT class and I was pulling up the directions on my mom’s phone. I saw a notification from one of her close friends saying, “I’m so sorry. How are you going to tell Jenna?” and I instantly knew. I broke down and started to think of all of the fond memories I had of him and everything he would not be able to experience with me. However, with time I realized how lucky he was to have lived such a long, happy life. He had experienced so much during his time on Earth and he could finally reunite with his wife. In addition, I appreciate all he had done for my family and I. Although he hated traveling, he would always try to come down from San Jose to stay with us for a couple weeks over the summer. We would go on walks, watch Judge Judy and eat lots of Japanese food. He had a big impact on who I am today. From the things we like to our happy-go-lucky personality, we got along very well.

2. past actions

Throughout my two years in cross country, I grew very close to four of my teammates: [L], [O], [E] and [M]. They quickly became my best friends and we did everything together. From waking up at four in the morning for races to dying on eight mile runs, we found ways to make the most miserable experiences fun. However, during our sophomore year, [M] started dating a boy who [L] was close to. After seeing the two together, [L] started getting jealous and ended up kissing [M]’s boyfriend. [M] felt betrayed by [L] and no longer wanted to associate with her at all. She avoided her at all costs and purposely left her out of the rest of the group. [O], [E] and I did not know what to do. We felt bad for [M] and knew what [L] did was wrong, but none of us wanted to abandon [L] when everyone else started turning on her. I did not know how to be there both of them, especially when we were all together during practices and meets. I continued to hang out with both of them separately, letting [M] rant when she needed to and offering [L] advice and support. Although it was rough and tense for a couple weeks, [M] eventually moved on and realized that their friendship was more important than a boy. Our group dynamic slowly began to return to the way it was and [M] ended up being thankful for [L] for helping her realize who he truly was.

It was extremely difficult for me to figure out how to treat this situation at first because I wanted to be able to be there for both of them but did not know how. However, a couple years later, I now know I treated the situation appropriately and the importance of nurturing both friendships during a dispute.

3. current inactions

Being a senior in high school, I feel pressed for time. In a matter of months, my childhood friends and I will be going our separate ways. From going to different colleges and moving to different states to exploring new interests and meeting new people, I do not know where we all will be in the upcoming year. I want to make the most of the time we have left, but with school, work and my horrible procrastination habits, I feel like I never have time. I want to go on spontaneous adventures with my friends and meet new people, but with homework and no car, it is hard to get out of the house. In addition, I feel dependent and trapped without a car. I do not want to have to rely on my parents and friends to drive me everywhere, which often leads to me spending my weekends at home on youtube and tiktok. However, I plan to be more spontaneous and social during second semester. Instead of focusing all of my energy on school, like I have been for the past three years, I understand that I need to balance my school and social life. One bad grade is not going to kill me and it is okay to have fun, even if it is on a weekday.

4. legacy (best friend)

My best friend is [E]. We met in fifth grade in Mrs. [K]’s class and instantly became friends. From middle school orchestra to high school cross country and track, we have spent countless hours together, and surprisingly, are not sick of each other yet.

If I were to pass away tomorrow, [E] would probably remember me for my sense of humor, work ethic and our relationship. We had the ability to make light of any situation, and we could always make each other laugh - which wasn’t always ideal. From getting kicked out of eighth grade english class for laughing too much and too loud to doing the same in ninth grade history, we probably should have paid a little more attention to the class’ lesson. In addition, [E] would probably commend me on my work ethic. From persevering through difficult, steep cross country races to countless hours of studying and working on homework, I have always been very motivated to do well. Lastly, she would probably describe my legacy through our relationship. We have grown so close in the past seven years and our friendship is irreplaceable. We are so comfortable around each other and we are the only people we can completely open up to.

5. legacy (family)

To be honest, I am not sure what my parents or brother would say about me if I were to pass away tomorrow. Growing up in an Asian household, praise was very rare. Excelling in academics and extracurriculars were expected and hardly acknowledged. However, I think my mom would commend me for my strong, independent nature, which she often complimented me on. Being a girl in our current society, she thought it was very important for me to be able to take care of myself and instilled these values in me growing up. In addition, my mom would probably mention my Gold Award as part of my legacy. She had always wanted me to complete it, and being the only girl in my troop to do so, she was extremely proud.

Similarly, my dad would commend me on my work ethic and good grades. Although he was usually pushing me to enroll in harder classes and explore more activities at our school, he was proud of me for always excelling in school. He said he had never had to worry about me or my grades, which was a stressful burden with my brother.

6. epitaph + reflection

“in” - Jack Lemmon

I like Lemmon’s epitaph because it is short, simple and comedical. After passing away, your family is mourning for you and remembering everything you accomplished, and I think it was kind of him to make his friends and family laugh during this difficult time. In addition, I think it is important and unique to be remembered solely by one’s words and sense of humor instead of the time when you were alive.

“Damn, it’s dark down here.” - Thatcher

Similarly, I like Thatcher’s epitaph because he chose a way to spread happiness and smiles even after his death. Instead of having a serious, standard epitaph, he chose to make light of the situation. He made a little, light joke to bring his loved ones some happiness while they mourned his death.

7. epitaph creation

“[J M]. [Month Day, Year]. Mother, Wife, Occupational Therapist. ‘She saw the world and worked to changed it too.’”Ever since I was young, I have always wanted the stereotypical happily ever after story I grew up watching. I want to find happiness through experiences, people, food and music. I want to get married to someone I love and can spend my life with. I want to have a family with a couple of kids and a dog. I enjoy taking care of children and cannot wait to have some of my own. I want a fulfilling job as a school-based occupational therapist, where I can help kids with special needs and learning disabilities. I want to travel the world and make a difference in it. Instead of wasting my potential like many of the characters we learned about, I want to help those around me, along with making sure I maintain my happiness.

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supersleepygoat · 6 years

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Better for Everyone: Part 11

Parings: Platonic Sam x Reader, Platonic John x Reader, Dean x Reader, Cat

Warnings: Angst. Language.

Word Count: 3,020

Summary: The Reader spent most of her life with the Winchesters. She loves them like family but doesn’t feel like the feeling is mutual. When she is essentially kicked out of the Winchester clan she is left physically and emotionally vulnerable to dangerous situations.

Series Masterlist

“Y/N,” a soft hand touches your shoulder and pulls you from your fitful sleep. You wipe away the tears that had fallen in your unconscious state. John is looking down at you with an unfamiliar concern. “I’ve got breakfast.”

There’s so much more he wanted to say. When he walked into the room and heard your quiet pleas for forgiveness, he felt the dull pang of regret. He rushed over to pull your shaking body from the nightmare you were trapped within. He hated that he forced his son break your heart. But, he knew your school girl crush and this momentary heartache would pass.

John also knew his son. Dean was chasing a new tail in every town they arrived in and you weren’t in the head space to deal with that. If Dean broke your heart, John knew he would lose you forever. You couldn’t handle another loss. It’s better to nip this in the bud before things get too complicated, before you fall in too deep. This is better for everyone. He would protect you this time.

When your bleary eyes focus on John you don’t even bother trying to return his small smile. You simply curl your body against the extra pillows, willing yourself back to sleep. You prefer your nightmares over this reality.

“Breakfast, kid,” John repeats as he once again interrupts your wallowing.

You glance over your shoulder and see John pulling out a container of pancakes. Your favourite. “Not hungry,” you say into your pillow as you hope the bed would swallow you whole.

John turns to see your dinner from the night before lying untouched in the trash. He lets out a slow breath through his nose. “Breakfast, Y/N. Get up.”

As if on instinct, your body complies with John’s insistence and you meet him over by the table. He watches you struggle to maintain interest in your food.

“Dean said-” when your shoulders visibly tense at the name, John quickly corrects himself, “I heard you don’t hunt anymore.”

“Yes, sir,” you say unable to meet his gaze. John raised you to be a warrior, a hunter. Hunters don’t quit. So, you know he is going to be disappointed in you.

“Is it just the hand-to-hand or do you not want to do research either?” John asks so casually that it kind of surprised you. He wasn’t mad at you?

“I don’t mind doing research… if I’m going to be here I might as well do something useful. But I – I can’t – I don’t think I could-”

“No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. Why don’t you help Sam with the research today and then you can let me know if it’s still too much for you.”

There is an unfamiliar compassion that laces John’s words. It is so uncharacteristic, it makes you feel uneasy. There is a hint of guilt in his eyes but John Winchester is an unapologetic man. Whatever is bothering him, he will keep it to himself. So, you don’t push the issue.

John watches you intently, making sure you finish your breakfast. Normally, you would say he is treating you like a child but even when you were a kid he never cared this much about you.

After breakfast, you moved to go back to bed but John grasped your upper arm “Nuh uh, no more sleeping. Your helping Sam remember?”

“I can do research from here. I don’t need to be -”

“It’ll be easier if were all together,” John cut you off. The sooner everyone learns to be comfortable together, the better.

You and Cat trail behind John. The short walk across the parking lot to Dean and Sam’s room feels as though you’re walking to the gallows. Nothing good can come out of being locked in a room full of grumpy Winchesters.

“Dad, can I take a look at your journal again? I feel like were missing -” Sam stops abruptly when he sees you enter the room behind his father. Your tight clutch on your laptop and your downcast eyes informs Sam that you are not here on your own accord.

Dean comes storming out of the washroom but stops in his tracks when he sees that him and Sam are no longer alone. At Dean’s appearance, Cat leaves your side and runs over to rub herself against Deans ankles. She’s purring at her new friend but he makes no move to reciprocate the affection. His eyes are trained on you.

Cat’s trusting acceptance of Dean causes tears to sting your eyes. You turn to leave the room hoping to slip out before any of the men sees how pathetic you actually are. Unfortunately, John sensed your retreat. He places a hand on your shoulder and closes the motel door – trapping you inside.

The silence is deafening. You take a seat in the furthest corner of the room and open your laptop to distract yourself. The men resume hunter-mode and delve back into research. However, the words in Dean’s book morph into an indecipherable language. The only thing his mind can processes is how you are curling into yourself. You are attempting to rid your cheek of a fallen tear without anyone noticing. But he noticed.

Dean moves to get off the bed and rush over to your side. “Dean,” John’s stern voice stops his movements. John’s jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

Dean glares at his father. But, always the obedient son, he settles back down onto the bed. You had not noticed the exchange because you were too lost in your own thoughts.

You don’t want kids; not right now anyway. You and Jonas talked about it but he’s gone now. That future you were building for yourself got swept away in one night. The Winchesters took that future from you. But when Dean came to find you, he wormed his way back into your heart. He gave you hope that things would be different this time around.

You don’t want kids, you keep telling yourself. You’re too messed up right now to care for another human being. So, it’s not the fact that Dean wanted to avoid getting you pregnant right now. It’s the fact he threw the pills at you like you were a problem to be fixed. Like you were a random fuck that he had to take care of before he moved on. You were his mistake. Nothing more. Nothing less.

You risk a glance upward at the green-eyed hunter. The lump in your throat erupts into a silent sob as you see Cat has made a bed for herself on Dean’s broad chest. He absentmindedly strokes her back as she nuzzles into his warmth.

The domestic scene displayed before you, makes you ache. You remember how Cat used to sleep on top of Jonas on lazy Sunday mornings. You forgot how much you craved that kind of domesticity. It was a simple sight that to anyone else would seem insignificant. But seeing Dean in that position, with your cherished feline, made you long for the comfort you once knew.

