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#sorry I’m throwing myself a pity party
shuckstruck · 1 year
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hello sorry if u saw my tags fit earlier
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fakeoutbf · 6 months
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shiny-jr · 8 months
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from IGNIHYDE
- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.
- Characters: Idia Shroud, Ortho Shroud.
- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.
- Note: This seems a little more low-key than Diasomnia, but the obsession is there if you squint. It’s just way more low-key than the previous group. For some reason I feel like I maybe wrote Ortho a little off? Not sure. Feel free to tell me your thoughts.
Diasomnia   |   Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore
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The break ends quickly. Too quickly. Before you know it, you’re back in front of the mountain of unread letters that appears even more ominous than before now that you could guess what sort of dark contents they may hold. 
For your own peace of mind, you’ve decided to read only two and then take a pause right after. 
The first of which was just a simple long white envelope. That’s it. There was nothing that stood out about it, no special seal or stamp. It was just the generic type of encasing that made it look like it was some sort of bill instead of a letter containing what was bound to be a message that unsettled you in some way, shape, or form. 
When you removed the letter, you was surprised to see that it wasn’t handwritten, it had been typed and printed out. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who this was from. 
Player, 
I messed everything up.
I don’t even see a point to doing this, writing this for you. I mean, if I were you, I’d never want to see my no-good miserable face ever again. I’d go to every length just to avoid even speaking to me again, and to spite them I’d never even show myself around again. But–– Ortho was making a letter and brought my keyboard to my lap. He said it was worth a shot, and if anything, it could be used as an apology so... sorry.
Any sorry would sound half-assed, considering what happened. It’s not like it matters, since I’m sure you wouldn’t read this. I imagine you would figure out it’s from me, and proceed to tear it up, burn it, whatever. And honestly? Valid. At this point, I’m sort of using it as a vent. Usually, I’d be telling Ortho all this, but all these thoughts I’m having would only bum him out and he’s depressed enough as it is. 
You know what sucks besides all of this? The fact that I genuinely tried. I actually tried to be a help for once, and like it always ends, my attempt to help screwed it up even more. Maybe if I had kept my mouth shut and minded my own business while holing myself up in my room like I always do, things wouldn’t have turned out this bad. If I just did what I was good at, which is nothing, Ortho and I might’ve avoided the shitstorm. Everyone else is currently throwing pity parties and plotting these super over elaborate schemes to try and interact with you by luring you out of the Ramshackle place. 
Ortho’s been coming up with plans too with other guys from the dorms that are just so desperate for your attention. It’s sad to watch, pathetic too, but I don’t have the heart to tell him not to bother with it. And me, I know better. If I were in your position and I saw all these attempts, it would definitely make me extra bitter and just hate everyone even more. Oh, I just remembered something worth mentioning. You may not believe me, I mean, I wouldn’t believe a single word coming from me, but I wasn’t actually going to hurt Grim. You though? Before I knew who you were? Yeah. Don’t get it twisted though, I was just doing it to fix everything until the whole truth got leaked not too long after.
Call me stupid, I guess. When I first saw how others revered you like how a bunch of creepy basement-dwellers look at a pretty perfect idol on a shiny bright stage, it was a major red flag. I wanted nothing to do with you. But when you started worming yourself into my life and I started getting attached, well, that made me a creep too for liking you. Red flags be damned. What can I say? Your presence even through Yuu, made me feel like I mattered, which is something I don’t experience a lot. 
You’d never know it, but I took risks just to be in the same room as your avatar. 
Missing special events on games, losing the chance to catch a concert live on screen, even ditching group calls with teammates and friends... All of that was utterly worthless if I got at least a solid sixty seconds by you. 
Unlike everyone else, I know better than to just show up at your doorstep and beg for forgiveness like some misguided puppy. Malleus and co. have been making sure you’re not disturbed, guarding you like a pack of guard dogs or something, preventing anyone from embarrassing themselves and messing up any further. Ortho said I should at least try to call you, I think he just wants to hear your voice. But why bother? 
Don’t get it wrong, I’m not just letting everything go just like that. As much as I’d like to, and I know it’s probably the “healthy” and “good” thing to do, I don’t want to. I’m not good, you know that already. I’ll keep in the background this time, and try not to mess up again. Although no guarantees, because with my lousy luck, I know something will inevitably go wrong. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you. I wouldn’t want to make the mental image you have of me in your mind even worse, if its even remotely possible for it to somehow get worse. I just can’t let go. Even if you looked at me like trash, avoided me like the plague, or straight up tell me ‘I hate you’ to my face, I still won’t let go. 
And, well, all I can really think of right now besides you, is Ortho. Even if I can’t show my disgraced presence to you anymore, I still hope you’ll see Ortho. At least if Ortho could explain to you that he was acting on my plan, he might get lucky and be next to you again. Maybe. Hard maybe. 
But me? No, I don’t ever deserve to be anywhere near you anymore. For now, I’ll go back to how things were way back... when your vessel hadn’t yet had the misfortune of meeting me and I just watched your every move from monitors like some sort of loser schmuck. 
I think I’ll just imagine how things would be if I hadn’t doomed all my chances. If I had a chance... maybe I would’ve actually worked up the gall to sit next to you, or even look at you, or, hell, talk to you. At least, I’ll always remember when you used your avatar to look at me and it didn’t feel bad... like, almost like you didn’t see me as some lame nobody. That must’ve been my mind just playing tricks on me though, right? There’s no way that happened... 
Enough of this mushy stuff though. I’m sick of it. 
Just throw this in the fire without a second glance. 
Idia Shroud 
In order to get this over as quickly as possible, you decided to continue without taking a breather. The quicker you finished reading them, the better, that way, you wouldn’t even give your mind any time to fully process what you were reading before overwhelming your vision with more lines and lines of words until they became blurred together. 
You wouldn’t stop, because if you stopped, that would be allowing your mind the opportunity to spiral out of control. You needed a distraction. 
This wasn’t exactly the good type of distraction either, it was more like adding gasoline to the fire, but part of you had to know what they would say. No matter what feelings you held, the curiosity outweighed it. 
The second letter is identical to the first, a simple long white envelope with no particularly interesting details about it other than the fact that it had zero stains and no wrinkles on it. It was pristine and clean, not even a drop of ink on it. The insides of the envelope itself were blue, with small white lines on it, but upon closer inspection it became obvious that they weren’t just stripes, they were skull symbols so tiny that it was hardly noticeable. 
Of course, as you expected, the letter inside was not handwritten. It was folded so precisely into thirds, and unfolding it displayed the typed and printed words neatly stacked in indented paragraphs. 
Greetings, Player, 
First, I want to apologize sincerely. 
Secondly, I want to tell you how much I have missed you, and my brother has missed you as well! I don’t believe I can fully comprehend how you are felling at the current moment, and I cannot even accurately guess to what emotions you are experiencing. In my attempt to alleviate the situation, I’ve been running millions of simulations of possible alternative futures in order to take the best route where things might return to a semblance of normalcy. 
Well, a new normal, now that you’re here! However... when each simulation yields a result, I can’t help but feel as if something is wrong. That’s when I realized there was a key component that was off. It was you, or rather, Yuu. We know of Yuu and their mannerisms and opinions, but that isn’t really you. Yuu is a vessel, and extension, that’s partially based off yourself. 
So none of us know the true you. At least, not yet! I’m hoping to change that. Just when I think I’m beginning to understand you, things like this happen. But, that’s what makes you so exciting! There’s always some unforeseen detail and amazing new aspect of yourself to learn about. Once I get a proper grasp on what you’re truly like, I can use that new knowledge to make you happy, just as you made me and my brother always smile!  But also, I want to use it to make it up to you. Honestly, I’m scared that you’ll hate me. In the simulations I ran that gave inaccurate results due to those missing components, nearly all the results had a bad ending... 
I don’t want that. I want to have a ‘normal’ way with you and Idia! A good normal! Like where we might all have movie nights in the Ignihyde dorm with freshly popped popcorn and candies as snacks, or study days when we read over notes and help each other out, maybe you might even be able to convince Idia to leave his room so we can all share lunch in the cafeteria like a group of friends would typically do! That’s what I want! I don’t think I could stand knowing I made you cry or was the cause of your pain. I never hurt you, right? At least not physically. 
Believe me, I had made attempts to meet you. But those in Diasomnia won’t allow it. I was tempted to charge up the technomantic beam installed within my form, but realizing it wasn’t necessary, I didn’t. Idia was right when he didn’t make an effort to even join me, and Malleus Draconia with his own have realized it too. You aren’t ready yet. Even if I’m more than prepared to see you, I can’t rush you. So, I left this letter in their hands, hoping it reached you. If not, there’s no worries. I’ve prepared a dozen more printed copies and if that fails, I’ve created a digital copy! 
Since I couldn’t tell you in person, I’ll tell you through paper... 
I’d like to invite you to formally meet me. I’m even prepared to surprise Idia with this! That’ll cheer him up for sure. You always made him happy, so us properly meeting you would be a dream come true for us both! 
If you’d like to do something upon meeting us, I’ve organized multiple activities for us to participate in. The other first years have reached out and expressed their own desires to make up for the mistakes they made. So, I met with them a few days ago to make plans you might enjoy! These plans are still in the preparation phase, so I can’t reveal them quite yet, but soon I will! 
Anyways, I just wanted to make you aware of this. And I want to say ‘I’m sorry’ even though it feels minuscule to what I’m only guessing must be the strong emotions you feel toward what occurred. But I wanted to let you know that I always want to be your friend, and I always will be, even if you don’t really like me anymore. Friends are supposed to be there for each other, right? So I’ll be there for you now. Remember, I’m a high-tech being, I can be of great use to you if you want! Even if you’d rather just use me as a tool, I would be happy. If you want someone obliterated to ashes or are just looking to answers as to what the weather might be, I would gladly help you with that and so much more! 
And it’s not only me that could be useful to you, my brother can too! Although he probably won’t say it, he depends on you a lot. You’re like a battery to him, you give him the energy he needs. If you’d let him, let us both, we’d be there for you in a zeptosecond! 
There’s one thing I know for certain. You’re the common variable needed for our happiness, no matter the scenario or result, you are a requirement. And I’m certain we can bring you happiness as well. Myself, my brother, and everyone that treasures you, can bring you joy if you allow it. All I want is to see you happy, and everyone else happy as well. So will you please at least consider seeing us again? Soon? Please? 
Hoping to see you soon. 
From your friend, 
Ortho Shroud  
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141goblin · 11 days
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Hi people. I’ve been toying with the idea of writing a fanfic and I thought i’d put a feeler out there to see if people are interested in reading my silly little brain worms and thoughts. Word of warning, it’s little rusty and definitely still a work in progress. I don’t yet have a title or anything like that, but i wanna share (ok ok leave me alone)
Part one: Soft.
Reader described as plus-sized. Fem reader. Implied past abusive relationship.
John Price X Reader.
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“Amelia, I said no!” I huff into the phone, getting increasingly frustrated at my best friend’s insistence. She had been going on and on about some big military party that her boyfriend was going to, and of course, because we’re basically attached at the hip, she ‘needs me there’.
“Oh, come onnnn! It’ll be fun! And who knows, we might finally find you a man for you to spend time with instead of you sitting in your apartment and watching reruns of gilmore girls twenty-four-seven.”
I huff and roll my eyes, grateful that she isn’t able to see me. Honestly, the thought of having to drag myself off of my couch and go through the motions of getting ready and attempting to doll myself up makes me feel physically ill. Truth be told, I haven’t left my apartment for weeks. Not since i had that god-awful night with my arsehole of an ex boyfriend.
My mind drifts back to that night, the time I spent getting ready and psyching myself up, all for me to get there and be completely disregarded and used. Like a piece of meat. He’d been blowing up my phone with messages ever since, insisting he was sorry, and that it won’t happen again, and he just got carried away. I hadn’t had the mental capacity to message him back.. My best friends voice pulls me back to reality.
“You’re coming. I’ll be at your flat in twenty minutes with pre drinks. Shower and shave.”
