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melismaticmadness · 3 years

Text

TOILET PAPER

Owen Joyner Imagine

(ITS A LONG ONE BUT ITS DEFINITELY SMUTTY)

Y/n has been dating Owen for a little over a month, and he’s invited her over for the first night in his new, empty apartment.

3700 Words

Warnings: Contains Smut (18+), language

Hope you enjoy!

****************************

Oklahoma City is nothing like LA, I don’t know what possessed Owen to buy a place here when his parents' house is 25 minutes away. Most of his time is spent in LA anyway, but he’s Owen and he wants home to be Oklahoma.

We haven’t been together long but it was nice that he invited me over for the first night in his apartment, sitting on the floor unpacking the last few boxes with some trashy tv on and drinks. What could be better? It’s always nice to just be with him - no matter how boring we are.

As I jumped into my too-tight jeans and put on the button-up crop top I planned to wear, I was a little nervous for tonight. He’s taking a huge step in life, and I’m stuck. My acting career isn’t taking off, college is sucking the life out of me, and I hate my job. Now wasn’t the time to worry about my life though, so I put a little makeup on and turned the music up.

Owen picked me up around 6pm and we stopped to grab burgers for dinner. Eventually, we started making the drive through the city to his apartment. It was so weird knowing that when he’s going home now he’s going home to an empty place. He could do whatever he wanted now, he was finally free. Girls could come and go and no one would know. Girls who are not me could come and go...not that I think he would ever do that. Owen is well known though. He could have any girl he wanted, so I’m sure the temptation has been there. Especially since I won’t put out, not yet. We talked about it and I just have to feel like the moment is right. It’s a big deal for a girl to have sex for the first time.

The apartment is so nice. It somehow feels warm and industrial at the same time. All the paintings he ordered are resting on the wall by the big window, and his tv is of course set up already. Owen takes me by the hand and leads me to his room, abandoning our food on the living room floor.

“Cute. A mattress on the floor, O” I snickered.

“Shut the hell up. I ordered my bed too late and it won't be here for another three days. My mom made me take the mattress from my room at home until it’s here since I wanted to move out now.”

“In a hurry to get out?”

“You have no idea…” he smirked. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Owen, you better get used to starving because you still can’t cook.”

“Maybe one day you can teach me.”

***********************

Burgers were great as usual, and we put The Music Man on at Owen’s request. He must have just tossed things from his house into random boxes on his way out. I started unpacking and found two hats, a drum pad, hangers, dress pants, and salt and pepper shakers.

I started roasting him for his packing skills and before I knew it he was using the pile of hats as a weapon and was attacking me with them.

“I HAVE NO WEAPONS THIS IS UNFAIR!”

“FIND SOMETHING OR SURRENDER!”

“Never lover boy. You’re going down,” and with that, I found a wooden spoon and started whacking the hats away and eventually swatting him with it.

“I tap out. I TAP OUT!” he yelled in between laughs. I was pinned underneath him on the hardwood floor still playfully hitting him on the butt with my weapon of choice.

“Ha! You’re no match for me.”

“I think I can win in other ways..” he said, lowering his lips to mine.

I slowly put my arms around his neck and pulled him to lay on top of me. As I was running my hands from the back of his neck down his shoulders, he slid his leg up ever so slightly in between mine. He had gotten so strong in quarantine, not that he wasn’t before, but I could tell he was working out more to keep himself busy. I wasn’t complaining about it though. It felt nice to be held in strong arms.

It felt like we were making out on the floor for hours and we finally came up for some air. It was getting hard laying on the hardwood with this 5’10 blonde on top of me, but I knew he wouldn’t make a move because of our conversation a few weeks ago about me not being ready. That could change now.

“O, since you don’t have a couch yet...can we like to switch or something? You’re cute and all but the floor isn’t.”

“I think my floor is sexy,” he whispered. “Wanna go to my room?”

“Lead the way..”

We were hardly up off the floor before Owen picked me up and carried me to his room and tossed me on the bed. This time our kiss was different. My hands wandered up and down the sides of his body as his tongue traced the depths of my mouth. I returned his edginess by running my hands under his shirt and pressing him closer to me. My hands came around the front to feel the edges of his bare chest and waist. Ungluing my mouth from his for a moment for a gasp of air, I tugged his shirt up.

“You sure?”

“Mmhmm. Take the damn shirt off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He removed the shirt in one quick motion and I propped myself up on my elbows to get a good view. As he tossed the shirt off to the side we both were sitting up and I was grazing my hands over his arms.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked.