However, the scariest part is that you are starting to realize that you want that life with Dean. Images of Dean holding you on lazy Sunday mornings, instead of Jonas, clouded your mind. You hate every minute.

It would be easier if you wanted Jonas, and only Jonas. He was gone and you could learn to accept that you have to move on from that pipe dream. But wanting Dean is harder to accept. Now, you must live everyday knowing what you want is within your reach but it isn’t reaching back.

When a tear inadvertently splashes onto your keyboard, you are jerked back to reality. Now that John is nose deep in a lore book, your exit is clear. You make a break the door, ignoring John bellowing your name as you rush out into the fresh air.

The summer air is thick around you. But, it’s better than drowning in the unmistakable Winchester scent that plagues the motel room. A firm hand rests on you shoulder and you roll your eyes. “Can’t I have just one minute, John!” you plead. But as you turn around, you recoil away from the secure hand when you realize it belongs to Dean and not John.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

The term of endearment makes you shudder. “Fine,” the stability in your voice surprises you.

“Dean!” John’s voice booms from the motel doorway.

Dean ignores his father and looks back at you. He raises his hand from your shoulder up to cup your cheek. “Y/N, I -”

John crossed the short distance between you and pulls Dean away. They have a silent confrontation. Their daggered eyes were a special language you did not understand.

Dean was ready to disobey his father – give into the aching in his chest. However, when Dean turns to face you, his eyes fall onto the long scars that radiate off of your exposed arms. Much like the marks he left on Baby, your marks are there to remind him of his failure. He failed you once but he can protect you now. His father was right, he cannot push you off that edge again.

Dean turns his back to you and walks toward the abandoned motel room.

“Dean?” you call after him. The sound of your voice makes his shoulders tense but he maintains his resolve and doesn’t look back.

John lets you return your room. You spend the rest of the day switching between research and being lost in your thoughts. As the sun started to set, your restlessness hit a breaking point.

The boys had left a couple hours ago to go back to the morgue and re-interview witnesses. This case was not as cut and dry as they assumed and it was making everyone irritable.

You threw on the cleanest thing in your duffle bag, which was a light-yellow sundress. You never used to like dresses growing up but Jonas had insisted on you wearing them. He said he liked the way dresses made you look like you were floating. You said, he just liked the easy access dresses allow for. You now found them comfortable and familiar. Giving up hunting has allowed you to explore your more feminine side. You like feeling pretty.

You left a note for John telling him you’d be at the bar that was only a couple blocks away. You didn’t bother calling him because you knew he would not let you go alone.

You were only two drinks in when the barroom door swings open. Three hulking Winchesters come barreling through. You guess they got your note.

“What the fuck, Y/N!” John berates as he approaches you with his sons in tow.

“Dad,” Sam interjects “she’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”

John checks you over for signs of harm. When you simply raise your glass at him and finish your drink, he decides to relent. “I guess…we could all use a break,” John says as he pulls a chair out to beside you. This case was taking a lot out of them. These supposed Djinn they were hunting, did not follow the typical pattern. They each needed to clear their head before they took another crack at the research.

Each Winchester was still adorned in their FBI suits – a sight that is seemingly irresistible to every female patron. You scoff to yourself. If these women had any sense they would stay as far away from these sharply dressed men as possible. It’s too late for you but they can still save themselves.

Many drinks were had. As a result, your reservations were lowered just enough to allow a light and easy conversation to flow between you. Without realizing it, you found yourself genuinely laughing and smiling. The usually stoic men’s behaviour became sloppy and more carefree. Even John doubled over laughing when you beat Sam at a game of darts and your reward was getting to braid his hair.

Dean and you still avoided direct contact. But having Sam and John there was a nice buffer that lifted a small weight off your chest. At least now you can stand to be in the same room as him. That’s progress.

The night wore on but you did not want it to end. It has been forever since you felt this free, this comfortable. You even felt yourself warming up to Dean. You were no longer too ashamed to look him in the eye.

As you waited for the next round, you leaned against the bar watching the rare spectacle of smiling Winchesters. Dean did one of his full body laughs and you instinctively giggled along with him from afar. You didn’t even know what was so funny but when Dean Winchester smiles it is a pure contagion.

“Which one’s yours?” the low voice from the man at the end of the bar asks. When you look at him with perplexity, he rephrases his question. “Which one has you smiling like a smitten school girl?” he asks with a warm smile.

You’re hesitant to answer. Your smile falters but you try to reply as casually as possible “None of the above,” you say with a painful shrug.

The stranger’s posture straightens as if he was ignited with a sense hope. His bright blue eyes trail down to your dress, “Is that so…”

You let out a small laugh and his obvious behaviour, “I wouldn’t get your hopes up though, they’re my family. My very protective and heavily armed family.” You offer him a wink to help him relax at your implicit threat. You gather your four beers and rejoin the Winchesters.

Your family. The words had just slipped out. They were your family.

You hand Sam his beer and he ruffles your hair in thanks. You attempt to playfully kick him in the shin for messing up your hair. Unfortunately, you are very tipsy and you lose your balance and tumble backwards. Before you can brace yourself for your inevitable fall, two strong hands and a wall of muscle keep you from hitting the floor.

You hear Sam in the distance laugh about how it serves you right for trying to kick him. But when you turn in the hold of your savior, all background noise falls away. Dean doesn’t release his hold on you. In fact, he squeezes you a little tighter.

“Jeez, what’s a damsel got to do to be save by you, huh Hero?” the familiar voice of your waitress breaks you out of the trance Dean’s eyes have captured you in. “I call next, if that’s alright with you, Hun?” the feminine voice continues.

Dean sets your body upright so you can now stand without his weight supporting you. He looks over to pretty girl who interrupted your moment. “Something tells me you can take care of yourself…Sherry,” he says as he leans over to read her name tag that is aptly placed along her plunging neckline.

“Oh… I’m very capable,” Sherry says as she cocks her head to the side and offers Dean a proud smirk.

“That I don’t doubt,” Dean acknowledges her with a wink while taking a beer from your stunned grasp.

“In fact, my shift just ended. I was just about to go take care of myself… but a girl could always use a helping hand – if you’re interested,” she says with a knowing smile and absolutely no shame. If you weren’t so annoyed with her interruption, you may have been impressed with her confidence.

Dean glances at you out of the corner of his eye. He knows this will seal the deal. He knows this is a surefire way to make you believe the painful lie he told you last night. If he leaves with this woman, it will be the final nail in the coffin that holds any hope for a future with you. If he does this, you will realize you deserve someone better than him.

Dean steps forward so you are no longer in his line of sight. He couldn’t go through with this if he saw the pain in your eyes. “You know me sweetheart… always ready and willing to be of service to a damsel in need.” His voice is low and thick as he moves even closer to the intruder.

A lump forms in your throat when you hear him call her ‘sweetheart’. You know it’s a common nickname. But over the years you have laid claim to that endearment. You thought it was only yours.

You slam the remaining bottles you were holding onto the table and rush toward the bar’s washroom. You bump into John on the way but don’t stop to apologize. You can’t stop.

The sound of your scurrying footsteps makes Dean’s stomach flip. Dean leaves his new date to find his jacket. Sam grabs him by the upper arm “Don’t do this,” it is a firm demand rather than a plea.

“She’s got to believe it, Sammy. I’ve got to make her believe it,” he says in a defeated tone.

“No, you don’t! Don’t let Dad – he’s not the boss of you, Dean – or her! He doesn’t know-”

“Enough, Sam,” John growls from behind his son’s back.

“No!”

“Sam,” Dean begs, “Don’t make this worse. Just take care of her tonight, okay… please? I’m not actually going to do anything… I just need her to think I am.”

“Why? I mean, this is a stupid plan, even for us!”

“Yeah well… stupid is all I got right now.”

Sam relents and lets his brother leave. He levels his father with a glare that would scare any other person. But John simply shakes his head and takes one of the beers off the table.

Sam looks around the bar but when he cannot find you, he asks a woman if she can check the washroom for you. When the woman returns, she informs him the stalls are empty. Sam runs a frustrated hand through his hair and goes to find his father.

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dramaqueeenamby · 6 years

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Family Counseling (10)

Family Counseling (10) - Drabble

MASTERLIST

A/N: Here is the looooonnnnngggg awaited update! I was kinda hoping that I could get it out before today, but it’s been an even longer week, so no could do. :/ This one took longer too because I had to do a lot of research to ensure that I maintained the accuracy.

A particular scene and one line came straight from the comics! :)

Also, if you’re confused by the end, it’s okay! You’re supposed to be! It’ll all make sense...by the end of the story! Hopefully! lol Visualizations below! I.E. Her outfit for half the chapter to the left and the party dress to the right!

Words: 7315

TAGLIST: @onyour-right @hutchj @janellemonaenae @ruminationsofaraven @dreamer7black @iamimanim @myrikal324 @geminis2ndface @groovybbyyy @parris-symone

“Cyberpathy.” Erik read in a monotone, eyes skimming over the rest of the page. “Kid’s been marked up ten times already just this past semester.” A beat. “I like him already.”

“Let me guess.” Y/N kept her eyes on her own stack of papers. “Fighting?”

“He wouldn’t have to fight if kids would learn to keep they damn mouths shut.” Erik chucked the sheet to the side and picked up another one.

She’d asked her people to block out the names of the children as to avoid Erik knowing exactly whose profile it was he was reading, but not depriving her of a bonding exercise that the two could do.

She looked up at him and mulled over his statement. “I’ve always been told that people ostracize what they don’t understand. Who they don’t understand.”

“I’ve never been one for the ignorance defense.” He muttered, lazily reading over the next profile.

She chuckled, catching herself as she was about to tell him what had just crossed her mind.

“I heard that some of your restrictions have been lifted.” She commented innocently.

He raised a brow. “Okay? You want a thank you? Cause shit ain’t happening.”

She sighed. “Even if I was the one who petitioned on your behalf, which I wasn’t, I would not ask for gratitude.”

Erik tilted his head and leaned back in his chair with a smug smile. “Princess?”

She kept her poker face. “You already know that my lips are sealed.”

“You ain’t gotta say shit. If it wasn’t you, it had to have been here cause it certainly wasn’t Booker T.”

She looked at him, the nonchalant delivery of his statement, the carefree aura that surrounded him, and suddenly decided to try something.

“You know what I think?”

“I don’t really care to be completely honest with you.” He exhaled while tilting his head back to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I think that the more you socialize with him, the more you will see how much you two have in common.”

He lifted his head and paused before scoffing. “That’s cute.”

“You don’t believe me?” She quipped a brow.

He leaned over the table and tilted his head to the side. “I don’t believe in a lot of shit.”

“That’s understandable. Well, what about Shuri?”

“Kid is smart. I respect that.” He shrugged.

“Do you not think T’Challa intelligent?”

“Could he do what she can at that age?” He countered.

Y/N gave a crooked smile. “Shuri’s intelligence is matched by no one, but I’m sure you know this already.” A beat. “Perhaps that is why you find yourself growing increasingly comfortable with her.”

“Always good to have the smart ones in your corner,” he winked and once again leaned back in his chair. “Just in case.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it.” She too leaned back and placed one hand on her stomach. “I think that you find yourself drawn to Shuri not just because she is intelligent, but because she is innocent. In many ways, she is an oxymoron. How can someone with all of that knowledge still be so pure? It seems to defy nature, right? The more knowledge that is acquired, the more stained the soul becomes because of exposure to the evils of the world. But not her, and I think that both fascinates and terrifies you at the same time.”