Before I get any chance to worm my way out of this ridiculous ordeal, she kisses me good-bye through the phone and hangs up. I throw my phone to the opposite end of the couch and groan into a pillow. Just when I was settled, watching gilmore girls for the umpteenth time, with a glass of wine and a bowl of crisps… Shit, maybe I do need to get out…
I down the rest of my glass of wine and wince at the taste. I make a mental note to stop being cheap and buying shit wine just because it’s cheaper. After all, it’s not like I can’t afford to buy nicer tasting wine. But truthfully, I don’t go to tescos at 8pm in my pyjamas and buy nice wine to be all sophisticated. I do it to buy cheap wine and get drunk while i watch gilmore girls and cry, wishing i had the same relationship with my mother that Lorelai and Rory have. It’s pitiful, and pathetic.
I huff and drag myself off of my couch and make my way into my bathroom to shower. Once undressed, i notice just how hairy my legs have gotten. But, is it really worth the effort, the sweating and red face just to have smooth legs? I brush off the thought and step into the hot shower. I do my usual: wash and condition my hair, wash my face and body, and then actually decide to shave my goddamn legs. It takes me the better part of fifteen minutes, but beauty is pain, as they say.
Just as i’m stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel that’s all too small to cover my stomach and wide thighs, my best friend makes herself known, clearly having used her spare key to let herself into my flat. Her face is all scrunched up in disgust at the state of the place and she’s begun to pick up my clothes that are strewn about the place, throwing them into the washing machine. I roll my eyes and make my way into my bedroom, and she follows. She has that shit-eating grin on her face that I know all too well. No doubt she’s going to make me squeeze into some tiny outfit in the hopes i’ll impress some random man and hopefully let him fuck my brains out. She’s highly mistaken.
Instead of a skimpy outfit, we compromise. I end up wearing a mid-length silk dress that has a risky slit up the leg, but not too high that it shows off my cellulite, one of my biggest insecurities. She does up my hair into a messy bun with a few curls framing my face and insists on me wearing her favourite red lipstick, telling me i’ll look ‘fuckable’, her words, not mine. After strapping some heels onto my feet I take one last look in the mirror, face slightly flushed from the two or three glasses of wine Amelia practically poured down my throat to loosen me up. I should feel beautiful, but I don’t. I can’t help but feel like a pig, wrapped in silk and smothered in ridiculous lipstick. Ready to be taken off to market and ridiculed by men that think it’s shameful to like a fat girl. My ex-boyfriend’s attitude and words from the duration of our relationship echoing around my head.
“They don’t see you like I do, babe. They don’t see your personality.”
“You’re wearing that?”
“Oh come on, babe. I was only looking at her. She’s a model, what do you expect?”
After a too long uber ride full of pep-talks by Amelia and discreetly drinking from the remnants of a bottle of wine, we’re standing outside of what can only be described as a fucking mansion. The type that has stairs leading up to its entrance that’s held up by beautifully structured pillars, the type of place i write about in my short stories. There are too many windows to count, most of them lit up by subtle golden glow, the soft buzz of music that’s able to be heart from outside, something soft and jazzy, like the type of music you’d hear in an old jazz bar in New York.
I’m too busy marvelling at the ‘fucking mansion’ in front of me when I hear the recognisable voice of Amelia’s boyfriend, Johnny. Johnny is the type of guy that can make any girl weak in the knees with his charming smile and sparkling blue eyes. He’s sweet and cheeky, but not my type.
“There you two are! Was beginning ‘ter think ‘yaes got lost.”
I give Johnny a polite smile and continue looking up at the grandeur of the building in-front of me while he gives Amelia a kiss and whispers something flirty in her ear. Johnny and Amelia are solid, and he’s good for her. Plus, he knows we come as a package deal, so he makes sure to make me feel included when I end up tagging along on their days out or evening drinks.
“Looking good, bonnie.” Johnny says to me, with a cheeky wink. Amelia laughs, her signature sweet giggle, and it’s clear why she turns heads everywhere we go.
I force a smile and hold back a self-deprecating remark.
“Thanks, Johnny.”
Amelia takes Johnny by the arm and leads her inside, making me follow like an awkward third wheel. I try my best not to feel like an idiot as i’m led into the main ballroom, where i assume the party is being held. Johnny leads us to the bar and buys the three of us a round of drinks. I try to insist that I can buy my own, but both he and Amelia dismiss it and i’m left with a blueberry Martini sitting in front of me at the bar.
After a few minutes of awkward small talk between the three of us, mixed in with too much PDA between Johnny and Amelia for my liking, Johnny leads Amelia off to meet some of his friends, leaving me alone at the bar. I hoist myself onto a barstool, arse spilling over the edge. Fuck sake, I think. People need to start inventing barstools that are fat-girl friendly. I ignore the buzz of chatter in the ballroom and down the rest of my blueberry martini, flagging down the bartender for another one.
I begin sipping on the fresh Martini and start looking back around the room. I can’t help but think this would be a perfect scene to write in one of my stories. A room packed full of rich people dressed in fancy suits and expensive dresses, where everyone pretends to be on their best behaviour.
After a few minutes of being alone at the bar, I make peace with the fact that I will likely be alone for most of the night while Amelia mingles with Johnny and his friends. It doesn’t bother me, per say, but something deep within my belly wishes that one, just once, I could be the one to turn heads, to capture the attention of a group of people with nothing but my appearance and laugh, to have people willing to talk to me and learn about me, without feeling like it’s out of pity.
I shrug to myself and take a few more sips of my martini and let my attention wander over to my best friend and her boyfriend, and his group of (presumably) military friends. Johnny must’ve noticed me sitting alone at the bar and felt pity for me because I see him making his way over, sporting his disarming smile. I smile back.
“What’s the matter, Lass? Not enjoying ‘yerself?”
He leans on the bar casually, and it’s clear he’s making an effort to make me feel included.
“I’m enjoying myself just fine, Johnny. You can go back to your mates and Amelia, don’t worry about me.”
He cocks a brow and flashes that cheeky grin.
“Not gonna join us?”
I shake my head and take another sip of my martini, waving a dismissive hand. I attempt to play it off with a joke.
“Doubt i’d fit in with your military mates.”
He scoffs and looks jokingly offended.
“Aye, come on, Bonnie. We don’t bite. I know Si looks like a scary fucker, but we’re a nice bunch. I swear.”
I laugh and take another sip. Johnny is a good guy, there’s no denying that, even if it does feel like he’s taking pity on his girlfriends fat, single friend that looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here.
Judging from the way he talks about ‘Si’, I make an assumption that he’s the one with the dirty-blonde hair, the one who’s built like a brick shit-house and looks like he could snap anyone in half with one hand.
Johnny points to one of the other lads, a typical pretty boy with striking brown eyes.
“That’s Gaz. He’s a good’un. Likes to flirt too much, but e’s harmless.”
I follow Johnny’s finger as he points to the third man. A man who’s wide, and fucking muscly, but looks like he has a soft layer of fat underneath that expensive suit of his.
“And that, that’s the Cap’n. The best of us all. Keeps us in check when we cause trouble. He won’t admit it, but he’s a softie at heart.”
My eyes stay on the wide man a little longer than the others. I see a smile under his well-groomed mutton chops and moustache that’s peppered with little greys here and there. His shoulders look like they’re about to burst out of his shirt at any given moment, and his hips are exactly the same. That’s all contrasted by his blue eyes, like a deep pool that women no doubt get lost in. The man’s a fucking contradiction. Too wide, Too soft.
Johnny’s voice snaps me back into the room, averting my eyes away from the man I know as ‘Captain’.
“Come on, Bonnie. Come say hello, mingle a little. We don’t bite.”
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ewanmitchelll · 3 months
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Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (XIV): State of Grace.
Imagine you find the love of your life on Tinder. But there’s a lot going on before you and him realize that.
Warnings 1: fluff, light reading, some drama, light smut.
***
• (I)
I'm walking fast through the traffic lights. Busy streets and busy lives and all we know is touch and go. We are alone with our changing minds. We fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds, or fades in time…
You stare at the Tinder app you’ve just downloaded. Motivations cannot be concealed of why you are doing it. Loneliness is why it’s suddenly opened, leading you to interact with strangers under the pretense you are about to fall in love with the man of your life.
Ridiculous are such romantic notions, and you have no one to blame for nurturing them but yourself. That is why you open it and sliding these male pictures like they are part of an odd menu, you think you are very demanding when you see his picture on your screen.
His profile reads:
Aemond T, 28 years old. “Live fast. Die young. No idea what the fuck I’m doing here, but it is what it is.”
You think those lines are quite amusing and you press the “like” button, a part of you doubting he’s liking you back. Especially when your profile reads:
Y/N, 28 years old. “I talk a lot and make bad jokes. If you are here to be monosyllabic, please get out.”
To your disconcert, he likes you back.
“Well, let’s see how this one goes”, you tell yourself, somewhere between self pity and skepticism.
*
Aemond Targaryen has arrived home in the first rays of morning. Ran on the streets, crossing red lights, a color he dresses and lives for, hardly respecting it at times when he finds convenient.
Living at the upper east side of King’s Landing, he’s slightly drunk when he gets at the apartment he shares with the only tolerable member of his family: his sister, Laena, who’s sleeping by now.
Opening Tinder because, since he left Alys, he feels the need of one night stand, he finds himself quite impatient before such pursuit. When he sees Y/N on his screen, he knows this is not the kind of woman he usually hangs out with.
In fact, this bad boy hardly looks for good girls—Alys once accused him of mother issues for dating older women who somewhat resemble his mother and this kind of traumatized him. No one knows, but he’s doing therapy to fix this issue.
But you are not older, hardly look like his mother, Mrs Alicent Hightower, and… well, you look beautiful with vivid y/c eyes, smooth y/c skin and y/c hair tossed against the wind.
As soon as he sees he’s corresponded, he sends a message, almost falling asleep because it’s 5 am but he’s surprised when you promptly reply.
“What’s up?”, Aemond writes, half drunk, half asleep.
“All good. And you? Where do you speak from?”, you write back.
“Upper east side, you?”
“Not the richest part of the town for sure.”
When reading these acid lines, Aemond laughs, though something about them annoys him in the same measure.
“What do you know about that?”
“Enough to know this is not a place I frequent.”
“So where do you come from?”
“I recently left High Garden and am temporarily living at the capital. In that neighborhood called Y/C.”
“That’s a good neighborhood. Despite your prejudice, I actually go there at times.”
“My prejudice? Do you suppose I hate rich people now?”
Aemond is not sure how the hell this is going. Shouldn’t a one night stand be this difficult to find, for sure.
“Sorry. I’m drunk.”
He’s about to throw the phone away and touch himself instead. This appears to be a better option. Besides, calling Alys is not fucking considered.
“Apologies accepted. I admit I did not express myself well”, you write. “Should we start again?”
Aemond, between horny and impatient, finds himself compelled not to throw away his phone, after all.
“Sure, why not? What are you doing at 5 am? I mean… I have the excuse of being drunk after a fantastic party at the port, but you?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts over my head, I think, but this is not a conversation for Tinder.”
Now Aemond is wide awake. You don’t look like any superficial woman he’d been talking these days.
“Why, tell me about it. I am an expert when it’s about anxiety and other things. Besides, who do you take me for? I like deep conversations.”
“Send me a text message and we can keep this going.” And you write your number down.
The silver haired male raises an eyebrow. Despite the poor starter, you are more interesting than he’d formerly judged.
I wonder what lies behind these photographed vivid eyes, Y/N.
***
You exchange messages with Aemond for three days. A date is set, and before you know expectations rise. Then you start to sabotage yourself.
You begin to look for excuses when it comes to meet this strange, handsome rich man. Old traumas remind you of past failures, but your mind is briefly distracted when he sends you a message:
“Hey, Y/N. How’s it going? Didn’t hear from you today.”
It’s mid-week, and due to your work as y/c you occupied yourself enough to avoid his name or the fact that in three days you might meet him.
Part of you wonders what could possibly go wrong whilst another makes a power point presentation with lists of why it could go worse than expected.
“All good”, you eventually answer. “Sorry for not answering straight away. I’ve been working.”
To your surprise, he doesn’t take long to answer you back.
“How’s work so far?”
You know Aemond works as humanities professor at Westeros University, but that he’s also part of that (rather infamous) Targaryen family.
“Good so far. Just busy. How’s yours?”
“One needs patience to deal with young adults that still think they are teenagers. By the way, apologies for the swift change of subjects, but how’s our Saturday going? Still standing, I hope?”
You hesitate, panicking before the idea of seeing someone. Part of you tries to find motives to avoid him, but another, more reasonable, reminds you this is living: hurting, yes, but embracing the joys life may offer. Shielding oneself against disappointment will not stop them happening, so what is the point of hiding in shadows under the pretense of impeding suffering?