Instead of responding, I inched forward and kissed right above his waistband and traveled all the way up to his lips leaving kisses as I went. He let out a strangled breath as I made the journey and stopped me before I planted my last kiss on his lips.

“You’re gonna have to calm down a little if you don’t want me to have a situation to take care of…”

“Who said I didn’t want to help you take care of it…” His eyes were looking down at me and straight through me.

“I was- Y/n, you don’t have to - I was just kidding,” he said running his hands through his hair and looking away from me.

I had to prove that I was okay with taking things up a notch, so I grabbed his hips and started massaging him over his pants. Owen grabbed my face and kissed me, sucking all the air out of me as I kept kneading his hips and thighs. Slowly my hand moved to palm his dick through his pants.

I could feel his chest tense up and he sat up a little straighter.

“I think it’s time I lose some clothing too.. What do you think?”

Before even answering he was reaching for the buttons on the front of my shirt.

He was struggling with so many buttons. I knew they were too small for him to get so I stopped what I was doing and had to pull the shirt over my head.

Owen immediately told me I was gorgeous and I could tell he was trying to look me in the eyes versus at my boobs.

“You can touch me, ya know..” I whispered, almost as if I was scared of someone hearing me, but no one would. We were finally alone. It was just us at this moment. No thought of parents or siblings coming home. No worry about roommates hearing, or puppies crying from outside the door to kill the mood. This was it. I was ready. Tonight, I am going to christen this apartment with him.

Owen’s hands were shaking ever so slightly as he rubbed my arms and made his way to my chest. He placed a kiss right where my cleavage met and I could’ve died. His hands were huge and looking at my breasts in them made me worry that he had seen bigger.

He was kissing my collarbones and tracing every inch of exposed skin with his tongue. He slowly laid me down and said, “You’re perfect. This is perfect. We can stop, just tell me-” His voice was so low and raspy, but I cut him off with a kiss before he could keep talking.

Owen continued licking and petting my boobs, so I decided to be daring. I was dragging my fingers down his abs when I hit the little trail that led into his pants. Instead of reversing my course like I did before, this time my hand wandered lower into his boxers.

Gently, my hand explored the warm skin and curly hair before grabbing hold of his dick and giving it a squeeze.

“Woah,” he grunted, “Can't do that, you’re gonna kill me.”

“I’m still winning then, see?” I said teasingly.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah, O. Why?”

“Let me try something. Tell me to stop if you need me to.” He said planting a kiss on my lips after I nodded.

He readjusted himself in his pants and then started attending to me. Sliding my bra straps off my shoulders he lifted me up and reached behind me to unhook it. My breath caught in my throat when I felt the clasp fall open. He pulled it away and I reacted by covering myself up.

“It’s just me. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, just go slow.” Now I was shaking. I want this, but I’m still scared.

“I won’t do anything without asking.” He’s being such a gentleman and I was the one teasing him first.

He pulled my arms down and took a nipple in his mouth. He twirled his tongue around and sucked while playing with the other. My stomach was flopping around and the feeling of butterflies was traveling down between my legs. Owen started giving my other nipple attention with his mouth as his hand traveled down my torso.

His hand stopped when he hit the button of my jeans and just started playing with it. He looked up at me with his green eyes asking if he should keep going.

I took his hand and shoved it into my pants. He was definitely surprised but he found the top of my folds while still staying over my thong.

“Babe, your jeans are too tight my hand is losing circulation in there.” He said pulling his hand out.

“I can fix that,” and off my pants went.

Now we were both doing this dance in our underwear of making out and dipping our fingers into uncharted territory.

Owen suddenly pulled me to the edge of his bed and was kneeling on the floor, nudging my legs open.

“What are you-“

“You still trust me right?”

“Owen, I-

“Do you want me to stop?”

“...No. But I haven’t done anything yet-“

“Let me keep going then you can help me with my… situation,” he smirked. “Close your eyes. Relax.”

I did as I was told and felt Owen reach for the elastic waistband of my thong and pull it down. Oh my god. My cunt was throbbing at this point. I was dying for him to touch me again, but he was teasing me.

His hands started massaging my feet and up my calves and legs. He got to my thighs and kept his hands low. Then I felt him lay next to me on the bed as his lips met mine and his hands rubbed my stomach and fingers inched back down to my cunt.

His dick was pressed against the outside of my body and I could tell he was rock solid. How he was still in his pants, I will never know.

“Y/n, do you want me to stop?” I shook my head no and his finger gently parted my folds. I was holding his shoulder so tight, partly because of nerves and partly because I had never felt this way before.