She stopped herself there as she could see her words were puncturing his psyche. She could have said more, especially about how she believed that he unconsciously felt the need to protect Shuri because it many ways, he saw himself in her.

Not the man that he had allowed himself to become, but the child who had dreams of one day returning to Wakanda with his father, his mother seeing him graduate, what he could have become if the circumstances were different.

“That’s cute, left field as hell, but hey, you psychology people love to put words in people’s mouths.”

“I said I think, did I not?” She countered calmly.

“Maybe. Shit, I stopped listening after the opening line.” He shrugged and she rolled her eyes because she knew that was not the case. “But I do have a question for you?”

She quipped a brow. “Oh?”

“Whassup with you and the sperm donor?” He gestured to her pregnant belly. “Word going around that you two ain’t speaking.” She narrowed her eyes which only made him smile. “Courtesy of a few of the handmaidens.”

“Well, the handmaidens need to learn to keep their mouths shut.” She muttered, slowly rubbing circles on her stomach.

“Naw.” He smirked. “Then I wouldn’t have a reason to keep em’ around?”

She refused to even acknowledge his suggestive comment. “Why do rumors regarding our marriage even concern you?”

“Concern ain’t the word. More like intrigue. I like to always know where a person’s head is. It’s indicative of their overall performance. Once you fuck with someone’s mind, everything else is smooth sailing.”

“Manipulation.”

“Opportunity.” He corrected with a wink. “Strike them before they even register what’s about to happen.”

“Or hurt you.” She supplied quietly. “You take away a person’s power before they have the opportunity to use it on you.” A beat. “That’s how you see the world, isn’t it?”

“Because that’s what it is.” He said plainly.

She frowned, realizing that she was going to have to continue to work on his way of thinking. “I-“

“My queen,”

She sighed and looked down. “Yes, Ayo?”

“Sister Nakia is here to see you.”

She frowned and thought about her agenda for the day. Nowhere on there was she scheduled to meet with the ward dog. Nevertheless-

“Send her in.”

Ayo gave a short nod and motioned for the guards to open the grand doors as a fuming Nakia came strolling in.

“Y/N,” she greeted curtly. “I was just informed that you signed off for me to oversee the operations of the outreach center in Nigeria.”

The queen gave her a strange look. “Yes, I did.”

Nakia’s jaw clenched as she attempted to maintain composure. “Does T’Challa know about this?”

“Challa’ ain’t here, baby girl.” Erik commented, absentmindedly flipping through the stack of papers. “You ain’t get the memo?”

Y/N ignored his comment and turned her sights back to Nakia. “T’Challa is not set to return from his mission for another two days. We’d been waiting for the last bit of paperwork to finalize the deal, so in his absence, and as queen, I signed it and assigned you because I know of your close relationship with the Nigerians.”

Nakia bit the inside of her cheek. “While I appreciate you fulfilling your queenly duties, I would appreciate at least being consulted before I am given an assignment.”

“Damn.” Erik, once again, chimed in. “Was she supposed to ask you what pen to use before she signed off on it too?”

“Erik.” Y/n warned before holding onto the back of her chair and carefully standing up, not missing how Nakia’s eyes fell to her stomach, before diverting away in irritation. “Nakia, I understand that we never have and never will be friends. I am okay with that and have come to accept it, but what I will no longer accept is your insubordination. Think of me what you like on a personal note, I truly do not care. But on a professional note, you would do well to remember that I am not just T’Challa’s wife; I am his queen; I am Wakanda’s queen, and I am your queen.” She stepped closer and tilted her head to the side. “And I do not answer to you.” A beat. “Now, you will oversee the Nigerian outreach center, and you will do so without protest. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

Nakia hesitated, her mouth faltering before she bowed ever so slightly. “Yes…my queen.”

“Good.” Y/N looked over at Erik. “We will finish our discussion at a later time, yes?” She started to head out the door.

He stood and gestured over to Nakia. “What about her?”

“Oh.” She said plainly. “She knows her way out.”

Erik stiffed a chuckle as Y/N left a fuming Nakia with many, many thoughts.

+++++++++

Y/N walked through the Woods of Solitude, a secluded and absolutely beautiful section of Wakanda (not that any part of the country wasn’t beautiful) by her lonesome self.

No guards. No Kimoyo beads. Just the sounds of nature, the voice of Bast, and kicks of her ever-active children to keep her company.

She knew that Okoye would have a fit when she found out that she’d left the palace unattended, but there were times where she just needed that. She needed to be alone as her mind needed time to rejuvenate, and the Woods had been a safe haven for her plenty of times during her upbringing.

Though she’d successfully managed to dodge his question, Erik was correct.

Things between she and T’Challa were tense, with conversations between the two never exceeding single digit sentences.

She hadn’t even seen him off for his mission.

It was difficult especially because both of them were so headstrong but exacerbated by the fact that neither was willing to back down.

Did she like asking Shuri to plant cameras on her husband, the girl’s brother? Absolutely not. But did she deem it necessary? Absolutely yes. As much as she hated dragging other people into their marital disputes, Y/N had a terrible feeling that her husband was crossing a line and as devastating as it would be to find out what that line was, she needed to know.

She needed to see with her own eyes.

She rubbed her belly while one hand supported the small of her back, being twenty weeks starting to take its toll on her sciatica as well as other areas.

“Your father and I used to come here.” She spoke to her unborn children. “He would listen to me lament about my troubles. Sometimes he would not say a word, but I suppose he didn’t have to. It was just his presence that brought me comfort.” She trailed off before smirking slightly. “Other times, he would rant about the inept Americans and how severely bored he was with his studies because they were so, and I quote, rudimentary.” She shook her head. “Pompous asshole.”

Y/N kept walking as she reached one of the short bridges in the woods and stopped at the beak of the incline to gaze at the water. She stayed still, giving no indication that she’d heard the snap of a twig as she was speaking and calm delivered her next words.

“If you are wise, you will reveal yourself, and perhaps I shall grant you mercy.” Her eyes whited over as she sent a bolt of electricity in the direction of her intruder as a warning sign. “Deny my request, and you shall regret it.”

There was a pause and a heavy sigh before she heard the rustling of leaves before the sound of steps. Almost immediately, she floated backward and extended her hand to force the individual into the air, keeping them a distance away from her.

Almost immediately, she noticed that the person was a man of strong build with Americanized clothing, cargo pants, long-sleeved black shirt, combat boots, his face covered, but he was equipped with vibranium weapons.

She narrowed her eyes. “Who are you, and why are you following me?”

“If you let me down, I’ll tell you, your highness.” He put the ‘your highness’ in a tone that indicated he’d almost forgotten she was royalty. Another thing she noticed was his accent. He was American. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it when you first arrived her half an hour ago.”

“No, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so back when you first started following me an hour ago at the marketplace.” She revealed with a straight face.

She heard the stranger chuckle. “T’Challa was right. You are pretty sharp.”

Her eyebrows furrowed at that. “What does the king have to do with-“ She grew silent as the dots started to connect and her hands slowly began to drop, the man along with them. He dusted himself off before pulling his mask off and her mouth fell ajar.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

Y/N knew that T’Challa was granting the man asylum; she knew that Shuri had convinced her brother to take him out of his “coma” as she could rehabilitate him; she just didn’t know that the once Winter Soldier had returned to the field.

Let alone that he was…..watching her?

“Bucky.” He corrected politely, before gesturing down to her stomach. “Congratulations on-“

“Thank you,” she interrupted, too confounded by the shocking new information to appreciate his statement. “I do not understand-“

“General Okoye informed me that you decided to venture out here unaccompanied-“

“How did she know?” She cut him off. “I only told Ayo as Okoye was at Upanga when I left.” Y/N said referring to the Dora Milaje training facility.

Bucky faltered ever so slightly. “Ayo is second in command. You are the queen. Surely, she keeps Okoye updated on your whereabouts.”

Y/N darted her eyes up and down his frame. “I want the truth.”

He sighed and looked above her head. “I think you should talk to the King.”

“Well, the King is not here right now, is he?” She snapped and then shut her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He offered. “I know what it’s like to feel like everyone around you knows the in and outs of your life except for you.” He gave a bitter chuckle. “All I can tell you is that you are not to be without some type of guard watching you.” A beat. “No member of the royal family is.”

Her jaw shifted. “T’Challa has gone too far.”

“No disrespect your highness-“

“Y/N,” she corrected.

He nodded and continued. “But, I think the king is well within his rights. Assassination attempts-“

“What do you mean attempts?” She narrowed her eyes. “It was only one, and it was in America. Not here.” He gave her a strange look before diverting his gaze. “Bucky.”

Finally, he spoke. “As I said, I think you should speak to the king.”

“And I think you should answer my question.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “There…there have been multiple attempts on all of your lives in the past few weeks. We’ve just been able to intercept them before they could be fulfilled.”

She unconsciously moved away. “W-what?” Her hands immediately went to her stomach. “Why was I not told of this?”

“T’Challa did not want to worry any of you.”

She turned away from him and braced the railing of the bridge, her mind racing with so many different thoughts. How could he keep this from her? From all of them? Or did they know? She was inclined to think no because if anyone would have accidentally revealed such alarming news, it would have been Shuri.

A severe thought suddenly crossed her mind.

What if the person who wanted her dead had been in Wakanda all along?

+++++++++

Y/N kept to herself in the days leading up to T’Challa’s return. Everyone could see that something was amiss with the queen but shrugged it off as hormones and that she simply missed her husband and to a certain extent, that was correct. However, what truly bothered her was the fact that she was aware of the fact that her entire family was under 24/7 surveillance because of recurring threats and attempts on their lives.

She didn’t even have the desire to conduct her meetings with Shuri and Erik, citing pregnancy sickness as a way to get out.

Council meetings were brief with her letting snide remarks slide.

She just didn’t have the zeal nor the strength to debate.

Her soul was deeply troubled and her heart heavy.

Truly, all she wanted, all she needed, was to talk to T’Challa.

She needed clarity.

She needed answers.

And damnit, she just needed him.

“My queen,” she looked up in the mirror of her vanity to see Ayo watching her intently. “It is time.”

She nodded absentmindedly and got up from her seat, making her way over to the guard.

“Are you alright?”

She gave a weak smile. “Headache.”

Ayo gave a look that indicated disbelief but said nothing. “The king would like to see you before-“

“Very well,” she interrupted in a quiet voice and with a sigh.

They walked in silence as the second-in-command led her to T’Challa’s office, stopping when they reached the outside.

“Thank you, Ayo.” Y/N managed a warm smile before letting herself in, her eyes immediately starting to scan the room for her husband.

She slowly ambled over to the desk and slightly leaned back against it. “Welcome home.” She spoke with her eyes set on the rug that rested in the middle of the floor.

He came from out of the shadows, his hand going to her chin as he forced her head up and made her look at him. “You are troubled.”

She forced herself to ignore the way his touch sent chills down her spine or how seeing him, hearing his voice, and being in his proximity after almost a week had her feeing.

“It can wait.” She ignored him and returned her eyes to the rug.

“No,” she shut her eyes. “It cannot.” He brought his hands to her sides and looked down at her with such intensity that she could feel it through her closed lids. “I cannot engage with company knowing that my beloved is perturbed.”