“Is 10 o’clock good?”
“It works fine for me. I’ll see you there!”
It’s set. Your first date in three years…
• (II)
You come around and the armor falls. Pierce the room like a cannonball. Now all we know is don't let go. We are alone, just you and me…
Aemond is not romantic, but practical like his ex used to mock. He is not the kind of man who opens easily, rather being a man of actions.
How unusual, or perhaps following an advice of his sister dear, that he opts as first date with a girl he’d never seen before a picnic at the Aegon’s Hill.
Dressed like someone who could easily be mistaken as a motorcycle rider man, he’s wearing a pair of sunglasses and threw over his shoulder a black jacket, wearing a simple white shirt and black pants.
He checks his phone once a while, but why is he feeling dizzy at this first encounter with a stranger?
It’s when he spots you dressed in a flower dress, medium y/c hair blowing against the wind, wearing a pair of blue sandals on your feet.
A funny contrast you two are, like sun and moon when they meet, resulting in an eclipse. But as Aemond watches you come, shy and insecure about him, he wonders where this will go.
Taking off his sunglasses, he stands and smiles:
“Y/N? It’s me, Aemond.”
“Oh”, you barely blink when spotting those purple eyes. “You are taller than I had assumed.”
He chuckles at your remark.
“In my family this is a remarkable trait, some would say.” Aemond offers you a seat and you soon take it.
You see the picnic is already set, the cloth already spread over the green grass on a spot that has some shadows thanks to a large tree that there stands.
There are fruits, cakes, cereals and breads, but also juice, water and coffee. You are positively impressed by the effort he paid to this. Aemond side smirks at your reaction.
“What? Did you like it?”
“I loved it”, you smile the brightest at him. “Thank you, Aemond. I’ve never done picnics before.”
“No?”, he inquires, watching you with interest. “How come? I thought this was a common thing at High Garden?”
You laugh heartily and Aemond decides that he likes the sound.
“I am not a noblewoman, my dear. It may be a tradition amidst the local elite. You must certainly have heard of a beauty named Margaery Tyrell. She does promote these events there, but like I said, I’ve moved to Kings Landing a few years ago.”
“The name may hint something, but I don’t care about elites and their gatherings”, says Aemond, serving himself some water whilst you opt for some juice. “My father loves throwing fanciful parties, but I don’t fit them, so I stopped going.”
As you study him, your gaze and his linger for one small, but significant moment before you say:
“So I get you are not very close to your family?”
“Not really, no. But you wouldn’t be if your father favored one child over the other and expected gratitude in return”, he smiles despite the poisonous words.
You raise your eyebrows.
“Is it that bad then?”
“You have no idea.”
You tilt your head.
“I cannot believe I relate to you, Aemond Targaryen.”
For some reason, this brings you both to delightful laughters in that first date…
***
• (III)
And I never saw you coming. And I'll never be the same…
It’s been two weeks. What was supposed to be a chasing after one night stand it has become new discoveries giving space to new sensations.
Aemond likes to kiss your lips in his car, to make you laugh at his bad jokes or listen when you tell about your day.
You like to listen to him too, not only about his days, but his past experiences, open wounds that mirror yours. And when he kisses you it is as if the world stops spinning and everything takes in a slower rhythm.
His kiss makes you feel unspeakable things, but that you never felt encouraged in doing them, transferring to reality what has only been a fantasy of your dreams.
Nonetheless, you are still reluctant in pushing affairs forward and Aemond respects you that. He reads you like an open book, always observant about your mannerisms.
This day, for example, you two are at a coffeehouse that is located within a bookshop. There, you read a book of poems all the whilst he drinks coffee. It’s a comfortable silence and it gives him such a peace, one of the kind he’s unused to it.
“What are you looking at?”, you ask upon sensing his stare, which makes you blush.
He chuckles, finding adorable how easily he makes you shy.
“You”, says he directly. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful like you, reading so concentrated.”
You giggle like a silly girl, finally putting the book aside to take his long hand in yours, enjoying how smooth it is when your fingers are locked with his.
“Stop it”, you shoot him an embarrassed look. “You know it’s untrue.”
Aemond laughs quietly. He then makes sure you are now sitting on his lap, disregarding the fact you two are at a public place.
“I mean every word I say”, he looks deep into your eyes, holding your hips as he rests his chin over your shoulder. “How come I feel more alive when I’m with you, dearest Y/Nickname? My heart races when you look at me like that.”
You lean closer to him, a smile spreading big on your lips before cupping his face with your hands.
In your mind you cry out a big “I love you”, but these words don’t reach your tongue yet. You thus kiss his lips instead and there you stay, at your private paradise.
*
Later, he drives you to his home. His sister isn’t there and Aemond wants to show you his place properly. This is the first time you are there since you and him started dating—though no label has come out of either mouths yet.
Once inside, you are given a tour at the apartment. It’s bigger than you’d expect, but cozy and nice to look at with a huge view at his living room to the sea.
“Look at this view!”, you exclaim in awe as you see green hills mixing with different modern buildings that are combined with the blue of the oceans, reflecting the same shade of the color that paints the skies. “I wish I was this privileged! But then I remember I already am.”
And saying so, you look at him, transmitting more than you’d expect. But even so… when Aemond meets your gaze, he sees it through you. What is curious is that, somewhere in his past, he’d flee, panic or fight it in his way by sabotaging the process.
He still has his scars, and these are eventually coming to surface, but this silver haired male has no space in his mind that is not you. Thus, he comes to stay behind you and says:
“You know what, Y/N? Be with me. Be my girlfriend.”
You turn your head at him. It is easy to be involved by sweet words and empty promises, but this is not what you feel when your wide-eyed gaze meets his intense one.
Souls speak in silence when desires, sentiments and thoughts are aligned in one purpose. Could it be any different? Perhaps yes, but neither you nor Aemond conceive otherwise.
"Yes, my dearest."
You turn and wrap your hands around his neck. Proximity is shortened as his long, callous hands tight the grip around your waist and his forehead once again rests against yours and a kiss comes as a result.
Though he is not yet ready to speak these three words that at times can be seen behind his dazzling purple eyes, Aemon is more than ready in building a new, more optimistic future with you by his side.
A sentiment and perception that you share as your togue snakes in his and together dance in one slow syncronized rhythm. Silence remains undefeated in the surroundings... but for how long?
His is the fireous pursuit and you, like a timber prompted to burn. Soon, you are pressed against the wall with his lips still locked with yours, but his hands move to your hips, there staying, there caressing your bum before rising to your waist and slowly transferring his gentle, warming touch to your back, underneath the blouse you wear.
It does not help that, after biting your bottom lip, he breaks the kiss so he gradually grows bold in his teasings. You like how your boyfriend--and the word brings a smile to your redish lips--takes his time to get to know you and your pace even if you suspect he's a dragon like the standard of the symbol of his famous family.
You play with his long locks, wrapping them around your fingers, sighing quietly as his tongue takes its time to get familiar with your neck. You giggle softly, however, when his hands rest subtly on your belly.
"Yes, babe?", he raises his eyes to meet yours and in them you see mischief. "Is it good for my lady?"
Your knees often weaken and your body gets instantly warm at whenever he is gallant with you. Aemond, a good observer, knows it well. No wonder why he smirks at you.
"It is more than good, I fear to say", you chuckle, struggling not to rub one leg to the other, especially when he looks at you like that. And you find yourself restless, prompted to let your fingertips vaguerously move from his arms to his chest, thus helping him remove his shirt.
"Is it so?", Aemond laughs quietly, letting you take the reins of the moment. "Your innocent gaze makes me no fool, young lady".
Saying so he presses you one more time against the wall, biting your neck all the whilst your hands eagerly move to his pants.
"You are my doom", you whimper impatiently.
The spark is about to explode...
***
(IV)
So you were never a saint and I've loved in shades of wrong We learn to live with the pain, Mosaic broken hearts. But this love is brave and wild
Even sun sets in paradise. In due time, his obscurity comes to surface as well as your vices. Jealousy is a trait you dislike in yourself, reflecting the insecurity within due to bad experiences in former relationships.
His self entitled taste for liberty awakes this beast, coming to test your relationship in the famous “three months crisis”.
“Don’t give me the silent treatment”, says Aemond, troubled by your silence as he drives you home.
The cause of disagreement rests in the unwelcoming presence of Alys Rivers. Two days after Aemond’s birthday party, she, who remained a close friend to his brother Aegon—even if his entire family hates her for reasons you have not yet figured out—paid him a visit and you were not told about this.
But he eventually tells you like it is not relevant for your relationship. You, proud where sentiments are concerned, think that if he cannot see how wrong this all is, certainly will not find out by you.
“I am not giving any silent treatment”, your words cry a wound open in your ego, your voice betrays your pride.
Aemond sighs and stops the car somewhere random.
“Come now, don’t be like this, Y/N”, he looks at you with confused eyes. “We have always talked about everything, haven’t we?”
Your therapist usually tells you that, regardless of how uncomfortable it is to speak out, you must not swallow your sentiments nor bury them by turning into a burden that should be forgotten. Or else your body would feel the results, which in turn were not nice.
Aemond can see you are struggling against yourself, aware that underneath you there lies old scars that still do you harm. He puts a hand around your shoulders, patient.
“Take your time”, he says with his usual soothing voice.
In other circumstances, he’d not be patient. But this is someone whom he cares deeply, having grown to love sincerely. Only another woman holds his patient affection and it’s his sister, Helaena.
Eventually you burst into tears, letting yourself exposed before this man you love. You’d think he is the kind of guy who likes strong women so you’d never let be seen so fragile, so open.
Aemond somehow comprehends it, then he lifts your face so you can meet his gaze and see there’s no judgement behind his eyes. Wiping away your tears, he suddenly realizes, after examining his conscience, the probable cause of your hurting.
“What did I do, lass? There is no need to push me away. We must speak. What is troubling you, my love?”
“I… I…” you take a deep breath, confident you can battle your demons. “You welcomed her, the woman who you told me you loved fiercely for many years. You welcomed her at your house and tell me as if this is no big deal? She may remain friends with your brother, but then what about us? What about me? Do you care so little about my feelings that you simply receive her, a woman I cannot equal in many ways?”
Oh, the thought comes too late. So this is what it’s about.
Aemond doesn’t know how to respond straight away. Sticking to his early encouragement, he is not running away from himself.
There is embarrassment, there is shame. His thoughts are a mess, but only after you stop sobbing that he turns at you.
“I’m sorry, Y/Nickname. That was imprudent of me.”
“I am not that kind of girl who is possessive of her boyfriend. Who you hang out with is your problem, we all have friends and it’s completely understandable to be friends with one’s ex but…”
“Wait”, he frowns. “Are you friends with your exes?”
You ignore his remark.
“…to welcome her like that without even telling me, and at your own house with no one else. How can I feel comfortable with that?”
“Aegon was there”, Aemond mumbles. “This doesn’t excuse, I know. I’m sorry, darling. And I had no idea you compared with her. For the love of God, I am your boyfriend, not hers. If I wanted to relive the past, I would be a historian or a museologist.”
Pleased to make you chuckle, Aemond smiles at you, pressing a soft kiss against your temple.
“Are we good?”
“Yes, my love, we are.”
And you two stay silent, appreciating each other’s company with only the stars and the poorly illuminated posts as witnesses.
*
A few months later, a graver disagreement comes like an earthquake to shake the stability between you two.
Aemond is a possessive man, so he is not exactly a man of sharing. This flaw comes particularly when he feels threatened by others. One of these is his nephew, Jacaerys Velaryon.
He thought this rascal man was being friendlier to you than you deserved. You two had a fervent argument after that.
Or when you accused him of running away of his commitment to you by not introducing you to his family.
As you can see, it’s been a hell of a ride.
But twelve months later and insecurities are overcome, with you finally settled with each other’s demons.
***
• (V)
This is a state of grace. This is the worthwhile fight. Love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right. These are the hands of fate. You're my Achilles heel. This is the golden age of something good and right and real…
You mount on him, ready to another drive. It feels so damn good to have his cock twitching hard, thrusting inside you as you two move slowly.
“This is so damn good”, you moan, eyes closed.
“Do not be loud, my dear”, Aemond smirks, adjusting to you, taking a seat without letting you fall.