“Have you touched yourself before? Like we talked about...” He whispered as his finger slid past my clit agonizingly slow.

“Yes,” I gasped, “just a few times.”

“What do you think about?”

I couldn’t answer him. My mind was racing and my heart was beating too fast.

“What do you think about when you touch yourself, y/n?” This time he asked through gritted teeth.

“You...I think about you…”

“Show me how you did it”

“No!” He took his hand out from between my legs, grabbed my hand, and led it down my body to the place he just left.

“Show me.” Owen sat up and slid back to the floor to watch what I was doing.

I lightly dipped one finger down to my vagina and back up to my nub. I started alternating between rubbing circles around my clit and the opening of my vagina. My legs were still moderately closed so Owen wasn’t happy with his view.

He pushed my knees apart and now my pink folds were on display.

“Keep your eyes closed, y/n.”

Owen used one hand to spread my lips wide open and the other to trace my wetness up to my clit. With his thumb, he applied pressure and moved in circles painfully slowly over my most sensitive spot.

Soon his hand left my clit and started poking my entrance ever so slightly. The next thing I knew, his tongue was on my clit picking up the pace and his finger was two knuckles deep inside me.

His tongue was working even faster now and I was so wet I could feel it dripping down to my ass cheeks.

Suddenly, there was a lot of pressure down there and I opened my eyes to see him two fingers deep in my pussy and his nose hurried in my folds. I was panting and he was giggling at the noises I was making because of him.

His hand never stopped moving but he looked up at me and said, “You’re unbelievably tight. Have you touched yourself like this?”

Truth be told, nothing had ever been inside me until now. Not even a tampon. I never had a reason to use one.

Inside of me, his fingers curled and hit a spot that made me jump.

“You still good?” He asked, stopping everything.

“Don’t stop,” I panted, “please, faster...harder.” I was squirming now with his hand stationary inside me.

“What exactly do you want me to do for you?”

“Keep touching me god, Owen. Lick me again.”

With that, he was pumping his fingers harder and faster than ever and his tongue was flicking my clit. I started feeling like I was hyperventilating and like I was going to pee. The butterflies and pressure building inside of me were intense but the moans coming out of my mouth told Owen he was doing a great job.

“Owen, I’m gonna pee! O, I’m gonna-“ He took his mouth away and replaced it with his hands to watch me finish for the first time. He continued to pump his two fingers and started rolling my clit between his thumb and index finger with his other hand. I was lifting my hips to meet his hand and he was trying to push me back down to the bed. My whole body was starting to spasm and I was a little scared. I was losing control of my body and had no idea what was happening. His hands were like magic. Owen spread my legs even wider and continued his rhythm. His fingers curled into me even further and it sent shockwaves through my body and I was lost in a frenzy. To his surprise and mine, I squirted all over his hands. He didn’t stop pumping and circling my clit until I was squeezing my legs together and pushing his hands away. Owen kissed me as I came down from my high and I caught my breath.

“Oh my god. Owen, I’m so sorry. I- I didn’t know I would pee. Oh my god.”

“Babe, you didn’t pee. That’s just what happens when you get off really well. It’s all good; no worries.”

“I never felt that way before. I felt like I never wanted you to stop but I also felt like I was exploding”

“Well, I don’t have to stop,” he said laughing and fake spreading my knees again.

“Hey, lover boy it’s your turn,” I said pushing him to the bed now.

“Wait, you don’t have-“ I was too quick. I already had his pants down by his knees and was fighting to get them off. After some help from Owen, and him removing his boxers, we were both completely naked together for the first time. He was much bigger than I anticipated with my hand down his pants. That was not going to fit inside me. There was just no way. He could barely get two fingers in me.

I looked him up and down and was taking it all in when he just blurted out, “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

“Maybe next time, blondie,” I said as I traced through his neatly trimmed hair and all the way down his length to his tip. He closed his eyes and shivered, so I stuck the tip in my mouth.

His eyes opened and bulged out of his head at the sudden sucking I was doing. My tongue swirled around his most sensitive part as my hands played with him at the base and his balls.

Owen tucked my hair behind my ear as I looked up at him. I slid more of his member into my mouth taking almost all of it without gagging. As I slid back to the tip, I let my teeth drag just a bit.

“Jesus Christ, y/n. You gotta go easy on me or I won’t last long.”

With a pop, I released him from my mouth and his dick was flushed and the veins were purple. Twitching as I slowly pumped it with my hands, his dick was releasing a tiny bit of clear liquid. I used my hands to spread it all over him which made my job even easier.

I had an idea, so now it was his turn to trust me.

“O, help me. I need you inside me.”