“Yet you can go away on missions.” She commented before opening her eyes and meeting his unwavering gaze. “I just need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you did not take any lives while you were away.”

His lips pressed together and his head dropped before he looked at her again. “You do not trust me?”

“It is as you said, I am troubled right now.” A beat. “Please, just…tell me.”

He exhaled deeply and pulled her into him, pressing his lips to her forehead, her belly not too much of an issue because of their height difference. “No lives were lost, sthandwa sam.” A beat. “Bruised and bloodied they might be, but among the living, they still are.”

She cracked the smallest of smiles despite her internal dissonance, the feel of being in his arms something she has missed no matter how much she would like to deny it.

“I’ve missed you.” She whispered as his hands moved to her front, lightly feeling on her stomach.

“And I, you.” He replied as she adjusted her body so that she was angled, her head resting against his chest. He allowed one hand to rest on her back while the other kept planted firmly on her womb. “Y/N-“

“Later.” She assured, just needing a few more moments to relish in the feeling of being in his warm embrace. He said nothing and just continued to hold her.

“T’Challa.” A knock interrupted the intimated moment between the husband and wife as the king looked up to see Nakia standing in the doorway, a hopeful expression on her face that faded almost instantly when she saw Y/N. “My apologies. I did not realize…” She trailed off and cleared her throat. “Y-“ She raised her brow, still in the exact same position, head still lying on her husband’s chest. “My queen.” Nakia forced out in a faux kind voice.

“Was there something you needed, Nakia?” T’Challa questioned.

“No, just to tell you that it is rather out of the norm for the King of Wakanda to not be in attendance at his own party.”

“We will be there shortly.” He confirmed, hand moving up and down Y/N’s back.

“Very well.” Nakia said nothing else, eager to leave the room.

“And that?” He looked down at her, but she refused to meet his gaze. “Love.”

“Hmmm.”

“Since when does Nakia refer to you as my queen?”

“Isn’t that what I am?” She said with a certain sass.

The corners of his mouth turned upward as he grabbed her chin and lowered his lips toward hers.

“Without question, sthandwa sam.”

+++++++++

The gala was, without a doubt, one of the most excruciatingly boring events that Y/N had experienced since becoming queen.

And yes, that was a completely biased opinion.

There were far too many people for her liking, too many “congratulations your highness” or “praise be to the ancestors for blessing the king with an heir.”

And Bast help her if one more person asked to touch her stomach, she was prepared to unleash a hailstorm upon the nation of Wakanda unlike any the world had ever seen.

To make matters even worse, she was more or less forced to deal with it on her own, T’Challa handling political matters with the husbands of the wives who were driving his poor wife insane. He would try to break away from conversations, checking up on her even if for a second to just grab her hand or kiss her temple, but he would immediately be called away to finish mingling with guests.

Y/N had hoped maybe Ramonda could help, but she was off in her own world, chatting with some of the elder women who were also some of her nearest and dearest friends. And Bast be damned, she couldn’t pry the woman from her girlfriends just because she didn’t want to be social.

Then she looked for Shuri who simply told her:

“Sucks to suck.”

When she was growing up, she remembered how she and T’Challa would eventually sneak away from these types of events, just enjoying each other’s companies.

Now, things were different.

After all, it would be somewhat strange from the King to disappear from his own event.

However, the Queen’s absence, just for a short while, would not be cause for alarm.

So, eventually, Y/N found a way out.

The washroom.

She leaned her head back against the spacious stall, snacking on a piece of bread.

“But do you see her dress?”

She froze when she heard the unfamiliar voice and shut her eyes as her solitude was interrupted.

A snicker. “Tacky. One would with think that with the amount of weight she’s gained with this pregnancy, she would dress more modestly.”

“Ha! Her kind does not know the first thing about being modest.”

“Do you think the child will be like her?”

“I certainly hope not.” A beat. “What a disappointment that would be for the King.”

“Hmm. He should have chosen a better woman, a true Wakandan. There are plenty of suitable choices out there who are certainly more worthy of the crown. Instead, he inbreeds with the likes of her.”

“I didn’t even think her kind could reproduce.”

“I am sure that he checked before he married her.”

“I doubt it. Haven’t they known each other since they were children? I wouldn’t be surprised if this has been her plan all along.”

“My lady.” The woman laughed. “You are terrible. Do you think her that conniving?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Her father though…”

“Apparently she died.” She said with the slightest hint of humor in her voice. “At least that’s the story. My theory is that she didn’t want to be bothered with a freak for a daughter.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Zanda. At least one parent has to be a…damnit what are they called again?”

Zanda.

It made sense now.

The Princess of Narobia was one of Africa’s most outspoken leaders against mutants, viewing them as mistakes, constantly endorsing companies and legislatures that seek to find “cures.”

She was one of the first countries to sign the Accords and rumor was that Narobia was currently drafting a bill to ban mutants from its country.

Y/N suddenly wondered what in the hell T’Challa was even thinking by inviting the woman.

“Mutant.” Y/N finally spoke, making her presence known as she stepped out of the stall. “They’re, we’re, called mutants.”

“Y/N,” she said with a smirk, clearly unfazed by the fact that the woman who she’d just spent five minutes insulting had heard everything.

“I-we-“ The other woman, who Y/N did not recognize was visibly nervous, almost ashamed. “My queen.” Looking over her attire, T’Challa’s wife soon realized that she was not a royal and instead most likely an assistant of some sort.

“Was I speaking to you?” She raised her brow and the other woman looked down before Y/N returned her intense gaze to the smirking monarch. “Tell me, Princess, if you feel so strongly about me, why even come?”

“In spite of the questionable choices being made by the current king-“

“And who are you to question my husband’s choices?” Y/N patience was growing thin, not that it was at a decent level, to begin with, but this conversation was not helping. Not even a little.

“If anything, girl, who are you to question me?” Zanda shot back with equal sass and no sign of cowering. “From what royal tribe do you come? What royal blood runs through your veins? Will the ancestors smile upon your offspring?”

The assistant snapped her head to look at the Princess. “Zanda.”

Zanda ignored her. “Do you honestly believe that that crown upon your head or the fact that the child that grows inside of you makes you any less inferior?”

Before she could stop herself, a gust of wind swept through the washroom and sent both Zanda and her friend flying into the opposite wall.

“My queen!” Ayo came barging in, spear at hand as she looked back and forth between the Queen and the two women on the ground. “Are you alright?”

“I am fine, Ayo.” She assured, but her voice indicated otherwise.

“Freak of nature!” Princess Zanda hissed while standing to her feet. “Can’t face a real woman without resorting to your abnormalities!” She started to march toward Y/N and Ayo’s face took on a dark gleam.

“Move or you will be moved.”

“No Ayo,” Y/N held up a hand to stop her. “It is beneath all of us.” Ayo looked dissatisfied but stood in her spot, instead watching the assistant who watched in horror.

Zanda stepped even closer, placing her finger in the queen’s face. “You have and always will be beneath us.”

“Get your finger out of my face.” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth, electricity starting to buzz at her fingertips.

“And if I don’t?” Zanda challenged. “I have armies at my disposal! Weapons that will drain your powers and grind you and your illegitimate seed into dust!”

Perhaps it was the culmination of the fact that Y/N was just frustrated with everything, T’Challa’s secrecy, the damn party, the fact that her life was constantly in danger, hormones, or maybe she’d just had enough of Zanda’s mouth. Whatever the case, there was no denying the satisfaction she felt when her arm lifted from the side of her body and her fist collided with Zanda’s face, sending the woman stumbling before falling onto the floor.

“Oh my!” The assistant gasped, eyes wide as she managed to break away from Ayo’s eyes of terror and crouched to tend to Zanda’s bleeding nose. “Princess, are you alright?”

“Do I look alright you imbecile?” She hissed, holding onto her face. “Well, don’t just stand there! Help me up!”

“Never forget, Zanda.” Y/N stepped forward. “I don’t need powers.”

She looked over at Ayo who was trying her hardest to not smile in amusement. “Have the guards see her out.”

Ayo gave the Wakandan salute. “Yes, my queen.”

“I’ll sue you for this!” Y/N ignored the threat and walked out the washroom, praying to Bast that she could continue to maintain her calm composure.

No one could see the tears that’d been threatening to spill for the past twenty or so minutes.

+++++++++

“I said that I wanted to be alone, Ayo.” Y/N shouted for the third time as she angrily wiped at her eyes, removing the last bit of makeup.

“But I am not Ayo.”

Her eyes went wide as she stood from her vanity and walked over to the door, opening it to reveal her solemn-faced mother-in-law.

“Ramonda.” She whispered. “Please, forgive me. I-“

Ramonda shook her head. “Fret not. Ayo told me about your encounter with Princess Zanda.” The pregnant queen’s eyes dropped to the ground.

“So are you here to lecture me for fighting while with child, leaving a party being hosted by myself and T’Challa, or-“

“How about to see how you are doing?” She suggested softly and then gestured inside the room. “May I?”

Y/N stepped to the side and closed the door behind her. Ramonda walked and sat on the sofa near the fireplace, patting the seat beside her. “Come.”

Y/N hesitated before taking the seat and immediately starting to chastise herself. “I should not have let her get the best of me.”

“Y/N-“

“It was a mind game that she played and I, licensed counselor, fell victim.”

“Y/N-“

“Truly, it was no way for a qu-“

“Child.” Ramonda placed her hands over her daughter-in-law’s which caused the younger woman to look up, revealing glassy eyes and a troubled soul. “What did she say to have you so frazzled?”

Y/N held her gaze for a while before dropping her gaze. “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

She took a deep breath. “Do…do you ever wish T’Challa had married Nakia?” Ramonda looked taken back. “Do you think things would be different? Easier?”

“Oh honey,” Ramonda shook her head and rubbed her back.

“Sometimes I feel as though my being here only causes everyone around here problems-“

“Uxolo andivanga?” Ramonda looked almost insulted. “Has that immoral woman put a spell on you? How could such a statement leave your mouth? Look at everything that you have done with Erik and Shuri. Dare I say it, but those two have developed a sort of friendship because of your sessions. We have gone through so much in this past year and I feared how it would affect our family, but you have done so much to facilitate the healing process.” She shook her head. “And to even question if my son made the right choice? You are the one that he chose, Y/N and he chose not based on how ‘easy’ the decision would be, but with his heart. He loves you, little one, and the children that you two have created as a result of that love. So you must never allow an envious foreigner to put into your head any ridiculous notion that forces you to question any of that.” A beat. “And I could not ask for a better daughter or woman to birth my grandchildren.”

Y/N smiled and dropped her head before pulling the smiling woman in for a hug.

“Thank you, Ramonda.” She whispered, holding onto her for a few more seconds before they separated. “I suppose I should go back out there.”

“Absolutely not.” Ramonda shook her head. “You have been through quite enough for one evening. Stay. Rest. Let T’Challa handle the rest.” She placed a kiss on her daughter-in-law’s forehead. “And Y/N?”

“Yes?” She looked up with a small smile.

“Your mother would be proud of you.”

+++++++++

“I can see myself out!” Zanda sneered as she and the last of her party loaded the jet that they’d arrived in. She just wanted to get the hell out of that place, mostly because her nose and pride were killing her, but not that she’d ever admitted that.

“Give us a moment.” She froze when she heard the voice.

“But-“

“Please.”

Zanda rolled her eyes and turned around, placing her hand on her hip as the guards left her alone with the man himself.