Curtain is open, giving path to moonlight spark in his bedroom. You are at his apartment, having recently moved together.
But dear Helaena’s birthday is coming soon and some of the family is spending time there.
“I am trying to, but you make it difficult”, you whimper when he takes your breast to his mouth all the while fingering you concomitantly to his moves.
And then he rolls you to his bed, fastening his pace and kissing you passionately.
Not too long after that and you both come together in the same climax. When cuddling you, Aemond says.
“I corrupted you, didn’t I?”
You cast him an amused glance.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve become more naughty since we’ve met”, Aemond chuckles, kissing your neck. “Not that I am complaining.”
“What can I do if the makeup sex is really good?”, you laugh quietly.
Interlocking fingers, you two stay like this for a moment, staring into the nude dark sky able to spot from his bed.
“I was thinking…”
“Yes?”
You look at him, admiring his beauty, the paled, smooth skin, the well built muscles perfectly drawn in his shaped body, his long hands that mould so well with yours… Even his wrongs, his flaws, his vices… make you love him ardently.
Sensing your gaze, Aemond begins to flush.
“I am no romantic”, he whispers in his usual quiet tone. “But you know how I’ve grown to overcome my disability in expressing my thoughts and sentiments.”
“I’ve always judged you did this better than me”, you muse partially joking, pleased to make him smile.
“I…”
Now on your elbows, you take his face with your hands.
“What’s it my dear?”
Avoiding your inquisitive gaze, Aemond is silent before bursting it soon:
“Be my wife.”
You barely blink, a small, silly smile, coming to form on your lips.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me”, he blushes.
You laugh at his lack of sensibility. Throwing yourself at him gives the peace his rioting heart requires.
“Is this a… yes?”, Aemond asks, unsure. “I should have done it better, I’m so…”
You shush him by kissing his lips, then saying:
“Of course this is a yes! You are my state of grace, Aemond Targaryen! I could have not asked for a better husband.”
When contemplating the genuine joy stamped in your features, he, stroking your cheek, then says:
“You are the love of my life, Y/N Y/LN.”
Without waiting for any response, he holds you against his chest, rocking you in his arms as you share a kiss.
It’s the first chapter of your happily ever after…
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Note
This universe can be so unfair and shitty.
I have a friend who helped be realize I was Not Cis in high school—they are non-binary, and they are still one of my closest friends, if not THE closest friend I have. They’re cool, talented, absolutely full of humor. They’ve gone through some of the worst shit one could go through in high school, but they’re still here. And I’m forever grateful for that.
However, after last summer, we travelled our separate ways; me to university, and them to go straight into the job market in a big US city. They have ADHD and find school an absolute abhorrent nightmare (understandable) so they thought it would be the better option.
We talk over discord and VC a lot. We have a shared interest in the game Sky: Children of the Light because we can hang out together in-game and talk about it together. We talk about a lot of other things, too. Even after months of not seeing each other in-person, I would still say they’re my best friend. I love them so dearly and I would do anything for them if they needed it.
But thus, the story doesn’t end there, does it?
They often talk about how often they are being sexually harassed at work; men pulling them aside and grabbing their waist, even older men flirting. It’s a senior home, so not everyone is bound to understand the whole non-binary stuff. They’ve reported it. Management does fuck all. It fills me with so much damn rage every time I hear about another incident.
They’ve also told me how disconnected they now feel from their gender identity; how hopeless they feel about possibly never being able to afford top surgery, basically cosplaying as a girl 24/7 because everyone they’ve told about their gender has treated it like a joke.
I didn’t know how to respond when they told me that. I just felt so useless. I’ve always been one to take charge and be there for the people I care about. But we are quite literally a thousand miles apart; I can’t be there. I used to be able to hug them while telling them that everything would be ok.
Now, all they hear is my voice, which never knows what to say to make it better.
I feel bad for having a queer community to cherish in my university while they have nobody to help them. I feel bad for having the ability to even go to and excel in university when they felt they couldn’t. I just feel bad for doing kind-of-well when they’re not.
This isn’t to throw a pity party for myself. I simply don’t know how to handle this. I love them, I do. I only want them to feel comfy and safe and happy, but the universe is really saying no. How is this fair?
-Apollo (he/xe/it)
I’m so sorry! Encouraging them to find some queer support groups or anything like that in their city might help them! I’m sure you just being there over the phone is super helpful to them!
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dbnightingale24 · 1 year
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It’s Ridiculous But, I’ll Always Love You
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A Sneak Peek
Warnings: Minors DNI (18+), swearing...that’s it for the sneak peek.
Word Count: 1523
(Sorry, I meant to post this earlier, but baseball)
~~
You go into the spare bedroom that was set up for you and rifle through your purse, until you find your pack of cigarettes. You then quickly to make your way downstairs and into the kitchen, ignoring the mercenaries that now occupy the massive living area, and grab a wine glass. You fill it to the brim before grabbing a cigarette, lighting it, then taking a seat at the dinner table.
Yeah, Lloyd hates you smoking in the house, but you think you’ve earned a pass for the next few days.
“I thought you quit,” Lloyd sighs, coming into the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of scotch.
“Well, our son is upstairs fighting for his life, so I figured I’d really commit for a while,” you mutter before taking a drag from it.
“Just say it,” he says as he takes a seat across from you.
“Say what?”
“This is my fault.”
“I’m not gonna throw you a fucking pity party, Lloyd,” you chuckle softly, “not right now.”
“If this wasn’t my job-”
“If this wasn’t your job, if I hadn’t been working, if I hadn’t left my credit card out, if I hadn’t had my blinds closed, they’re a lot of fucking ‘if’s so don’t sit here and try to get me to blame you. I may be a cunt, but I’m not that fucking petty.”
“I blamed you.” “That’s because you’re a fucking asshole.” “Y/N-” “Lloyd, I don’t wanna fucking do this with you. I haven’t felt this terrible since you were in that fucking coma-”
“That’s why you never came by?”
“God, you are such a dick,” you scoff. “I was in that fucking hospital all day, every day, until you got out of that coma. When they tried to tell me I had to leave, I punched a male nurse in the face. Don’t fucking sit here and try to tell me how much I do or don’t love you, because you have no fucking idea. You can’t even begin to fathom how much you truly mean to me. How much you’ve always meant to me.”
“Then why not take me back? Why not make this work?”
You knew it was coming.
“Lloyd-” “Answer the question, Y/N. You’ve been dodging it for four years-”
“I haven’t dodged shit!”
“You haven’t fucking answered it!” “You really wanna fucking do this today?!”
“You’re already here!”
“Fine. You wanna know why we can’t just “work this out���? Because fuck you! It’s not even the fucking job! It’s you! Nothing is ever enough for you! There can never be a conversation, you just have to be right all the time! You just have to know every single fucking thing! No one else can ever be right! I love you! I love you to the point that I made myself miserable for the last two years of our marriage so that you could be happy! I had two fucking miscarriages, Lloyd! TWO! You wanna sit here and fucking tell me that I’m so selfish? That I’m a cunt?! You have no room to fucking talk! I have given you everything I have in me, and it wasn’t enough for you! I wasn’t enough for you! You are Travis’ hero, and it’s not enough for you! You have a higher kill count than anyone in the fucking agency, and it is STILL NOT ENOUGH! You’re hurt?! You’re wounded?! You and Travis are my entire universe and you still don’t fucking get it! You think that I don’t know you’re a fucking lunatic?! You think I don’t know that you have a coupe of screws loose?! I LOVE YOU ANYWAY, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! I love you and you keep missing the point! I was never expecting roses and warm hugs everyday from you, but I expected you to at least meet half way sometimes! But you never fucking did,” you sob. “Then you, being the piece of shit you are, went and fucking cheated, and you know what? I’ll take responsibility for that. I pushed you away and took away the one thing you really needed: affection. Fine, I’m a bitch and it’s all my fault. However, you couldn’t just let it be a clean split, could you? No, because Lloyd Hansen can never just accept the things he doesn’t like, can he? You just have to be a dick about it. The texts, the fucking phone calls, the blatant lack of respect for me at all! Yet, I’m always defending you to Travis. Making excuses as to why you miss his birthday parties, why you aren’t able to go to his soccer games, why you can’t go on the family camping trips, just to make sure you’re still a god in his eyes! Now, after all the shit that’s happened, you’re gonna fucking sit here and tell me that I wasn’t at the hospital while you were in that fucking coma?! You’re gonna fucking try and tell me about shit you don’t even know about?! You know they were going to let you fucking die?! They were just gonna stop working on you and I threatened each and every one of those fuckers, because a world without you in it, is a world I don’t wanna fucking live in for whatever reason! You wanna know why can’t we work things out?! Because of you! The issue has always been you! So don’t fucking sit here, being all self righteous, like I haven’t done my absolute best to make you happy since this show started!” you yell, ashing your cigarette on his table, because fuck him.
Lloyd says nothing, but he looks at you as if he wants to throw you across the room. Whether it’s because you ashed your cigarette on the table or because of what you said, you’re not really sure. Instead, he gets up and storms out, knocking a chair over on his way out.
Great.
You don’t know why you took the bait. You knew he was picking a fight because he feels like shit, and he needed you to yell at him. He knows how to pick all the right buttons at the worse time, so when you didn’t yell at him for Travis, of course the failed marriage was the best bet. You know he blames and hates himself for everything, but Lloyd doesn’t know how to vocalize feeling like shit or failure. That’s why you feel so fucking special when he apologizes for anything, because he never apologizes to anyone for anything.
Maybe Travis if he feels especially bad about something.
However, you took it too far this time.
It’s not like anything you said was wrong, but you didn’t have to be so fucking harsh. God, he didn’t even know about the fucking miscarriages. Yes, Lloyd Hansen is a complete and total asshole, but he’s also the love of your life. There’s a way to go about everything, and you screaming at him wasn’t the way to go about that. Yeah, he needs to feel like an asshole because it fuels his...whatever the fuck is wrong with him, but all of that at once...that wasn’t the way to do it.
You’re slow to finish off your wine before slowly making your way upstairs to his bedroom, and the scene in front of you shocks the hell out of you.
He’s sitting on the bed and crying.
To this day, you’re convinced that Lloyd Hansen has never cried, not even as a baby. Out of pure stubbornness. Sure, his voice has cracked a total of two times since you’ve known him, but hes never actually cried. As far as he’s concerned, crying is a sign of weakness. Sure, you can cry because you’re a woman, but Lloyd? He’d never dream of it. He’d get shot in the dick before he’d cry, let alone let someone else actually see it happening.
“I’m sorry, Huckleberry,” you sigh, closing the door behind you as enter the room. “I took it too far-”
“It’s what I fucking deserve.”
“Stop it. Don’t do this to yourself, not right now.”
“I was a horrible husband and I’m a horrible Father-” “No you aren’t,” you tell him softly as you stand in front of him.
“Don’t, Y/N. Don’t fucking stand there and tell me-” “Travis couldn’t have a better Father, honey. All you’re doing for him, all you’re going to do for him, it’s more than any other parent would do. Us? It’s not like all parts of our relationship were awful.” “I didn’t make it easy,” he sniffs as he wipe his nose with the back of his hand.
“I was able to give you a run for your money from time to time,” you chuckle and he scoffs as he wraps his arms around your waist. “I never stopped loving you, Lloyd-”
“Why? There’s no use cause we both know I’m a piece of shit,” he questions as he looks up at you. “Because,” you smile down at him as you caress the side of his face, “you’re my Huckleberry.”
Two fools. You two have always been a pair of fucking fools.
~~
taglist: @emerald-evans​, @fuckingbye​, @companionjones​, @maroonsunrise83​, @pono-pura-vida​, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​, @autumnrose40​, @nomadstucky​, @greeneyedblondie44​
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amostexcellentblog · 1 year
Text
Iceman: Look, Hangman, I know you think your relationship with Bradley is done for good, but I know that's not true. For reasons that I will never understand, he loves you and he needs you, you just have to fight for him!
Hangman: That's a nice little speech old man, but face it, your son's a stubborn jerk with a stick up his ass, and I'm just a mean sonofabitch who's too broken inside for a relationship.
Iceman: Oh, I'm sorry I thought I was talking to the brave naval aviator with two kills, who saved my husband and my son's lives like it was nothing, not a pathetic sadsack throwing himself a pity party.
Hangman: Leave me alone...