“Are you sure?” He was breathing heavy and I knew he didn’t want to stop, but would if I asked him to. I wanted this though.

“Yes. Tell me what to do.”

“No, let me take care of you.”

He flipped us over and began rubbing me again while kissing my neck.

“I love you. You know that?” Owen said in between kisses.

“I love you too.”

“Let me just- fuck!”

“What? What’s wrong?” I was startled by how mad he suddenly got.

“I don’t have anything. We can’t.”

“I have an IUD. It’s ok.”

“You wanna- No. Let me go run and see if I have something in my wallet. It’s your first time I don’t want you to worry.”

“Owen, I want to feel all of you since it’s my first time,” I said reaching down and grabbing his dick and lining it up with my heat.

“Babe, it might hurt. I’m so sorry, I’ll stop if you need me to.”

“Just do it, I’ll be ok.” With that, he pushed himself right up to my entrance and I already could tell this wasn’t going to work.

“It’s not gonna fit, Owen. Oh god.”

“Hey, relax. I know you’re nervous but it really won’t fit if you’re not relaxed.” He laughed.

“I’m gonna kiss you as I go in, okay? You can still tell me to stop.”

He went in for the kiss and slowly pushed the tip inside me. It was uncomfortable but bearable.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better, I think. I’m going to keep going.” He was holding his breath at this point as he slid about three inches further inside of me. He didn’t want to rush me but he wanted to fuck my brains out at the same time.

He hit something inside of me and I yelled.

“Ah! Stop! Wait!”

“Okay, Okay. Do you want me to stay or pull out?”

“Stay, stay...okay. Just do it fast.”

He pressed his forehead to mine and broke the barrier. I grit my teeth and cursed, and tried to close my legs. He held me close and wiped a tear as it escaped. We didn’t move for a solid minute as I waited for my vagina to get used to his size.

“Move. You can move.” I whispered.

He gave a little grunt in response and started pumping in and out of me slowly.

After a few minutes of Owen going painfully slow, he lifted my knees up higher and started going faster. I grabbed his butt and started pressing him into me.

“Harder. Please.”

He listened and started pounding me. I didn’t know anything could feel this good.

“Babe, I’m close.” He panted.

“I think I am too.” At that point, he picked up the pace again. Now I was bucking my hips up to meet his thrusts. I could feel him throbbing inside of me trying to hold back. I clenched my muscles a little and heard him let out a high pitched little yell.

I pulled his chain and we were pressed chest to chest, covered in sweat, and fucking like bunnies.

“Do you want me to pull out?”

“No!”

“Then I won’t last much longer,” he slid a hand between us and started rubbing my clit as fast as he was pounding me.

“Me neither.” I spread my legs wider and he finally hit the spot.

My walls tightened and as soon as they did I felt him release inside of me. His moans were intoxicating and I came undone.

“O, O, I’m cumming. Don’t stop.”

He did a few more hard strokes and we both were too sensitive to keep going.

Owen pulled out after a few minutes and I missed him inside me. We were naked, facing each other after being as close as two people could be.

“Thank you for that,” I said.

“Glad to be of service,” he joked.

“I’m gonna go grab things to clean up. Be right back.”

“Mm ‘kay,” I responded, almost drifting to sleep.

“Fuck me.” I heard Owen say from the bathroom.

“What’s wrong, hun?”

“I forgot to buy toilet paper..”

“Guess that means we both need a shower..”

#owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen joyner imagine #owen patrick joyner imagine #opj #owen joyner smut #owen patrick joyner smut #alex mercer #julie and the phantoms #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie imagine #luke patterson #jatp fanfic #jatp #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner x y/n #owen patrick joyner x reader #owen patrick joyner x y/n

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kozumekenza · 3 years

Text

on my mind :: five

:: suna rintarou x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.2k ::

After a drunken one-night stand with your ex, you thought you could get him out of your life for good. Unfortunately, the two of you can’t seem to keep away from each other. Why can’t you leave each other alone? And more importantly, why is he still on your mind?

tw: alcohol, profanity, mentions of sex

author’s note: this chapter is v self-indulgent + fluffy but i hard a hard time getting it to flow while covering everything, so i’m sorry if it some parts seem kinda confusing. as always, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

After another week of deliberation, you were no closer to determining if another relationship with Suna would be worth a shot. You didn’t hear from him or speak to him at practice, even after you rejoined the team on the court later in the week. He kept his distance, seemingly wary of talking to you after you left him at his kitchen table Saturday morning.