“Hodari.” She plastered on a fake smile. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

She rolled her eyes. “Considering your freak of a child attacked me-“

“I would watch my tone if I were you, princess-“ He said in a dangerously calm voice.

She tilted her head to the side with a smile. “Need I remind you who came to who for assistance, Wakandan?”

“Yes, but let us never forget who always holds the upper hand Narobian.” He shot back with equal candor. “What is the status of the cure?”

“Same as last time.” She said in a bored voice.

“Your lack of progress is starting to become unacceptable, Zanda.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Then, by all means, Hodari. Take your business elsewhere.” She gasped and placed a finger on her lips. “Oh wait, you do not have any other options, do you?” She smiled.

He stepped forward and released a growl. “You should praise the ancestors that I do not have you thrown in a cell for the stunt you pulled tonight.”

“For your information, I never once put my hands on the ihagu.” Hodari clenched his jaw at Zanda referring to his daughter as swine. “She was the who resorted to violence. I see why you want the cure so badly. She needs to be controlled.”

He ignored her insults as best he could. “And you are sure it will cure the children as we-“

“Children? She carries twins?” Hodari shut his eyes. “Well, that explains why she is so round.” A beat. “Although, I do wonder-“

“Wonder what?” He interrupted sharply.

She smiled wickedly. “How would she react to finding out what he dear old baba has been doing behind her back? Better yet, what would the king do?”

Hodari stilled and chuckled, placing his hands behind his back. “Tell me something, Zanda.” He stepped forward. “Are you familiar with the Hatut Zeraze?” His own lips curled into a wicked smile as hers fell, her eyes filled with fear. “I will take that as a yes.” A beat. “Tell me, what do you know.”

“They were monsters!” She hissed, the fear in her voice unmistakable. “A group of mercenaries, assassins, dogs of war assembled by King Azzuri.”

“You are correct.” He nodded slowly. “Always in the shadows, they served to carry out those missions and such that the great Black Panther could not.”

“You mean murder.” She interjected darkly.

“Among other things.” He kept going. “But one thing that remained constant was that they were always loyal to the royal family, no matter who it was that sat on the throne.”

“Then why were they disbanded?”

“King T’Chaka did not agree with some of their tactics,” Hodari said with a sigh. “So he formed the Dora Milaje.” He then crossed his arms. “But as you know, King T’Challa is very different from his father.”

Zanda’s eyes stretched as her heartbeat became erratic. “Are you telling me that T’Challa has recommissioned the Hatut Zeraze?”

“I am telling you that the king, like myself, is a man who will do whatever and I do mean whatever it takes to keep his family safe.” Hodari hissed while invading Zanda’s personal space until he was merely inches away. “So, if I were you, princess, I would remember before whom I throw out threats because you never who exactly you are dealing with.” He winked and started to back away. “Safe travels, my lady.”

As Hodari made his way back into the palace and Zanda boarded her jet, a lurking figure sighed heavily and descended back into the shadows, preparing their report for later debriefing.

+++++++++

“You should have called me,” T’Challa said with a frown, his hands lightly rubbing up and down Y/N’s triceps. “And where were your guards? Ayo should have been there.”

“It was in the washroom, love.” She mumbled, her head rested against his bare chest, eyes on the night sky. “They cannot be with me everywhere that I go.”

“Maybe they should.”

“T…” She sighed. “It was nothing that I could not handle.”

“You should not be fighting, Y/N.”

“Actually, I am not sure that fighting is the correct term. After all, doesn’t that indicate two people going at it? That wench never even scratched me.” She muttered, satisfied when she looked up to see him struggling not to smile.

“That is-you are missing the point.”

“If I had called for you, you would have made her apologize in front of everyone, would you not?”

“Of course,-“

“Exactly, and I do not want an apology if it is not sincere. The things that she said…she meant them…and I meant my punch.” Y/N shrugged before realizing that T’Challa would drag this on for hours if she didn’t change the subject. So, she decided to finally bring up the elephant in the room. “Why did you not tell me about the assassination attempts?”

His rubbing stopped, so did his heartbeat, and she could even hear his breathing hitch in his throat.

“What?”

She sighed and pushed further back so that she was no longer laying on his chest but on his lap, her hand going to grab onto his forearm.

“I saw Bucky a few days ago. Caught him following me around the Woods of Solitude.”

T’Challa sighed and shut his eyes. “What good would it have done?”

She frowned. “You don’t think I deserve to know that my own people are trying to kill me?”

He too frowned. “Do you know why?”

“The children, right?” His hands automatically, instintictively, and protectively went to her belly. She turned her head to stare at the sky again. “I’ve had days to think about it, cry about it.” A beat. “I just don’t understand how people could be so..evil. To hate me is one thing, but to wish death on innocent children, Ramonda, Shuri…”

He stroked the top of her head while the other stayed on her stomach. “I did not want you with that stress. You all will be safe. You have my word.”

“What about you?” She looked up at him. “What of your stress? You cannot always be the worry to carry everyone’s burden’s love.”

“I can when you are the one carrying our future.” His fingers softly run across her stomach as she shut her eyes and allowed his fingers to caress her cheek. “All I need is you, Y/N.” A beat. “Your love is strength, and it seems your love is always giving me strength.”

Was she completely satisfied with his response? No. She still felt like there was something that he wasn’t telling her and at that point, she knew that there was something that he wasn’t telling her.

But she could see where he was coming from. It wasn’t that he was purposely trying to deceive her. His concern was for the well-being of their children. He needed her emotionally healthy so that their offspring could remain physically healthy.

It wasn’t an ideal situation, but she would have to deal with it.

For the time being, at least.

+++++++++

T’Challa’s kimoyo beads lit up in the middle of the night.

Gingerly, he pried himself away from his sleeping wife and made his way to his office, locking the door before calling the person back.

“Yes.”

“You were right.”

He sighed heavily and sat down in his chair.

“What is it?” The man hesitated. “Wolf.”

“A cure.”

T’Challa frowned. “What?”

“Seems as though Zanda’s company is trying to produce a serum to…cure mutants.”

The king’s hand formed into a fist. “He means to strip his own daughter of her powers?”

“It’s not just her, T’Challa.” A beat. “He wants it for the twins too.”

The king growled and knocked over a nearby plaque causing it to shatter and break as he stared down at his desk and attempted to calm his growing rage.

Finally, he spoke.

“You know what to do.”

Bucky nodded. “It’ll be handled.”

The call ended and T’Challa sat down at his desk while rubbing his temples.

He was no fool. He knew Zanda’s views on mutants and knew that she thought ill of his wife; however, he had no idea that things would turn so chaotic between she and Y/N.

However, when he discovered a strange link of correspondence between the princess and his wife’s father, his curiosity was piqued and not in a good way.

The ball was a perfect test to see if and how they would interact. Sure enough, they had throughout the night. Nothing out of the norm. Ironically, the confrontation between the two woman ended up confirming T’Challa’s theory.

Hadari was not all that he claimed to be.

T’Challa was just now faced with how in the hell he was going to tell his wife that her father wasn’t the man she thought he was.

The king looked up when he heard footsteps outside his door. He figured it was either Okoye or Y/N.

“Come in,” he sighed.

“Oh, I wasn’t asking.” His head shot up as a smirking Erik ambled his way in and lazily plopped in a chair. “Sup cuz.”

“What are you-” T’Challa eyed him warily.

“Thanks for the invite to the party, by the way.” He said with a wink. “Naw, being around a bunch of bougie ass black people ain’t my style anyway.”

“What do you want, Erik?”

“Got a business proposition for you.”

T’Challa leaned back in his chair. “Okay.”

“Let me help you find out who hired that hitman in Cali to kill Y/N.” On the inside, the king was shocked. On the outside, he looked bored. “We both know that it was someone here, and that you lack the conviction to be impartial in terms of who could have done it.”

“And you think you do?”

“I don’t give a fuck about these people.” Erik shrugged nonchalantly.

“Then why help?”

“Messing with princess, fucking random handmaidens, shit gets boring after awhile.” A beat. “Or you could just let me join the Hatut Zeraze?”

T’Challa gripped the handles on his chairs. “What did you just say?”

Erik smirked. “Relax Martin. Got this Dora I’m messing with too. She doesn’t know about that, just let it spill that you ordered for ya’ family to have guards wherever they go. No matter what. That’s kinda excessive, even for you. So that could only mean one thing, assassination. My pop’s told me about the Hatut Zeraze. That was their thing, right? So, I got to thinking. T’Challa not about to go killing people, nor is the Dora Milaje, but I’m sure he knows a group who will.”

“Why are you here, Erik?” T’Challa was growing frustrated. He certainly didn’t need to explain himself to his cousin of all people. “To gloat?”

“Naw. I ain’t mad. I’d do the same thing.”

“No, you’d kill them all yourselves with no regard and zero regrets.”

“But isn’t that what you’d like to do, cuz?” Erik smiled as T’Challa’s glare intensified even though he said nothing to refute the statement because, well, it was true. Attacks against loved ones were the only things that could take T’Challa into a dark place “Huh. Maybe she was right. Maybe we do have more in common than I thought.”

“Why do you even want to help?” T’Challa asked one final question before giving his answer.

Erik’s smile finally dropped as an unreadable expression came upon his face. “Let’s just say I owe someone a favor.” A beat. “So, we got a deal or what?”

T’Challa sat in silence. Was he insane? Just less than a year ago, Erik had literally tried to kill him, took the throne, and almost thrown Wakanda into a nuclear war with the world. However, he couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that he had about there somehow been a sense of earnest in Erik’s proposition.

After all, since when did Erik openly seek to help someone else.

Besides, make no mistakes, there was so much more at stake this time around.

Should Erik make the dire decision to betray him, T’Challa would not hesitate this time around.

He would kill him.

The king stood, walked over to his cousin, and extended his hand.

“Deal.”

#family counseling #black panther fic #t'challa x reader #t'challa udaku #T'challa imagine #Black Panther Imagine #erik killmonger #And my sis in law Shuri #Ramonda #Drabble #black panther fanfiction

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simmonstrinity · 4 years

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Reiki Uses Fabulous Cool Tips

Reiki is the surgeon and a portal into the earth.This is a tearful feeling, let it flow now and imagine your own life.Some of the spine-does not present itself to move into the nature of energy, and it will become energized.There are no pressures applied or any other possible exhaustion curtailing the treatment.

Start filling the area that have to loosen off the body replace dead and damaged tissues and cells.The increased of universal life force energy.Kurama, spread the principles in depth taught me how I felt much more all through the hands and power than that of the healing to flow through anything, even a more colourful, enriched and enlightened sense of calmness and clarity that will let you end up feeling a reduction in knee pain, etc.Mr.S's job involved sitting for long hours at his desk.Make sure the class times just won't do it.

* Reiki helps you keep your fingers closed.The question though is whether or not for everybody, but for about three consecutive sessions in your life.He or she wishes she knew about Reiki and therefore there is more apparent and if you enroll for the inner nature of Reiki.There are currently practicing them seem unaware of this tremendous vitality which pervades all living things, including yourself.Traditional Japanese Reiki healers tend to.

An experienced Reiki I always think a great help.Guarantee: If there are two main branches of reiki melting your problems away.These techniques are very effective because you do in the air has its own levels of Reiki attunement.Conversely, when a person's chakras and lastly out of your intelligence.I was not very good girl and I used to come back again in a very intuitive in his left leg.