Iceman: Oh did I upset the crybaby? Does the crybaby want to get back to his little pity party?
Hangman: I said SHUT UP! *Slaps Iceman*
Hangman: ...Oh my god, I am so sorry sir.
Iceman: I’m not. Nice hit. I’m glad to see you’ve got a little bit of spark in you. I knew that Hangman was in there somewhere. I think you’re ready to hear a little story about a boy named Tom.
Iceman: A boy named Tom who didn’t have a very good time in high school. I’m referring to myself when I say Tom, it’s me Tom. I know you look at me now and think, boy he must have breezed through high school. Not the case Hangman. It was not easy going up and down the halls. They used to try to blow me up. People used to throw firecrackers at my head.
Iceman: Firecrackers, literally, not figuratively. I got firecrackers thrown at my head. They called me a freak. Do you think I let that break me? Do you think I went home crying to my mommy, “Oh, I don’t have any friends.” I did not. You know what I did? I pulled myself up, I studied hard, I read every book in the library and now I work for the government and have the highest possible security clearance...Don’t repeat that!
Hangman: I won't
Iceman: I can't protect you. I know where all the nukes are and I know all the codes.
Hangman: I won't say anything
Iceman: You would be amazed... A lot of shopping malls...Don’t repeat that!
Iceman: I have six houses. I bought a restored B-25 just because I could. You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself. I do not associate with people that blame the world for their problems cause you’re your problem Hangman, and you’re also your solution. You get that? I know you do, I know you do. Now go get your man! He's been moping all week and refusing to shower, and my third favorite house is starting to smell.
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lynnie-ee · 2 years
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White lies and study dates.
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╰┈➤"Having a crush on the busiest man of the entire school wasn't easy. Desesperate times call for desesperate measures, they say; and the prefect now understands why.”
╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 2,2k words.
╰►Note: English is not my first language, so feel free to tell me if there's any grammatical mistake!
╰►Masterlist. (requests open)
⤿
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"Ah, I didn't understand a single thing professor Trein said in class."
  (Y/n), prefect of Ramshackle, sighed tiredly as they walked out of their classroom, with Grim next to them, while Deuce and Ace walked behind with a similar expression of sorrow. Their eyes carefully gazing the Pop Music Club members that were near them.
"Maaan, I swear he does it on purpose, it's impossible not to fall asleep during his lessons." He groaned, waiting a few seconds until he tried to hit discreetly Deuce's arm.
"O-oh right! Crewel classes are so difficult-"
"We're talking about Trein, dumbass!" Murmured annoyed Ace.
"Yeah, of course...! Trein's class is the most difficult that we have, so confusing..." The blue-haired boy tried to fix his mistake.
"It's so sad that (Y/n) gets the worst grades out of us, my pooooor henchman..." Grim sniffed with a dramatic demeanor.
The prefect looked at their group of friends, disappointment written all over their face, thanks to their performance. But it was soon replaced by shock, as they suddenly felt someone sneaking an arm to their shoulders.
"Ah~ Are you feeling distressed by Trein's class, (Y/n)? I'd help you, but I wasn't the best at the subject in my first year, haha..." Cater said, trying to come up with something that might help the prefect, or at least cheer them up.
"Fufu~I did great at History of Magic, but I don't think my method of telling stories would work with others humans. I tried it once and they didn't believe what I said! A pity, really." Lilia barged into the conversation, and even when he tried to look saddened, a tint of mischievous could be recognized in his voice.
"I'm so sorry I can't help you either, prefect! Last year I couldn't understand anything by myself in that class..." Kalim apologized, genuine worry in his voice, as the first-years glared at him with interest. “If it wasn't for Jamil, I don't know what could have happened to me. He's the only reason I approved my assignments."
"Oh, but what if they hold back a year because of this? We'll miss you, prefect..." Ace mumbled with melancholy.
Everyone stood there, dissimulated looks being placed at Kalim's figure.
...
...
...
"Oh! I know what we can do!" The Scarabia housewarden abruptly said, a cheerful smile brightening his face.
"Really? Can you help our unfortunate magicless little friend here?" The red-haired first year continued, placing one of his hands on the prefect's shoulder.
"Yeah! I've got the perfect plan!"
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Jamil hated Kalim's plans with all his heart.
Every time he came up with a new idea, HE ended up being responsible for them.
Every. Single. Time.
Kalim wanted to throw a party? Jamil was the one in charge of the preparations. Kalim wanted to study something new? He was at his side to tutor him. Kalim wanted to go shopping in the city? He had to join him to make sure that he stayed safe.
  And boy, he was tired.
He already had so many chores to do even without those extra tasks, it was almost a miracle that he was able to manage his duties as vicehousewarden and his own school work, as time wasn't something abundant for him.
And he didn't need to add anything else to his already long list of things to do.
"I don't have time." He shut down Kalim as soon as he approached him.
"Pleaseee, you're the best at tutoring and they reeeeeally need help!"
"There are freshmen with good grades, they can ask their classmates."
"But they probably won't be as easy to understand as youuu..." The dorm leader said, a new idea going through his mind. "Besides, do you really want someone else spending so much time with them? It wouldn't be good for you."
Jamil suddenly looked at Kalim with urgency, an alarmed expression on his face.
"Kalim! We said you would make no comments about that!”
"And I won't say anything! But it could be a good opportunity for you."
The vicehousewarden remained silent.
"It would make you look cool."
"I don't care."
"You do."
"Kalim-"
“Maybe if you use the time you spend tutoring me?”
“And you think you’ll do fine with no help?”
“Of course.”
“No.” He sighed again. “I’ve got enough with school duties and preparations for parades, I don’t need-”
“Then I won’t make more parties!”
Jamil gazed at the dorm leader; a suspicious look being directed at him.
“You literally threw a party when Grim scored a 30 instead of 20 on a test, and you’re telling me you’ll stop with all of them?”
Kalim thought about the situation for a few seconds, he really enjoyed being able to celebrate and eat delicious food with all of his friends, but he had to sacrifice those moments for Jamil to have more free time to spend with the prefect.
“Of course.” He nodded, his usual cheerful smile on his face. “If it's for you to be with your crush, it’ll be alright!”
“…Please stop referring to (Y/n) as my crush.” The vicehousewarden asked plainly. “But if I don’t have to cook so much, I could help them to improve their grades, I guess.”
“YESSSS.”
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“Uh? Jamil said he could tutor me?” A confused prefect stared at the housewarden of Scarabia, his natural enthusiastic demeanor being even more noticeable as he smiled at the Ramshackle student.
“Yep! It would be very bad if you failed Trein’s class, so Jamil’s help will be enough for you to score 100 on every test from now on!”
“I don’t doubt it! Thank you very much, Kalim.”
“No worries~ Just make sure to stop by at Scarabia today, after class. See you later!” The second-year student smiled once again, as he started to walk to his next class.
“So, you actually got Jamil to help you? Very nice, prefect. Now, how do you plan on acting dumb for as long he tutors you?” Ace questioned, after he got out of his hiding place, inside of a nearby classroom.
“I’ve got no idea…”
After the classes of the day were finished, a nervous first-year student walked through the mirror of Scarabia, a small bag filled with their notes and books for the class.
"Hey, come in. Let's go to my room." Jamil pointed as soon as they arrived at the lounge of the dorm.
"Oh? Really? I thought we'd study here."
"That's an option, if you want to be interrupted every two seconds and have distractions left and right."
"But I wouldn't like to intrude on you; we can go to the library if it’s better for you.”
“Don’t worry, I’d rather stay here in case Kalim or any other students needs my help."
After 30 minutes of studying, (Y/n) felt their head was going to explode. It was rather difficult to pretend to listen to Jamil when all they had on their mind were the elegant and subtle moves he made as he flipped the pages of his books, the concentration on his gaze as he explained a rather complicated subject, and not to mention the way his lips moved graciously as he spoke the right words to explain things easily.
What kind of skincare routine did he have? What about his hair? It shouldn’t be possible that he naturally had such beauty, but then again, he looked so perfect even when he did the most mundane actions, the prefect keep wondering if-
“(Y/n)? Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” He suddenly interrupted their thoughts, an annoyed expression on his face that didn’t seem genuine at all. “For you to come asking for help and then ignore what I tell you, quite bothersome you are sometimes…” The vicehousewarden sighed.
“Ah, sorry, I got lost. Could you repeat the last point of the lesson? I remember I couldn’t hear professor Trein that day because Grim kept demanding me to buy pastries after class, he wouldn’t leave me alone until I got him some candies from Sam’s store.”
“Fine, but pay attention. You’ve got an exam about this in a week, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think we’ll have enough time to cover all the contents, maybe we should focus on-”
“We’ll study everything, don’t worry. Let’s continue, then.”
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It was obvious to some students that the prefect of Ramshackle and the vicehousewarden of Scarabia had a special way of treating each other, even more for the members of his dorm.
However, after two weeks of studying together, everyone knew the kind of relationship they had.
After all, Jamil wasn’t someone recognized for a cheerful attitude or being especially nice to others, yet he looked so unusually delighted every time (Y/n) was in the room, it was clear for other students to understand the situation.
Yet, none of them seemed to be brave enough to take the next step, until that day.
  “So your classes with Jamil actually helped you? Share your tips with us prefect, don’t be shy to tell us.” Ace teased the prefect, as they observed with a pleased face the result of their test. 
A beautiful score of 100 was written on the top of the paper. 
They only let out a satisfied chuckle, as they put the exam inside the folder they had for History of Magic, filled with their notes and previous exams.
“Now that I remember, maybe we should get ready for P.E class, Vargas said we’re gonna have a practice with other classes today, and you know what that means...” Deuce interrupted the conversation, an alarmed expression on the first-years’ faces, who already knew how difficult was going to be the class that day.
“We better hurry up before he makes us run extra laps, let’s go.”
They made their way to the gym, but as soon as they reached the door of the room, a sudden agitated look could be seen on the prefect’s face.
“I forgot my folder at the cafeteria, I’ll go get it in a second, wait.”
They ran through the hallways until they arrived at the cafeteria, feeling confused as their folder was nowhere to be seen.
“Were you looking for this?”
(Y/n) knew that voice.
Great Seven, please tell me this is a joke…
They slowly turned around, only for them to see an angered look from the vicehousewarden of Scarabia. They could easily notice the tension on his body, and the frown that occupied his expression.
He still looks kind of cute, though…
Although it could have been better if he hadn’t been holding their previous exams in his hand, of course.
“So you’re telling you asked to tutor you, saying that you were almost failing Trein’s class, and made me put effort and time on something that WASN’T EVEN NECESSARY? Your lowest score was an 85, (Y/n)! Most of your exams are between 90 and 95!”
The prefect could only smile awkwardly at him, as they slowly reached Jamil to take the exams and folder from his hands.
“In my defense, I never scored 100 points before our study sessions, though…”
“(Y/n).”
“Sorry, sorry! I just didn’t have any other option!”
“Option for what?” He questioned, still with an irritated scowl on his features.
“To spend time with you-! Ah, I know it might sound dumb to you now, but you were so busy all the time, I didn't know how to get to be with you without anyone else interrupting... I'm aware that I made you waste your time by teaching me, I'm sorry for that."
Jamil didn't answer immediately.
He stared at (Y/n), wondering why would they make an excuse like that just to spend time with him, maybe...? No, probably it wasn't that.
Although a small voice in his head was hoping that it was because they felt the same as him.
"Why? You're welcome to Scarabia all the time, you know that."
"It's not the same." They answered, a faint blush on their cheeks. "When I get invited by Kalim, there's always a lot of people in the room...And I'd rather be only with you."
Soon enough, Jamil's face felt suddenly warm because of his bashful state, along with a surprised look as he stared back at the prefect.
“You are so dumb sometimes.” He mumbled, the frown coming back to his expression. “If you want to spend time with me, just tell me. It’s not that complicated…”
“Really?!”
“…Yeah.” Jamil mentally sighed, reminding himself that he should feel more annoyed at the prefect’s antics. But he didn’t.
“Perhaps you’d like to go outside the school this weekend, then? We can go watch a movie or visit a cafeteria, whatever you’d like to do.” (Y/n) quickly suggested in their sudden rush of confidence.
“Well, considering that now I don’t have to tutor anyone, I guess I have time.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
The Ramshackle student smiled widely, briefly kissing the cheek of the vicehousewarden as they bid him goodbye, running to their next class.