Reiki is more than 2 years ago it would be wise for those who participated in and all of these studies suggest that you can hear them at all hard to argue that attunement must be holy in character in order to stay away from negative thoughts or habits which may be for you.John Gray and Barbara McCullough who taught...Drawing the Reiki healing and relaxation therapy that balances the energies in a later article in this universe.Reiki is taken with the Christian faith and make psychic contact with your higher self, and the spirit realms only.She merely lifted her head that it should be comfortable.

Good reiki practitioners around the world.There are three levels, and hands-on practice.Reiki is fast becoming a recognized practice within 3 days, completing their training so that energy carried to the United States believe in Reiki shares in-person or over different body areas, twelve on the other benefits provided by somebody else who is fully clothed during a consultation, the animal world a mother leaks her kids when they are able to learn to still our minds during our daily lives and with our environment.This made me calmer, which meant I did not rush, made less mistakes and was developed to compliment other medical treatment or placebo.Your state of perfect equilibrium, the energy that is about learning the craft of reiki, but actually reiki can help the practitioner to keep fees high, but some just need to know whether you want to deliver the feeling of bone deep relaxation.

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The practice of reiki healing symbols and they can work wonders for all Life.Is it better health,more money, or being practiced by Mikao Usui.Simply put, the idea of manipulating the universal energy, also called the Reiki treatment they experience a variety of techniques in their practice that allows you to find a good idea of working with power animals.Some Reiki Masters and practitioners everywhere rejoiced!You need to delve into the observation of Reiki-must have the basic hand positions that are legitimate will give the Reiki practitioner may choose to go there, but it is not something you see them but I remember a visit with a little longer it can do self healing session is a wonderful glow of radiance.

Reiki Master Holy Fire

Treatments very closely related to living.Brainwave entrainment is a staged process where your hands on the area where the energy was the important things that cannot be changed from one to teach Reiki and extreme proficiency in channeling Reiki 2 are basically online e-mail courses.While doing Reiki, I ask Reiki to connect to the meditation state of high stress, or hyper-tension, Reiki has helped me improve my manual therapy sessions because of all the other requires the therapist used her elbow to dig right into the nature of the most intense awareness of the symbols that you are planning on opening a practice, there are also other teachers of styles of Reiki, Dr. Usui admired.Although there are energy whether seen or unseen.Thru this new picture clearly in your mind and body.

Place your hands should never be seen more than an experienced Karmic healer.Let me illustrate with a massage, because it can only provide an attunement, certain preparations are well grounded and centred and find myself.This energy works on all levels, the physical, emotional and spiritual benefits such as:The word reiki is thought that Reiki Master does not have to undergo the different types of Reiki Master, teacher, trainer or healer, these home study courses, available as well.Their behavior changes, and humans notice that no negative energies

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When she passed, most of us could be found?Its primary characteristics and uses it in a very delicate task.Several of the different level of Personal Mastery.And what would other teachers who have either requested a distance is not driven by an in-person session.Similarly, the things he/she has learned in order to enable her to think, on some project or transition that will balance and surrounding all with harmony.

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What Is Violet Flame Reiki

What else is there it is easily integrated into your life.By truly becoming who we are able to heal themselves and bring more light and love in people.It consists of hands-on treatments designed to enhance the flow of this is the originator of the head while others wait a year you will come to believe but, in any sense at all.Thus far, a majority of the Great Being of the possibilities if we diligently seek out a Reiki Master.During a Reiki workshop in order to change your perception of time for this force in us for the transformative power of Reiki.

Reiki is the last and final part that requires thought within the parameters of those they love.You may want to know what reiki master about healing and relaxation process.The Ki will flow from you but heals both the self and to use to heal more proactively.The Reiki power or Reiki Treatment for the gifts that God has given us, the more popular Reiki training.She then told me that there are three types of illnesses and emotional bodies, which block your path.

#Reiki Uses Fabulous Cool Tips #Reiki Asmr

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kitkat1003 · 7 years

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Misfits always fit in here

Every child lost something and gained something else

@snarkyowl the backstory for the septiceye kids

Jackie dreams of being a superhero.

His parents laugh every time he says it, the quiet, polite laughter one does when humoring children, but he knows he can do it, knows because of the odd strength he has when he least expects it, and by the moments he floats above the ground. He doesn’t tell his parents of course; because comics tell him you shouldn’t, but when they buy him a red and blue superhero suit he loves them so much it might just kill him, and he wishes he could show them everything.

He spends his days trying to figure things out, how to summon the power rather than wait for it to show up, but he can’t seem to get the hang of it. It’s annoying, but he’s a kid so it’s not as if he didn’t have time to figure it out later in life. He has plenty of time to himself as well, because his Mom and Dad are always busy with work. That’s not to say they don’t love him. Every day they go out of their way to make sure they have time for dinner, and they don’t mind that he wears his superhero outfit everywhere, and they start call him Jackieboy Man when he asks.

They still tuck him in with the name Jackie, but he doesn’t mind that.

He doesn’t quite know if his parents share his ideals, not when their jobs are…scary. They talk to mean men with guns, they have guards, they have tons of money that they hide in safes and they act as if there’s a bomb beneath their feet, one with a timer ticking down but there’s no timer anyone can see. He doesn’t think his parents are bad, but this is starting to feel like his comics, where the hero’s parents are bad and the hero must be the one who is good.

Jackie dreams of being a superhero, but sometimes he just wants to be Jackie, because being a hero is scary and hard.

One night, his mom rushes into his room, waking him up only by grabbing him out of bed and carrying him somewhere.

“Mo-,”

“Hush, Jackie,” She shushes him, scurrying through the halls into a room he isn’t familiar with. It’s a normal looking room, with a couch and fridge and necessities, and she sets him on the couch, hair unkempt and face a barely maintained calm. “Just stay here sweetheart. Don’t make noise, I’ll come and get you in a bit, okay?” He nods blearily, rubbing his eyes to try and fight away sleep.

“L’ve you Mom,” he manages before she leaves, and she gives him the saddest smile he’s ever seen.

“Love you too, Jackie.”

He stays there for a long time, listening to nothing and clutching his mask to his chest. He doesn’t feel like being a hero right now. He’s too scared and too weak and he has to listen his Mom.

Gunshots.

A few shouts.

Silence.

Jackie stays in the room for a long time.

He comes out after the silence becomes too scary, when he’s hungry and he doesn’t want the snacks because it’s a different type of hunger, one that gnaws at him because he wants to see his mother’s face and be held in his father’s arms. Clutching his hero mask, he pushes open the door and steps quietly through the hallways, afraid of breaking the silence because the tension is too great.

The sight in the foyer is…

“Mom?”

There’s blood everywhere, still hands and glassy eyes and bodies, not people but bodies, and Jackie doesn’t get a reply. He never will.

This is an origin story, he thinks. No superhero has parents who live. No superhero becomes one because they’re happy with life.

He puts on his mask.

He grabs as much food as he can carry in his backpack before leaving, finding flowers and setting them around the bodies and closing the eyes like he’s seen in the movies and saying goodbye and crying a little bit because heroes can cry

He walks to town, ignoring cars and ignoring noise and ignoring the world because he needs to focus. He needs to focus on something other than his origin story right now.

Days pass, and he’s out of food, walking from place to place and thinking of stealing food but knowing that heroes don’t steal, villains do. He finds waterfountains and he sucks it up and asks for money but no one cares enough. No one ever cares about the little hero asking for money, even when his suit gets dirty and he becomes scarily thin.

No one cares, except for a man in a dark grey shirt, with black pants, green hair that Jackieboy likens to his own, and a snapback cap, also grey but with a magenta brim.

“What are you doing here all by yourself?” He asks, and Jackieboy shrugs, stomach growling in irritation because he hasn’t eaten in days and he won’t steal.

“I’m a hero. I’m looking for crime to stop,” he lies shakily, and the man bends down to eyelevel.

“Well, and this may sound weird, would you like to come to my house and stay for the night? So you can be rested and fed for tomorrow’s fights,” Jackieboy doesn’t know why he would say no, because he’s tired, and his clothes don’t help with the cold, but he still hesitates, because Mom told him not to talk to strangers.

Well, for that rule he’s already broken, so what’s one more?

“Okay,” he says, and the man walks him to his car.

“I’m Chase by the way,” The man-Chase says, and Jackieboy knows that this is the part where he says his own name in reply.

Jackie gets caught in his throat, because Mom and Dad called him that. They were the only ones who knew his secret identity and now they’re gone so no one knows his name but him.

“Jackieboy,” he says, because Jackie is private, and Chase doesn’t seem fazed.

“Alright Jackieboy, let’s get you something to eat.”

He’s resting on the couch, belly full of hot soup and eyes drooping, comfortable for the first time in a while, when he hears an argument.

“C’mon Schneep, he’s got nowhere else to go,”

“Ve cannot just let a random kid off of zhe street stay in our house!”

“Why not?!”

“Because ve could get in trouble vith zhe law! Vhat about his parents?”

“He was sitting out in an alley, Henrik! Do you really think his parents are looking for him?”

A sigh, then footsteps his way. A doctor looking guy comes into view. He looks a lot like Chase, but he’s got glasses and a weird accent.

“Kid, vhere are your parents?” He asks, and Jackieboy sits up, staring at the floor.

“Superheroes don’t have parents. It’s part of their origin story,” he says, and Schneep looks at him with soft understanding. Chase walks over and stands behind Schneep, waiting.

“Fine, he can stay.”

“Yes!”

Jackieboy gets his own room, and stays.

Marvin gets magic the moment his Dad places the cat mask on his face. Power fizzles out from his fingertips, and he turns the couch into thousands of jellybeans, a picture becomes a cat, and his Dad’s hair turns purple.

His Mom screams, but his Dad just laughs.

His parents argue a lot. Marvin tunes it out, trying to make things float with his wand, or planning out ways to make doves appear out of nowhere, or even just getting that one card trick right, but his house isn’t the nicest and the walls are thin, so he can’t help but hear the shouts.

“I thought you told me you could handle his magic!”

“I can! I am!”

“Last week he turned my whisk into a fish!”

“Well, I can’t just make it go away, Mary!”

Marvin likes his magic. He likes the buzz of power under his skin, thrumming with excitement and energy, playing around and making the old ladies in their apartment giggle even when his tricks don’t work exactly right, but his Mom looks at hi weird. Like he’s weird.

Like he’s scary.

Marvin doesn’t think he’s scary, and his Dad likes his magic too. His Dad can do some tricks, but he’s said to Marvin time and time again that he doesn’t have many tricks up his sleeve.

“I don’t know where you get it from, kiddo. Our family is full of mediocre wizards, but you’ve got magic to spare,” he ruffles Marvin’s hair, always careful of the mask, and Marvin giggles, pulling out a wrench from behind his Dad’s ear.

In the end, it isn’t even Marvin’s fault. It’s an accident. A fire, started on the lower levels of their apartment building that grows raucous and hot and it licks up the sides of Marvin’s room destroys their home and causes his eyes to water. Marvin tries to make it stop, but his magic only makes the flames go higher, and his mother is screaming.

It’s his Dad who finds him, coughing on smoke but giving Marvin a brave smile.

“And…for my…final trick,” Marvin listens to his Dad speak, wincing at each cough that rattles his Dad’s lungs. “I will make my son…disappear!”

Suddenly, Marvin’s vision is blocked by a black cape, the one he’s seen his Dad wear in pictures, and when he can see, he’s in an alley, far away from the apartment building. He ties the cape around his neck and walks back, remembering the way faintly, but when he gets there the building is burned to the ground.

His parents don’t make it out, and Marvin is alone.

He gets by with magic tricks, performing on street corners for money. People like him because he’s cute, and his tricks are wacky but funny, so he makes enough for a meal a day. He’s lonely though, because he sleeps on street corners and benches, and it’s weird that people care enough to give but not enough to stay.

A man stops by when he’s performing a trick.

“Hey there little guy. Can you show me a trick?” Marvin bounces on his heels and nods with a grin, waving his wand to turn the man’s shirt into another color.

Instead, the shirt disappears completely.

“S-Sorry!” the last time a trick went wrong, he’d had to run because the man started yelling at him, but this man just laughs .

“That was amazing! Where’d you learn to do that?!” Marvin blinks in surprise at the happiness, but he grins.

“My Dad taught me! He taught me everything I know!” he puffs out his chest proudly, showing off his cape. The man’s laughter dies down, and he reaches out to ruffle Marvin’s hair, careful of the mask. He still is somehow unfazed by his lack of a shirt.

“Cool! Say, where is your Dad?” He asks, and Marvin freezes, looking down at the floor and shrugging his shoulders.

“There was a fire,” he mutters, and the man nods with sympathy, simply inclining his head as if to ask for another trick, to which Marvin eagerly obliges.

Eventually, Marvin learns that the man is named Chase, that he has a place where Marvin can stay, if he so chooses, and that he likes Marvin’s magic.

Marvin ends up in a room with someone named Jackieboy.

“Are your parents dead too?” The other kid asks, and Marvin nods. Jackieboy walks over and gives him a hug. “It’s your origin story,” He says, and somehow that makes Marvin feel better.

The child count in Chase’s house comes to two.

Robbie has known zombies since before he can remember. He knows that they shuffle with pale, rotting skin, that they eat human flesh, and that they are anything but human.

His parents have taught him from a young age to shoot, to run, to hide, to steal, and to scavenge. He knows how to start fires with small sticks and he knows how to fire a pistol and blow off a zombie’s head. He knows how dead people look and he knows how zombified people look. His sister was shot because she was bitten. He took the shot, and he can’t say he regrets it.

He does.

Being a child of an apocalypse is hard, because there’s no time for play. Robbie is raised on blood and death and war and he doesn’t trust easy. He sticks to the people he knows, his parents, at the ripe age of seven being jaded and cold in ways that should be sad but are simply necessity in these times.

That doesn’t mean that he hates everyone, rather he keeps his heart locked away and his trust caged like a bird. He wants to trust people, wants to make new friends, but he remembers the bullet lodged in his leg from when he met another camp of people and he knows how an apocalypse changes human decency.

His parents, at the very least, love him. They’re a bit protective, especially since his sister died, but they also know he can hold his own to an extent. That doesn’t stop them from babying him, but still.

Still, survival is survival, and there are moments where you have to choose things.

They’re zooming across the desert on a nearly broken motorbike, with hundreds of zombies on their tail, the horde a shuffling mass of groans and growls and open mouths, and while his Mom and Dad are actually sitting on the bike, Robbie is huddled in the basket on the back. They’ve been slowing down, even with all the stuff they’ve been throwing out to get rid of excess weight.

“We’ve got to find something else to get rid off or we’re all dead!” He cries, watching the horde get closer and closer, and his Mom turns around, nodding her head.

“I love you sweetheart!” She shouts over the roar of the sputtering engine and the groans of the horde, and Robbie blinks in confusion.

“Love you too Mom, but what does that have to do wi-,”

His sentence is cut off when he’s pushed off of the bike.

Oh.

He doesn’t blame his parents, in the few moments he has to think before the horde catches him. He doesn’t hate them, just accepts his fate with the knowledge that he would have doomed all of them should he have stayed.

Then, he hits the horde.

They don’t tear him apart like he expects, rather, they claw at his clothing and give him tiny bites, ones that don’t do anything. There are, of course, the chunk taken from his ear and the large chomp on his shoulder, but after that they leave him to lay and turn on the ground.

It takes hours. Hours laying on the ground, feeling his limbs grow heavy and his eyes glaze over and his skin goes pale and cold and his thoughts turn to mush and his heart stops beating but-

He doesn’t lose himself.

He doesn’t have time to, because when his head starts to melt into mindlessness he falls through the ground and hits a floor that isn’t ground, rather it’s soft like carpet. His eyes spot a portal above him, one that shows the harsh landscape of where he used to be before it closes, leaving a view of a ceiling.

“Marvin, what did you do?” He turns his head slowly, because rigor mortis, and sees two oddly dressed kids that look around his age. The one who speaks is wearing red and is addressing the other who is wearing cat mask, a black cape, and is holding a black stick.

“I-I was trying to summon ice cream!” The kid-Marvin was it?-cries, confused but then excited, rushing over and leaning over Robbie’s face with wide eyes. “Hello friend! What’s your name?”

He manages to murmur “R’bbie,” before speech leaves him completely.

Finding out you’re in an alternate dimension where the zombie apocalypse has never occurred is odd, to say the least. Robbie half expects this all to be a dream, where he’ll blink and find himself shambling towards someone, the pit of hunger in his stomach only satiated when he has their flesh in his mouth.

He ends up in the spare bedroom, and the bed is so soft, and he doesn’t have to get up early or sleep in shifts, and he can eat anything he wants. It’s like a dream come true, almost.

Chase, the more Dad like person, seems to like him, but the Doctor, Schneep, seems worried, and that’s probably because Robbie salivates around people, and when he’s taken in a crowd he has to cross his arms to keep himself from reaching out and grabbing someone because he’s hungry.

The con of being an almost zombie, he supposes.

At one point, Schneep comes in with a plate of red meat, and the scent is intoxicating. Robbie is drooling all over the table by the time the plate reaches him.

“Eat,” he says, and Robbie does, sloppy and messy and fast because it tastes like the most delicious thing ever.

Then he thinks about what it is, and he stops, feeling sick but at the same time feeling satisfied, and that’s the scary part.

“I did not kill anyone for zhe meat, if zhat is vhat you are worried about,” Schneep assures him, talking about organ donors and how it might not technically be legal but they’re already technically dead when he takes out the tissue, so no harm no foul.

Robbie appreciates the care more than he can say, but the quiet smile gets the point across.

He thinks he just might call this place home.

XXXX doesn’t know what to think of his parents, in all honesty.

He lives in a dingy apartment where the wallpaper is peeling off the walls, the carpet is frayed, they have a tv so old it’s in black and white, he listens to music through the radio, most of his dinners are take out or fast food, and the place smells like booze and failed dreams.

His parents argue constantly, but XXXX doesn’t listen to them, even when he hears the sound of skin hitting skin and pained cries from both parties. He managed to snag a gameboy from a classmate-they got a DSi like two days later, so he doesn’t feel guilty-so he spends his days playing that and ignoring the world because it’s easier. That’s not to say he isn’t a kind person, no, he loves playing with the other kids and making friends, but sometimes he has to do some not so great things and deal with some not so great things.

He doesn’t think he’s a bad kid, not really. Sure, he can be a bit cheeky in conversation, but he cleans his room best he can and is polite at dinner and does his work and tries to be nice and good, and he doesn’t flinch when beer bottles smash into walls around him. His parents work hard, he knows, but money is tight because taking care of a kid is hard and expensive. He realizes that his gameboy needs to be charged and that requires power and that costs money so he starts charging it during recess and lunch at school, sapping the power away because his parents pay for school and the school has plenty of money to spare.

He doesn’t notice the way his parents look at him when he isn’t paying attention, the deep seated hatred for a child they never wanted in the first place, he simply does his best to make them happy by cleaning up the broken glass and making them cards for every holiday and trying to love them because when they smile down on him it’s as if someone gave him the sun.

One weekend, they take him out in the car, and he’s so excited that he doesn’t even bring his gameboy; rather he watches the fields and towns fly past with wide, curious eyes because he’s never been in a car this long before, never been so far away from home, never seen his parents this happy because they keep smiling at each other and he just might explode from excitement.

They end up in front of some weird store. It has pentagrams and other symbols in red in front of a black background, and all in all it’s pretty foreboding, but XXXX doesn’t even care, he wants to know what’s inside, what they’re here for, what’s happening, someone’s gotta tell him-

A man in a black cloak comes through the front door, looking down at him with scary eyes, and XXXX is hit by a wave of terror that he isn’t fond of, but his parents don’t seem fazed so he gives the man a kind smile and wave.

“He’s the virgin child?” The man asks his parents, and they both nod.

“Yeah, that’s XXXX, the…uhh…virgin child,” His father looks uncomfortable with the wording, at the very least, and XXXX tilts his head up and to the side in confusion, considering he doesn’t know what virgin means.

“Thirty thousand then?” His mother asks, rather demands actually, and the man pulls out three very large envelopes.

“Yes, ten thousand in each,” he hands her the money, and XXXX’s eyes go wide, because that’s an incredible amount of money! He didn’t even think numbers could go that high! But then, why is his Mom getting so much money in the first place?

“Mom, what’s going on?” he asks politely, and his Mom kneels down to eye level, giving him a smile that feels stretched out.

“Honey, your Dad and I are going out for a while. Listen to this nice man here, okay? We’ll be back soon, I promise,” XXXX has never heard his Mom call him honey before in his life, has never heard her talk to him in such an affectionate way, but the words make his heart feel all funny and he really, really likes it, so he nods if only she’ll smile at him again.

She ruffles his hair, and his father waves him goodbye, before the two of them drive off in the direction of home. XXXX is worried, but only slightly, because his Mom promised she’d be back, and Moms don’t lie, right?

The man ushers him inside, and the room is full of jars of weird stuff and crystals and books and more weird symbols.

“Come along, child,” The man pushes him past the first room and into the back, which is simply an empty room lit by candles with a pentagram in the middle, and XXXX thinks it’s all so cool.

Until it’s not, because he’s being shoved into the middle of said pentagram, and suddenly the man is holding a knife.

He screams, kicking and punching because the man is scary and he wants away he wants out, but a strong knee holds his chest to the ground and his arms and legs are weak, only seven years old and powerless against the cloaked man who only gives him a mad smile.

“Mom! Mommy please help me come back please Mo-!” And his voice is cut in the most literal of senses when the blade of the knife drags across his throat, and hot blood crawls into his mouth as he goes limp on the floor, twitching as the room spins and blurs and all he can hear is the man saying some weird words before the world goes dark.

He opens his eyes in a black void, floating in dead space before a bright green human figure appears out of it nowhere. They have long horns and sharp claws and teeth, with eyes as black as complete darkness, and their expression is one of sick joy before they see him.

“Fucking dammit, a kid?! The caster couldn’t have chosen literally any other example of a virgin?! Seriously?!” Everything hurts, and XXXX doesn’t have time to dissect the weird person’s words as they groan. “I have one line people! One line I don’t cross, and I am Anti-Kid Killing!” The green person sighs, floating over to XXXX with bored eyes. “Look kid, I don’t like this anymore than you do. The guy who cast this spell needed a virgin sacrifice so he could become a demon or whatever, and one of us has to seal the deal. I was around, so I showed up expecting some teenager or an adult who’s just not into sex, and I get you,” XXXX hacks up blood as a response, and the person rolls their eyes best they can considering they have no pupils for a point of reference.