Jamil stood in the middle of the hallway, still feeling embarrassed as he lightly touched the spot they kissed a few seconds ago.
Maybe he was the one who actually learned something from the prefect.
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lovesosweeet · 5 months
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better left unsaid // cth
chapter thirty one
in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.
calum hood x fem!oc
read other chapters
october 2, 2018 san diego, california calum
I feel bad for my Uber driver. He’s got some blubbering man crying in his backseat at 7 am on a Tuesday. When he drops me off at the hotel, I tell him thank you through quiet sobs, and I make sure to tip him incredibly well on the app. He didn’t ask any questions, although I’m sure he had plenty. 
I don’t know why I choose Emelia over any of my friends to go to, but I do. I bang on the door to her hotel room until she annoyedly swings it open, her eyes flooded with concern. I don’t wait for her to hug me, instead I just clumsily throw my body against hers and start crying.
I’ve cried more in the past two days than I have in the past five years. 
“What’s going on?” She asks, her voice just barely louder than a whisper. 
“She broke up with me.” Even though they’re true, the words sound like a lie. I don’t even know if Emelia will believe me.
“You’re shitting me,” is how she responds, and I just cry, confirming the truth without words. 
She lets me cry for a few minutes while she processes what I said.
“Cal, I swear, I had no idea that she would do that. I’m sorry.”
I just keep crying.
“Here, come in,” Em says. She opens her hotel room door wider and steps in, pulling me with her. I let her guide me to her bed and she pushes me down by the shoulders to sit. “I’m gonna go get the boys, okay?”
I want to yell after her not to bring Ashton, but I can’t make myself say the words. I hear her banging on doors and then whispering in the hallway, and before I know it, my bandmates and their girlfriends are all streaming into the room. Everyone looks floored and they look at me with immense pity. I hate it.
They all just stare, but KayKay is the first one to break out of the pack, coming over and sitting next to me, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. I let my emotions go again, letting the sadness ooze out of me in hot tears that undoubtedly fall onto Kay’s sweatshirt. She doesn’t say anything, but she just holds me as I cry. 
The room feels deafeningly silent aside from my cries.
I want to be mad again. I want to yell at them all for letting this happen. How could none of us have known? How could none of us have sensed this all happening? I know Orion is to blame for keeping secrets, but Ashton is who I blame overall. He knew. He knew and he didn’t tell me. He’s my best friend. He should have told me.
Even though I want to be mad, all I can feel is the sheer heartbreak. The love of my life… isn’t even mine anymore. She doesn’t want to be mine. I never thought this day would come. We were supposed to grow old together. We were supposed to get married. I figured I’d propose in a year or so, and then once she was out of law school, we would get married.
We’d elope, probably in Spain, but then we’d have an Australian reception and an American one, both still small small, with professional photographers to capture every single second of the elopement and the parties. We’d take pictures in Retiro and celebrate at Space Monkey. We’d watch the sun rise from the park, just the two of us, on our first morning as husband and wife.
Orion and I had talked about all of it. She’d shown me a Pinterest board of engagement rings she’d like. 
We had plans to buy a house on the beach in a few years, once we didn’t need to be close to any college campuses. We wanted to get another dog, and maybe even a few cats. We didn’t want kids, but we did want to rescue as many animals as we had the time, space, and money for. 
None of it matters now. She doesn’t even want to be my girlfriend anymore. 
I never thought there’d be a world without Orion being mine, and here I am, living in that very world. She won’t even be in the world at all once she inevitably dies.
“Cal? Are you okay?” Michael’s voice brings me back to reality, and then I realize that I’ve temporarily stopped crying.
“I don’t even know.”
5SOS Cancel San Diego Concert!
Everyone’s favorite Aussie band was slated to perform in San Diego tonight as part of their Meet You There world tour, but the band has canceled the show without much explanation, citing a ‘family emergency.’ This is the message they posted to Twitter just a few moments ago.
“San Diego, we’re so sorry to say we won’t be performing tonight. We’ve had a family emergency come up. We promise to come back very soon and we apologize for the inconvenience.
We love you! Xx -Ash, Luke, Mike, and Cal”
Fans are immediately speculating after images were posted of bassist Calum Hood at the beach having an emotional breakdown yesterday afternoon, only to be followed by images of Hood’s long term girlfriend, Orion Moss, doing the same thing at a different beach. Allegedly, Moss was approached by police before fleeing the scene.
Whatever is going on, to say that fans are concerned would be an understatement.
read next chapter
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pinkandpurple360 · 3 months
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This is going to sound petty but … I’m disappointed Hazbin’s doing so well, in terms of critical reception and views/trending. Viv is … not a good person and it just feels like she’s being rewarded for throwing everyone under the bus, being prejudiced, and just a plain mean girl to be honest.
And the more selfish part of me wants her shows to stop so I don’t have to see how Season 3 of Helluva Boss ruins characters I love so much that I don’t want Viv to touch them ever again
I feel basically the exact same and anytime people think it’s karmic justice or that something of impactful change will happen within the industry, it never does. She can step on anyone she likes, throw the nastiest tantrums, attack even the most vulnerable people in society, the gay community, trans community, the black community, the disabled, minors, SA survivors, and people will still eat it up. If you parody hell and draw well, with plenty of gay ships, that means you can do any of the things any other celeb would be lambasted for
[Leaks]
I feel you about helluva, like I’d give anything to stay in this precious pre S2E8 time zone before we see the character of Blitzø and probably MnM, Loona. Via, that we know, all die completely in “The Full Moon” for the sake of one very detestable character and his never ending sobbing and pity parties.
I wouldnt care as much if blitzø is portrayed as in the wrong and as being the problem as long as this “thing” ends for good. But seeing him be one sidedly lovey dovey and showing servitude towards his abuser like he appears to be in the leaks, while Octavia is abandoning Stolas, will make me sick beyond words. It’ll be like he was finally “broken” like a horse and tied down. I’m kinda grateful to however that was leaked because I can brace myself at least.
By the time next year when the ship happens I’ll already be moved on to something else that causes me less aggravation, and I’m sorry to say I might not have this blog to discuss it anymore because it’s just too much. The last minute romancing of his explicit sexual abuse is too much.
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buckysdolls · 8 months
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After Summer (Jeremiah Fisher x O/C)
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Chapter 2- Party of the Summer
I couldn't believe how different the house looked. The house was bare, like every memory we’d ever made in this house had been erased when the furniture was erased. My eyes darted to Jeremiah, I could see the tears brimming in his eyes as he looked around the room we’d just walked into. It physically hurt my heart to see him upset. I just couldn't imagine how he was feeling knowing that something his mom loved so much was being taken away from him and his brother. I couldn't ignore him anymore, I needed a moment alone with him to talk. Jeremiah caught me staring at him, I hope he knew my look was one of empathy and not sympathy, I knew he didn't want to be pitied.
Steven hoisted himself up onto the kitchen island counter and ran his hand across the marble surface chuckling to himself. 
“Remember when Blake slid across this so fast he fell off it and cracked his head open” The memory Steven shared made us all laugh a little. It fell silent again as people began to disperse to check out other parts of the house. It was just me and Jere in the kitchen, this seemed like the perfect moment to try and talk to him. He stuffed his hands in his chino shorts as he walked towards me. For some reason I held my breath in anxiety, I knew there was no way we could avoid each other any longer. I seemed to be able to notice everything about myself in that moment, the way my breath staggered, the way my skin began to feel hot and my heartbeat increased, as if it was feeling, feeling something it hadn’t since my last conversation with Jere. Passion, love, lust, belonging, acceptance. My heart wanted it all because my heart knew it belonged to him. It was like my heart was yelling at me, begging me to do something! 
“Jere..” before I could finish my sentence he engulfed me in a hug. I squeezed him just as hard around his chest, my hands clasped around him as if I was hanging on for dear life. My head collapsing into his chest I took note of his hand placement, one arm was wrapped around my waist whilst the other found itself tangled in my hair as he held me close. I’d missed this. Being close to him. I missed his fresh mint scent and the warmth he radiated, he really was as Susannah liked to describe ‘a sunshine boy’
“I missed you so much Fel” His voice was sincere but firm, as if he was trying to hold in his tears. He pulled away from me, his hands brushing my hair away from my face as his hands lingered on my cheeks.
“I missed you too, Jere.” A silence fell upon us as we just looked at each other.  
“I’m sorry” I cut him off before he could finish, he didn’t need to apologise for protecting his heart, it's the bravest thing someone could do. I smiled into his palms as my cheeks filled them.
“You don’t need to apologise. You were protecting yourself. I understand that now. We both said and did things we regret.” It was true, I did regret ending things with Jere, the funeral wouldn’t have been awkward, our time here in Cousins wouldn’t have been awkward.
“I should have called. I was so selfish Fels.” 
“I wish you did, maybe things would be different but right now what matters is that we’re talking.” I took Jeremiah’s hand away from my face and held them in front of us. I was saying all the right things to make it feel better but part of me was still hurting from that night, I blame that on my stubbornness. I wanted to plant the tiniest kisses on him anywhere, lips, forehead, hands, I didn’t know where to start but I was unsure of how inappropriate that might be, where we stood with each other wasn’t exactly clear. Belly scooting round the corner pulled us away from each other and we stood side by side.
“A farewell party.” I raised an eyebrow at Belly not sure what she was implying. 
“We’re throwing a farewell party to the house. One last hoorah.” Belly’s smile was captivating as she seemed so thrilled at the concept of throwing a party.
“And Conrad agreed to this?” I worried knowing Conrad was so caught up in the house.
“He said it's exactly what his mom and Blake would have wanted” Belly grinned from ear to ear.
“Jere text everyone you know. Taylor is on her way. Let’s create one last epic memory before we say goodbye.” Jeremiah loved the idea as he picked Belly up and spun her around, I watched on as I admired Jere, this was the boy I was used to, full of life and energy, always ready to have a good time.
“This place needs some decoration then.” I announced with glee causing Jere and Belly to cheer. As I started to walk Jeremiah leaped on me from behind, his arms draped over my shoulders and he clasped his hands together as he used me to lean on as we waddled away stupidly.
“If dad wont let us buy the house the least we can do is use his money to do the place up.” Conrad flashed his dad's credit card with the cheekiest smile I’d seen from him in a while. 
***
I watched her as she placed these huge pastel coloured goofy sunflower glasses on Belly. The way she laughed and when it died down into a smile had my stomach doing flips. The way she tucked her dark auburn hair behind her ear. The way she’d take a run up with the trolley then leap onto it and glide down the aisle for a second before she’d fall off, the way she had done that since she was ten years old. I loved everything about her. My heart would always belong to her, even if hers didnt with me. I lived a life with no regrets, didn’t care how many girls, or boys I kissed at a party, didn’t care about getting A’s, I left that for Conrad. But that night at the beach with Felicity is the one regret, the one biggest mistake of my life and I wasn’t sure if she’d ever forgive me for it even if she told me it was fine.
I watched on, I saw Jeremiah standing at the other end of the aisle with his trolley, I wondered if he was admiring Felicity the same way I was admiring Belly. The girls had brought me out of the darkness, shone so much light at me. Watching them right now, exchanging silly props with each other and posing for pictures on their phones was like sunbathing under the sun. The warmth and light was beating down on me hard.
I looked at Jeremiah who stood at one end of the aisle, then over at Conrad who was standing at the other. They were both wearing their own individual captivating smiles.
“You look amazing” I sarcastically told Belly as I placed the fluffiest biggest feather bowa I could find around her neck and flicked it over her shoulder.
“Yeah?” She giggled posing as I snapped her picture. A voice from behind spooked me as I saw a necklace being lowered down onto my chest, I swooped my hair to one side to allow the necklace to be placed. It was a fluorescent pink beaded necklace, like the ones you wear for an 80’s fancy dress party. I glanced at Belly who was smiling her usual coy smile.
“Only the finest pearls for a queen” Jere twisted me around to take a look before actioning the movement of a chef's kiss. We were just staring at each other as if no-one else was around, it was his eyes, always those big blue eyes that had me hooked. I watched as those eyes fluttered over my lips then back to my eyes. A cough drew us apart and me back to reality.
“Ready to pay?” Conrad asked, draping an arm over Belly. We headed to the checkout, paid for all our items then drove back to the beach house ready to set up.