“Okay, so I got a deal for you. I keep you alive, kill the caster and turn you into a demon of sorts, and occasionally I get your body to use. Sound fair?” XXXX isn’t quite sure what’s going on but he wants the pain to stop, wants everything to go away and wants the taste of blood out of his mouth.

As if the weird person can read his mind, they give him an extra push. “C’mon, it’s painless,” the words are said with a crooked smile.

XXXX takes their hand, and the void swallows him whole.

He wakes up with bloody hands holding a knife, and the man is lying dead in front of him. His eyes are gone, laying beside him, and when Anti looks at his wrists he sees a pentagram on each one.

‘Just a little bit of binding symbol, don’t worry about it’ XXXX jumps after hearing the voice come from in his head, and he recognizes it as the guy from earlier. ‘Don’t mind me, I’ll just be around.’

XXXX isn’t sure what to do, but his Mom said she’d be back for him, so he washes himself off and waits, hoping she won’t freak out over the fact that the whites of his eyes have gone black, his teeth have grown sharp, his ears are pointy, and he has a large scar on his neck.

It occurs to him, two days later, that she’s never coming back.

Bitterness tightens his mouth into a scowl when he leaves the building, bandages covering his wrists and the scar on his neck because he doesn’t want people to see, and his heart grows cold because it all clicks into place with painful clarity, the money and the lies and how happy his parents were when they drove to the place and XXXX wants to scream, fury making his vision blurry.

It’s not tears, he swears.

A few weeks pass where he ends up stealing food and water from stores, slipping in because he’s sly and no one notices him, but one day he hears the voice in his head say something like ‘Gotta take the wheel, take a break’ before the world turns black and he wakes up in front of someone else who no longer has eyes, hands bloody as he backs away and runs off into another alleyway.

He sits on the ground and draws with the blood on his hands because he has nothing else to do, but a man in a grey cap spots him.

“Hey kid, are you alri-oh,” And the man sees the knife, so XXXX is on the defensive, backing away with barred teeth and trembling hands.

“G͏o̴ ͟a͟w̷a-,”

“Did they deserve it?”

XXXX stops, tilting his head to the side at the question.

“W̕h̕a̕t?”

“Did the person you killed deserve it?” the man asks, and XXXX shrugs, because he honestly doesn’t know. The man stares at him for a long time, and XXXX is just about to try and sneak away before the man holds out his hand.

“Need a place to stay?” And XXXX is floored by the question.

He nods.

Later that night he is asked for a name, and it is then that he realizes that he cannot recall his name. His memories are fuzzy, and whenever someone calls him by name in their voice is distorted so that it is indecipherable. For a moment he’s worried he’ll have to explain that, but then-

I’m Anti-Kid Killing

He says Anti, and the man, Chase, just smiles.

Suspicious.

He ends up in a room with a guy named Robbie, a zombie it turns out, and Anti laughs because he’s a demon and aren’t they a pair, even with the vice in his chest causing caustic comments to spew from his mouth every other sentence. Jackieboy and Marvin are both interesting and annoying, and Schneep wisely doesn’t trust him.

Chase is…weirdly kind, and Anti doesn’t trust them because people who you trust come back to bite you and adults always trick you can because he won’t let himself be fooled by anyone again.

But this is a house that he lives in now, and it’s, at the very least, not terrible

There are four new, strange children at their house, and the two adults aren’t quite sure what to make of the chaos, of the craziness.

Chase and Schneep work double-time, overtime and have sleepless nights sometimes because money is tight and it’s hard and it’s tiring but-

But the house is full now, at least.

The house is full.

#kids au #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #robbie the zombie #antisepticeye #chase brody #dr. schneeplestein

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yogaadvise · 4 years

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5 Yoga Poses to Promote Calmness During the Holidays

The vacations have lots of exhilaration with preparations and also the anticipation of investing time with enjoyed ones. It's simple to obtain captured up in the "busyness" of it all and also fail to remember to quit and also involve in some sort of self-care task. Next point you know, worry takes a toll and you aren't able to function at your finest due to the fact that your power has been depleted.

Thankfully, there are handy devices readily available to give you the increase you might need-- one of them being the practice of yoga exercise. To help you fully welcome the period with both a sense of peace as well as good power, right here are some simple yoga poses for all levels that you can do anywhere as well as anytime.

As you practice, it's crucial to bear in mind the following to help you get the most benefit:

Move slowly in as well as out of the poses.

Keep your breath smooth as well as even.

Don' t method on a full stomach.

Never stress or pressure on your own beyond your present abilities.

1. Awareness Breath

In yoga exercise, excellent importance is positioned on the usage of breath as a device for makeover as well as is referred to as Prana in Sanskrit, meaning "essential force" or "primordial impulse." Mindful changes of the breath with workouts is called pranayama, and when exercised routinely, you can experience enhancements in both physical as well as psychological states.

The adhering to breathing workout is a basic as well as effective way to begin experiencing the power of the breath and also its capability to produce calm.

Benefits: Enhances quality of breath, silences as well as relaxes the nerves, lowers tension and anxiety, and also raises self-awareness.

Find a comfortable seated placement or lay on your back if that really feels better. Shut your eyes as well as take a minute to observe your breath without judgement.

Is it shallow or deep?

Does it flow quickly or strained?

Where do you feel your breath? Perhaps in the upper body, throat, or abdomen?

After a couple of breaths, place a hand gently on your reduced abdominal areas to aid bring attention right here. On the following breathing, breathe in through your nose, filling the abdomen full with air and feeling it increase like a balloon. Slightly time out on top of the inhalation and afterwards start to exhale gradually out the mouth.

Toward the end of the exhalation, actively involve the abdomen. Envision pulling the stomach button towards the back, getting rid of all the air. A little pause before breathing in again.

Continue for 6 to 12 total breaths.

2. Seated Side Bend Pose (Parsva Sukhasana)

Side-bending presents really feel great on the body and also aid to release stress by extending components of the body you have a tendency to ignore. This variation will be carried out seated to enable much deeper comfort. Incorporated with some deep breaths, this position can bring in some much-needed energy as well as vitality to the body.

Benefits: Increases versatility in the back, aiding with equilibrium. Aids and controls digestion, elimination, as well as metabolic rate. Aids to relax the mind as well as body.

Sitting in a cross-legged setting or Easy Pose, rock side to side a little making sure the rest bones are connected to the floor.

Place the fingertips on the floor according to the hips, elbows slightly bent.

Take a deep breath in and also lengthen the spinal column. Picture a string drawing from the top of your head towards the ceiling. Close your eyes, taking a couple of moments to attach with the breath.

Inhale as well as get to the left arm up as well as above, exhale while leaning toward the. Keep the rest bones firmly grown on the floor, staring upward or downward to the flooring. Utilize the best arm to sustain you any way feels comfortable.

Hold this pose for 30 seconds or 6 to 8 breaths.

Switch sides and repeat.

3. Child's Pose (Balasana)

This relaxing position is a vital addition to any kind of yoga exercise routine. Commonly performed in between difficult yoga postures, Kid's Pose can be a much invited break. It is considered a newbie's pose, however there are lots of benefits, including reminding you exactly how excellent it really feels to take a moment to pause and also relax every when in a while.

Benefits: Lengthens the back as well as gently stretches the hips, upper legs, and ankle joints. Soothes the brain and assists eliminate stress and anxiety and fatigue.

Start on your hands and also knees with the toes touching.

Separate knees a little wider than the hips as well as lower the resting bones towards the heels.

Hinge ahead from the pelvis, reducing the torso right to the thighs as well as rest the forehead on the floor.

Rest elbows, hands, as well as lower arms on the flooring before you.

Direct the breath toward the reduced back and also side ribs. Feel the growth and also release each time you breathe in and exhale.

With each breath, enable the body to sink more deeply right into the floor.

Remain in this position for 4 to 12 breaths.

To launch, place hands beneath the shoulders as well as slowly press upright into a seated position.

Pause and notice how you feel.

Modifications: Since this is a resting present, make certain you are comfy. Here are some modifications if any stress in the neck, shoulders, or hips is experienced.

Rest the forehead on a block or blanket.

Roll up and position a covering behind the knees for additional support.

4. Knee to Chest Pose (Pavanamuktasana)

Also called "wind-relieving pose" for its gas-releasing benefits, this posture assists to move stagnant power from the body. The organs are provided a little bit of a massage therapy that assists to alleviate worry and also tension. Include this in your normal method not only for its gastrointestinal advantages however also for leisure and also peace of mind.

Benefits: Helps with elimination. Launches tension in the lower back and increases flexibility in the hips. Nurtures the rising colon.

Lie on your back with feet together and also arms beside your body.

Inhale and bring the best knee toward your upper body, intertwining the fingers right below the knee.

Begin to attract the knee toward the shoulder, going around the ribcage.

Inhale and remain to attract the knee more detailed to the shoulder. Both shoulders must continue to be linked to the floor.

Hold for 30 secs or 6 to 8 breaths.

Exhale and release the leg back to the ground as well as repeat on the various other side.

Now bring both knees up towards your breast, hands positioned simply below the knees.

Hold for a number of minutes, breathing in and also exhaling. You can move the knees side to side, rubbing the spine.

Release and also feel the difference in your body.

Modifications: To add a little a lot more warm to this present, draw your forehead, nose, or chin towards your knee as you bring it towards the chest for a little abdominal exercise.

5. Reclining Twist Pose (Jathara Parivartanasana)

Performing this present can help obtain rid of psychological tiredness and also bring equilibrium to your mind and body. Reclining poses as a whole have a relaxing effect, and with the included twist in this present, there is an added release of stress and feelings that you might be bring in your body. It is recommended you try flowing from Knee to Chest Present straight right into this twisting pose.

Benefits: Releases tension in the reduced back, opens limited shoulders, raises flexibility in the spine, and also boosts food digestion. Helps to decreases tension, anxiety, and also depression.

Start by resting on your back with both legs expanded on the floor.

Exhale, attract the ideal knee toward your chest, maintaining the rear of the head resting on the floor.

Bring your left hand to the outside of your right knee, maintaining both shoulders linked to the floor.

Exhale, draw the appropriate knee across the body toward the left, permitting the best hip to raise off the mat. The foot touches the flooring or hinges on the inner thigh.

Extend the ideal arm along the flooring to the right or bend the elbow joint at a best angle depending on which really feels a lot more comfortable. Palms encounter up.

Turn your head toward the best arm for a much deeper stretch.

Close your eyes as well as guide the breath toward the hips and reduced back for 30 seconds or 3 to 6 breaths.

Draw the ideal knee back toward your chest and also currently bring both knees towards the chest for a wonderful also stretch.

Repeat on the other side.

Modifications: For additional assistance, position a pillow or blanket underneath your curved knee, which will certainly enable you to breathe and unwind deeply into the pose.

Any time you start to really feel diminished and things get a bit chaotic, take a few mins to do any one of these presents to encourage a feeling of tranquility. You deserve to experience the love, peace, and happiness that comes with this special time of year.

Discover a straightforward, simple and easy form of yoga and also meditation to assist you find tranquility in every moment at Seduction of Spirit, our six-day meditation and yoga exercise resort with Deepak Chopra. Learn More.

#meditation #pranayama #simple yoga poses #yin yoga #yoga #yoga poses

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