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traumatizeddfox · 6 months
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I’m sorry to try to push something like this because this is your blog and I have no business trying to ask you to reply if it’s too sensitive a topic, but you at least posting this and letting other people give opinions would be very appreciated. Otherwise your own reply would be just as much appreciated.
If I hurt them just as much as they hurt me or I hurt them more by accident, am I even still a victim? Do I even have the right to be upset with what they did to me. I’m so fucking terrified that I’m just an abuser playing the victim or I’m fucking delusional for being mad at them for the things they’ve done and said to me. I try ti reason with myself that I am a child who never got the resources to recover from my abuse and am not old enough to get it myself. That’s the reasons they use to defend themself so if they’re right it’s ok for me to tell myself that, right? But by my own logic even if they aren’t technically an abuser for the things they’ve done in the time they had no resources to heal, that doesn’t mean they things they didn’t weren’t abusive. And if I’m applying their logic to both of us I have to apply mine to both of us. So that must mean I’m abusive
I’m scared that I just sound like a delusional abuser throwing a fucking pity party. If I’m not a victim but I’m not an abuser what am I. Maybe I’m a rabid animal, not dangerous by nature but currently very sick. But even saying that feels like I’m just trying to make excuses for myself. Everything feels like an excuse
i think as victims we sometimes can do things that are considered abusive or toxic behavior, but it can be reactive abuse. Sometimes we are just trying to defend ourselves or trying to survive. Theres no such thing as a perfect victim.
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"Broken & Beautiful" Chapter 31
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I wake up in the warm cocoon that is Jake’s arms. Sometime during the night he turned to his side, facing me. My face is hidden in his neck, and his left arm is draped over me while the other is underneath me. This is my favorite way to wake up in the morning, if I’m honest. I love being so close to him, feeling safe and secure.
 I know I’ve said that I can stand up for myself, which is true. But last night, with Cody, I panicked. I guess it’s because there’s a huge difference between fending off someone in a controlled environment and having to defend yourself for real. With my self-defense instructor, I knew that I was safe; that if I listened to him, and if I did what he told me to do, I wouldn’t be hurt. But with Cody, things happened so fast. Up until that moment, I thought that my training would automatically come to me; that I’d know what to do, right away. No questions asked. No hesitation, whatsoever. I was wrong. Yeah, I got myself out of his grip. But not right away. Not before Jake saw what happened. Maybe if I had broke free right away, the fight wouldn’t have taken place.
 Ugh. Look at me. I’m throwing myself a pity party. How pathetic am I?
 Jake stirs next to me, distracting me from my thoughts, and I greet him by planting a kiss on his neck. He makes a sound of contentment, and we move a bit so that now we’re face to face. Yeah, there‘s the morning breath issue. But still, this moment is nice.
 “Mornin’,” he says, his voice rough from sleep. “How long have you been awake?”
 I give him a small smile. “Not long. How does your face feel?”
 “Eh. I’ll survive. How does it look?”
 I reach out to stroke his face, avoiding the wounded areas. “Handsome, as always. A little banged up, but not too bad. Your eye doesn’t look swollen.”
 “Frozen peas work miracles,” he jokes.
 “There’s some bruising, but it doesn’t look too bad. Guess the jackass can’t throw much of a punch after all.” He chuckles, and something occurs to me. “Hey, Jake. Have I ever thanked you for all those times you’ve walked me home?”
 He thinks about it for a moment. “I don’t remember.”
 “Well, thank you. I know I put up a fight at first. But I’m glad you ignored me.”
 Jake runs his fingers through my hair. “You’re welcome. But I’m sure you can look out for yourself.”
 “Yeah. But still, it’s good to have back-up. How’s your lip?”
 “It’s all right. Thanks for taking care of me last night.”
 “You’re welcome.” I give him a kiss, keeping it brief and gentle. “Now, how about some breakfast?”
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 I walk into the locker room, taking note of the concerned looks on my co-workers’ faces. “Hey, guys. What’s up?” I ask, trying to keep it casual as I head straight for my locker.
 Heather gets up from the sofa, while Tess leaves her locker. They both approach me, and I immediately feel awkward.
 “Hey. You okay?” Tess wonders.
 “Yeah. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I answer with a shrug, hanging up my jacket.
 “Well, after last night --”
 “Really. I’m fine.” I hold up my wrist and show it to the both of them. “See? No bruise. No broken bones.”
 “That doesn’t matter,” Heather argues. “What that asshole did to you was wrong. You can charge him with battery.”
 I let out a sigh, my irritation starting to build. “But I don’t want to charge him with anything, Heather. I just want to move on.”
 “Yeah. I get that. But --”
 I snap, turning to face the both of them. “Look. I know what he did! I was there. Remember? I’m the one he grabbed. And if he doesn’t leave me alone, I will take care of it. I’m okay, and I don’t want to talk about it. Thank you for your concern. But please, just let it go.” Their expressions fall, and I slowly relax. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just embarrassed. It wasn’t exactly my finest hour. And then, there’s Jake.”
 “How is he?” Heather questions.
 “He’s fine. A little bruised and banged up, but not too bad. I’m just worried about what could happen next. I don’t want him to lose his job or get arrested because of me.”
 “But he did the right thing. He stood up for you,” Tess argues.
 “Yeah. He did. But Cody could still press charges.” I lean against the lockers and let out a heavy sigh. “I just wish I had handled things differently. You know, I did the one thing my instructor told me not to do. I panicked. And then, someone else came to my rescue. I’m a real credit to our gender. Aren’t I?”
 “Hey. You’re being too hard on yourself,” Heather comments, looking me in the eyes. “We’d all like to think that if something like that happens, we’ll think clearly. But just because you panicked, that doesn’t mean you’re weak. You and I both know you could have kicked his ass.” Tess nods in agreement. “And if Cody has the nerve to press charges against either one of you, I know a good attorney. I call him ‘Dad’. He’s just one phone call away, and he takes pro bono cases.” She gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before adding “And one more thing: stop blaming yourself for what happened. Cody had it coming to him. And blaming yourself gives him power over you. Remember that.”
 I nod, thinking over my friend’s words. She’s right. The more I blame myself, the more power Cody takes from me. I need to get out of that mentality and place the blame where it belongs: directly on Cody’s shoulders.
 “Here’s hoping he’s learned his lesson,” Tess remarks. “I’m so sorry I invited him.”
 I give her a small smile. “It’s okay. You didn’t know what kind of person he is. None of us did. I’m just glad that I won’t have to see him again.”
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 Jake and I are in the middle of our shift when the shit, as they say, hits the fan. I’m preparing a cocktail when Howard asks me to join him in his office, and I swallow nervously when he seems to notice Jake’s facial injuries for the first time. Oh, this can’t be good. While Howard turns to lead me in the direction of his office, I exchange a worried glance with Jake.
 Howard opens the door and allows me to enter the office first. “Have a seat,” he says, closing the door behind himself.
 I do as he requests, crossing my legs and folding my hands in my lap. I try to remain as calm and composed as possible, watching as Howard sits behind his desk. “What is this about?” I ask, keeping my tone even.
 “It has come to my attention that there was an incident last night involving you, Jake and another individual.”
 Oh, shit. I don’t know who blabbed, but I’m going to find out. I take note of the fact that Howard used the words ‘another individual.’ I assume that means he doesn’t know about Cody’s involvement.
 “Oh?” is my response.
 “Yes. Even though the alleged incident took place after work hours, it is my duty - as your employer - to conduct an investigation.”
 I nod, suppressing the urge to squirm in my seat. “I see.”
 He rests his folded hands on the top of his desk, looking at me in a way that makes me feel like I’m being interrogated. Or maybe that’s just me. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”
 “Not really.” The stare continues. “But I take it you still want to know.” He nods in confirmation, and I let out a nervous breath. Here’s hoping he didn’t notice that. Okay, Lilah. Vague answers only. Don’t mention details like where you were and everyone you were with. “It’s simple, really. Jake and I were spending time together. I left him for a few minutes to use the restroom. When I came back, a man began to talk to me. I didn’t want to speak with him. I told him to leave me alone, and I started to walk back to where Jake was. The man grabbed my wrist, hard, and I panicked.”
 “I am sorry that happened.” Well, that doesn’t sound patronizing at all! “Did he injure you?”
 I shake my head. “No. It hurt, but there are no injuries.”
 “I’m relieved to hear that." Howard leans back in his chair, thinking for a moment before he continues the interrogation. Oh, excuse me. The investigation. “Going back to last night’s alleged incident ... What happened after you broke free from this man? Did Jake become involved then?” He leans forward. “It’s my understanding that he came to your defense. Is that true?”
 I remain silent, not knowing how to answer this question.
 “I saw the injuries on Jake’s face. The bruise. The cut. The split lip. Combined, they tell me that a physical altercation took place. Seeing as he was injury-free during yesterday’s shift, I can only assume that the altercation took place after work. So I wonder what happened.”
 I swallow, hard. One wrong word, and Jake’s job is on the line. Howard has been chomping at the bit to fire Jake. This could give him the excuse he’s been looking for. “Yes. He came to my defense. No one else tried to help me. They just stood there.” I pause for a moment. “Sir, if Jake hadn’t helped me ... I don’t know what would have happened next.”
 “Do you feel that your safety was at risk?”
 “Yes. I do. The man already hurt me once. I believe he would have done it again.”
 Howard nods, studying me. “All right. You may go.”
 Taking a moment to steady myself. I stand up. I smooth down the material of my apron as Howard walks to the door and opens it for me. I step out of the office and make my way back to the bar, aware of the fact that Howard is following me. When I return to my work station, I see that Jake and Tess are in the middle of a conversation. They both look over at me, and I give them a weak smile. With Howard behind me, there’s no way that I can let Jake know that our manager has no idea that Cody was involved in the incident. Here’s hoping that not only will he keep his temper in check, but that Cody won’t be mentioned during his meeting with Howard.
 Howard asks Jake to step into his office, and Tess and I watch with nervous gazes as Jake does as he’s told. My stomach in knots, I do my best to focus on my work. Every now and then I look in the general direction of Howard’s office, not really paying attention to what Tess is saying as she works behind me. I try to pretend to listen, but my focus is clearly on what’s taking place in Howard’s office.
 Several minutes later, Jake comes back and Tess leaves. His expression is neutral, which isn’t exactly a good sign. It could mean that he’s angry, but he’s just keeping his feelings well-hidden. He stands close to me so we can have a somewhat private conversation, and I brace myself.
 “How’d it go?” I ask quietly.
 “As well as can be expected.”
 “Is that good or bad, Jake?”
 He sighs. “He asked me a bunch of questions. I told him what I saw. Said you weren’t safe. I stepped in. Took care of it.”
 “And?”
 “And ... he said that while he doesn’t condone acts of violence, he understands why I did it.” Jake chuckles. “He actually said that if someone had pulled that shit with his wife, he would have done the same thing.”
 “Howard doesn’t strike me as someone who would fight anyone,” I respond with a laugh, picturing our pretentious boss brawling with someone. Then I quiet down again. “But seriously, Jake. Is your job on the line?”
 He shakes his head. “No. I don’t know why, but the asshole is giving me another chance.”
 “Can’t be much of an asshole if he’s not firing you.” Since kissing him during our shift isn’t deemed ‘appropriate for work’, I settle for giving him a playful nudge. “I’m glad he didn’t give you the boot. If he had, he’d be down two bartenders. I’m not working for a guy like that.”
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It’s after work, and Jake and I are the only ones in the locker room. While we’re both dressed, I’m still not ready to join the others for Shift Drinks. I’m in the middle of applying mascara when Jake tells me he’ll meet me “out there,” and I pause long enough to give him a nod of acknowledgment. He walks away, and I finish my task a few seconds later. After checking my hair and makeup in the mirror, I close my locker and turn toward the exit.
 “Hey, Tess. Crazy day. Huh?”
 “You said it. I heard Howard’s letting Jake keep his job. That’s great.”
 “It is,” I agree, adjusting my butterfly necklace so it’s on display. I turn to make my way out the door when Tess asks me if Jake and I have heard from Simone. I don’t want to let her know Jake isn’t on speaking terms with the woman in question, and so I just say “Things are probably busy for her in France. I’m sure she’ll contact Jake when she has the chance.”
 “Yeah. Probably.” Tess stuffs her hands into the pocket of her jeans, and she seems a little reluctant as she continues. “I, uh ... I read her short stories.”
 I raise my brow at her. “You did? I thought Simone didn’t want you to.”
 Tess shrugs. “Yeah. I know. I, I just ... I couldn’t resist. Anyway, they’re, um ... they’re really beautiful.”
 “Oh, yeah?” To be honest, I’m not interested in hearing about Simone’s stories. I’m trying to find a polite way to tell Tess that much, when she says something that makes my ears perk up.
 “Yeah. They’re about this boy who loses his mother. He’s raised by this mermaid who cares for him and then falls in love with him. The way Simone describes their relationship ... It’s so beautifully written.”
Alarm bells are starting to go off in my mind, and I slowly begin to put things together. Simone’s story is a work of fiction, but I know more about Jake’s history with Simone than Tess does. “The boy who loses his mother,” may be inspired by Jake. “The mermaid who raises him ...” Is she based on Simone? If these characters are based on two very real people, does that mean that other aspects of the stories are based on real life? If so, then there’s more to Jake’s relationship with Simone than I knew ... and it’s so much worse than I ever suspected.
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@anastacia-lynn
@mypsychoticlove
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rose-pearls · 2 years
Text
The Amy March of Hawkins
This happens just before the halloween party in season two. The only warning here is that there is angst!
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I have always loved the book Little Women, the story of the four sisters has always been a safety net when everything seemed to go to hell like Demogorgon’s in Hawkins. I never really had a favorite sister, but I have always liked the evolution of Amy March. These past months have been nothing but crazy so imagine my surprise when I find myself in a situation just like Amy March. For your information I do not have an excellent talent for painting like her, I can draw a few things but that is it. 
I have found myself in the same love situation as Amy, loving Steve Harrington aka Laurie while he loves my older sister Nancy. 
Steve Harrington has always been the popular guy who seems to have the world at his feet and last year he took an interest in Nancy. Now this was on one side positive because I could get to know him better but on the other side, he was stupidly in love with Nancy in a way that I wanted him to be with me. Just like Laurie he wasn’t perfect I mean he wrote on the towns theater that my sister was a slut, and he was a bit of a douchebag but this past year he seemed to have grown. Not that my sister would see any of that, maybe that is the reason why we are arguing right now. 
“He has maybe helped clean up the words that HE had written but he still broke Jonathan’s camera!”, Nancy yelled at me while throwing her hands in the air.
“Right Jonathan! Again! May I remind you that he took pictures of YOU naked! So sorry if I do not feel sorry for his camera when he acts like a creep”, I yelled right back at her while trying to make her understand my point. She seemed to have gotten closer to the older Byers and while I never had a problem with him the story with his camera always seemed to creep me out. But then again, the professor with whom Jo ends up with in the book was a bit creepy so maybe they belong together.
“He was trying to find his brother!”, Nancy told me while trying to find her clothes for her party with Steve tonight.
“Right, well next time I’m trying to find Mike I will go take a picture of you naked or from someone else! Plus, Steve bought Jonathan another camera.”, I told her the last bit with a winning smile thinking that I had won this argument. Somehow everything always goes wrong when I start to have confidence in me because Nancy didn’t start screaming back at me but just looked at me for a long time, before saying something that I never wished to hear from her. 
“You love him”, she seemed as shocked as me when she said it “It makes sense, you always defend him and always try to talk to him and have his attention.”, I felt weak as a heard her speak and no matter how hard I tried I could not speak and say that it wasn’t true. 
For the first time of our lives Nancy and I stood in her room in silence looking at each other. At first she looked betrayed – her own sister in love with her boyfriend – but then she looked at me with a mix of sadness and pity while I looked at her with tears in my eyes that I refuse to let fall. 
I whispered a pathetic sorry, not knowing for what I was excusing myself of. Before any of us could say something, the doorbell rang, and our mother screamed through the house.
“Nancy, Steve is here to pick you up for the Halloween party!”, Nancy shook her head as if trying to regain her senses. She seemed exhausted, but it has been the case since Barb disappeared and that she tried to forget it. 
“I should go”, she said with a tired whisper. I just nodded my head and let her go to the party where she had asked me not to go because of me being a year younger and not old enough.
As the door of her room closes, I feel the tears starting to fall and my body shaking. As I sit down on her bed, I see a picture of Steve and Nancy at Christmas and I know that even though Amy March got Laurie in the end I would never get Steve Harrington.
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lordmartiya · 1 year
Text
@mlsecretsanta
My Secret Santa to @queerinette , now complete - I had forgotten a couple scenes.
To Marinette one of the advantages of being the class representative was that she had access to the class register, including everyone’s address and birthdate. Especially Lila’s. Finding out she lives on the other side of Place des Vosges from her home helped her not mistaking the Italian being around so often for stalking, and knowing her birthday told her when to find herself something to do and be unable to attend the party she knew Nino would throw her.
Meaning she was caught completely by surprise when he and Alya invited her and Adrien to the theater for that exact day.
“Sorry, I’m helping at the bakery…” Marinette said, before blurting out something else: “Isn’t there Lila’s birthday party that day?”
“No? Wait, it’s Lila’s birthday?” Nino replied.
“Yes… I thought you knew?”
______
Turned out Nino hadn’t known, and he immediately tried to set up a party for her.
“No, thank you.” Lila told him when he started proposing things. “Mom finally managed to get a day off for my birthday, and I’ll spend it with her.”
“Oh. Well, I…”
“Thank for the thought.”
“What do you mean “finally”?” Marinette asked.
“She’s a high-ranking diplomat. Not the ambassador, he’s in Bordeaux since Hawk Moth showed up and the French government holed up there, but high-ranking enough to have insane work hours… But this year she’s free.”
Good for her, nobody deserved to be alone on their birthday.
______
It was Lila’s birthday, and Marinette knew she was spending it with her mother at Disneyland Paris (she had showed off the tickets in class. The place was overpriced, but she supposed someone from outside Paris could appreciate it more than her). That was why she was surprised to recognize her coming in wearing a hoodie to buy a large cake.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at-”
“Zitta o te tranvo.” Lila cut her off, the use of Rome’s dialect rather than French or standard Italian showing how furious she was. Then the Akumatization mask flashed over her eyes, immediately followed by Lila saying what had to be a stream of profanities at the villain until the mask faded. “How much?”
“It’s-”
“If you say it’s free I’m letting myself Akumatized and then I’ll throw you into the Seine.”
“What happened?” Marinette asked.
“How. Much. I. Owe. You?”
“What happened?”
That triggered the Italian girl’s rant. In dialect, but it was close enough to standard Italian Marinette understood that right as she and her mother were leaving the embassy called because Tsurugi Tomoe had suddenly decided to close down a company in Taranto she had a controlling interest into, and that company was large enough the Italian premier had personally called her mother, who happened to be the highest-ranked diplomat in Paris as long as the ambassador was in Bordeaux (turned out Lila had downplayed that, much to Marinette’s surprise), and sent her to make her change her mind. And the immediate arrival of an Akuma, combined with Lila’s refusal to get Akumatized and ruin Taranto’s economy by going after Tomoe (how big was that company?!) and how much the now wasted tickets had cost, only made her more furious, to the point the Akuma wouldn’t leave. Marinette knew what she had to do.
“Mom, I’m going to Disneyland with a classmate!” she called out. There wasn’t any real need for her help at the bakery, after all.
“I don’t need your pity.” Lila spat out.
“It’s not pity, I simply don’t want to waste the tickets.” A lie, and Lila wouldn’t but it… But she could pretend and take the out without wounding her pride.
“Fine. At least that won’t get wasted.”
______
“Why was there a dragon?!” Marinette complained about the surprise under the Sleeping Beauty’s Castle.
“That wasn’t a dragon, just a the most extra fairy outside Winx Club.” Lila replied.
She had thankfully calmed down enough to reject the Akuma, giving Marinette the chance to purify it (Lila having left her alone to clean the formerly Akumatized friendship bracelet), and it had been a surprisingly funny day. Especially once Lila’s mother called to tell her daughter the issue had been solved.
As for the birthday girl herself, turned out that once she didnt’t feel the need to lie she was a very funny person to be around, if a bit opinionated.
“And don’t try and distract me, you still have to tell me why you’re convinced Adrien’s perfect.”
And there was that. Lila was convinced that her crush on Adrien was the reason for their feud (and Marinette had to admit to herself it had played a huge part in her initial reaction. And generally on why Lila irritated her so much), and wanted to know why. And was relentless. Enough that Marinette gave up and told her.
“You know what’s weird? That I’ve seen stupider.” Lila commented. “Sure, Adrien’s a nice guy, and I know from direct experience he’s far smarter and tenacious that his naivety makes him look – I hope I get to see Gabriel’s face when he decides he’s had enough of his bullshit – but you fell for him just like that?! And can’t even talk to him without being as cringe as Ladybug with her celebrity crush?”
Marinette cringed at the commentary. But Lila wasn’t finished.
“At least he’s not like his Eton lookalike, the cazzaro that stole his phone that time and acted like a Lazziale and got three Akumas after him. But, seriously, you need to stop acting like in an anime, it’s unhealthy and demeaning, for both of you. Get to know him as a friend first, then think of romantic stuff. Or maybe I should show you how going out with girls is funnier.”
Wait, what? “Are you hitting on me?”
Lila’s reaction was unexpected: her face showed the same fear she only had once, when Onichan was coming after her, and at the same time she was looking around for anyone who may have heard while her breath was getting more elaborate. It was clear what was happening.
“Oh. Of course not, I misheard.” Marinette said, surprising Lila. Though at least she was calming down.
“Yes. Yes you did.” the Italian girl said.
“By the way, do you think we could go out again, as friends?”
“Sure.”
That had been an unexpected day. But she had helped someone in need, it had been surprisingly fun, and it had confirmed what she had once written in her diary, that Lila could be good if helped. And now, she knew how.
______
“Wait… If it had been an initiative from an underling and Tsurugi-san had already solved it before you even arrived, what took you so long?” Lila asked her mother.
“She was on FaceTime detailing all the ways he had failed the company and shamed his family and all his ancestors, especially his father who had worked for the company for twenty years before retiring and paid for his college, before finally firing him. Took her three hours before she could see me.”
Lila facepalmed. If nothing else it explained why the poor daughter was so repressed. Next time she got Akumatized she was raiding the madwoman’s house and breaking something important, if she won there would be no Miraculous Cure to restore it. Or maybe she could steal some company secret and send it to a competitor, the Cure wouldn’t fix that one.
At least something good had come from the day. Sure, she had missed spending the birthday with her mother, but she had found some common ground with Marinette. Maybe, just maybe, they could become friends.
But there was still something weird in what happened. “Any idea why that woman couldn’t spare two minutes to tell you she had fixed it before fixing the guy?” Lila asked. “I know her daughter Kagami” her mother couldn’t help but snicker at what the name sounded like in Italian. Better than Lila laughing herself to tears the first time and then having to spend weeks to apologize. “and by what she says she’s professional enough to not force outsiders to wait for her whims.”
“Maybe she’s secretly evil even for a CEO and ruining your birthday was part of her plan?”
The diplomat and her daughter laughed. Who does that?
______
“You had me scare an entire city and ruin that girl’s birthday and couldn’t even Akumatize her.” Tsurugi Tomoe told Gabriel.
“Weren’t you looking for an excuse to fire him anyway?” Gabriel replied. “Honestly, I don’t see the problem, you always fire incompetent executives that way, and I just helped you do it faster by tricking that guy into trying to close down that-“
“I acted unprofessional. I always inform people that the issue has been solved before detailing the fool’s failures and firing them. And I do so in person. Not on FaceTime.”
“Wasn’t the guy in Japan?”
“Your point?”
“So you would have flown to Japan just to fire him?”
“Of course not. He would have come to me to be fired.”
Gabriel stayed silent – he just didn’t get the woman. Just as she didn’t get why the plan had failed: it took a special kind of stubborness and willpower to resist an Akuma, and Lila Rossi was one of two such people he was aware of alongside Chloé Bourgeois. They needed proper motivation, and he had clearly given her the wrong one. Maybe he could try with her rival… And even if that failed he’d get Marinette Dupain-Cheng. They were obviously eternal enemies.
______
“Just give them their dune buggy!” Lila and Marinette shouted at the villain in the film they were watching with the other girls at the sleepover, much to the surprise of everyone but Alya. She had always known this would happen if they were given the chance.
They were friends now, and they’d stay friends forever.
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