You weren’t quite sure what to make of it. Based on his reaction Saturday, you guessed he was probably pissed at you, and you didn’t blame him. He had specifically warned you about regrets on Friday night, and you completely blew him off, just to tell him you regretted everything the next day. It was a dick move on your part, and you understood that. There weren’t any excuses; it was simply your drunk versus sober self warring against each other.

Nonetheless, you still felt awful. You kept your distance; you didn’t want to further anger Suna with your presence. During practice, you kept to the sidelines, performing your duties with a calculating eye and absolute precision.

Still, by the end of the week, you were exhausted. Besides the intense contemplation you were performing in your head, work was also draining. Sakusa Kiyoomi sprained his wrist (apparently, it happened quite often), Yaku Morisuke nearly tore his ACL (a devastating injury for a libero), and on top of it all, Hinata Shoyo somehow managed to break two toes, his pinky finger, and got a concussion. Top it all off with the fact that Tobio Kageyama was always hovering over Hinata when he was injured, questioning your every move, and you had a recipe for disaster (or at least extreme exhaustion). By the time Friday’s afternoon practice was finished, you were ready to fall asleep while standing up.

You said your goodbyes to the team, approved the weekend’s schedule with Iwaizumi (it was your turn to work Sunday’s practice match), and took the train home. After unlocking your apartment, you debated whether or not you should go straight to bed without dinner or suck it up and make something quick and easy. In the end, your desire to not wake up starving at five in the morning won, and you went to change before starting dinner. You threw on some old running shorts and Suna’s stolen jersey, which had become your new favorite sleep shirt (who could blame you, it was comfortable as hell).

However, a quick search through your cabinets and fridge showed that you had almost no food, whatsoever. Not a big deal, you could just run to the convenience store down the street.

So you did, with no makeup, dressed in sleep clothes, hair in a messy bun.

Grabbing a basket, you made your way around the small store, ignoring the stares you received from other customers (you chose to believe it was just because of your tangled hair, but you knew it was because you were wearing a Japanese National Team jersey). You picked up some eggs and noodles for ramen, along with some broth. You were in the frozen food aisle, considering the merits of cookies and cream versus matcha ice cream, when someone tentatively called your name.

You spun around, cursing yourself for not at least putting on a jacket, when you began to curse yourself even more for wearing the stupid jersey.

You came face to face with Suna Rintarou, who was considering you with a pained expression on his face.

“Hey, Suna,” you switched your basket from one hip to the other, “what are you doing here?”

He held up the package in his hand. Jelly fruit sticks. “Had a craving.”

You inclined your head. “Cool.”

“What about you?”

You looked down at the basket. “Needed stuff to make ramen.”

He nodded, then looked off to the side before looking back at you. “Um, y/n, who’s jersey is that?”

Panicking, you laughed. “Just an extra I found.”

“Really? It has my name on the back.”

Shit. “Oh, well, must be a coincidence, I guess.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I also lost mine a few weeks ago.”

“Oh wow, that’s awful, I’m sorry.” You turned, trying to make an escape.

“Y/n.”

You looked back at Suna. “Yeah?”

“That’s my jersey.”

You laughed again, dread really becoming apparent now. “What? No way.”

Suna just continued looking at you. “Your bra is at my apartment.”

You quickly shook your head. “No-”

“So is your torn skirt.”

“No, tha-”

“We slept together.”

“Yeah, but only-”

“Twice.”

“No, def-”

“And you knew.”

You were really starting to panic, hands waving around, like that would somehow convince him. “No, no, no.”

Suna looked you in the eye. “We need to talk.”

You sighed, accepting defeat. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

---

After awkwardly paying for your food and an even more awkward walk back to your apartment, you and Suna were finally in private.

“D’ya want anything to drink? Water, soda, juice? Wine, something a little stronger? Vodka?”

Suna just sighed, shrugging out of his jacket. “Water’s fine, thanks.”

You poured him a glass of water and yourself a glass of wine, but not before taking a few shots of vodka. You were going to need it to get through this. You approached with the glasses, setting one down in front of Suna before curling up on the other end of the couch.

“Nice place you got.”

“Thanks.” You sipped from your glass, waiting for Suna to make the first move. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to speak until you did, you spoke up. “I’m-”

“We-”

You laughed, setting down your glass. “You can go first.”

Suna took a deep breath. “We both have fucked up, in the past and now. I’ll admit it. The way I treated you in high school was shitty, and it’s taken me a long time to own up to it. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you back then. And I don’t know if it’s you getting back at me, or purely coincidental, but I’m kinda hurt that you hid this from me. I mean, for fuck’s sake, y/n, I talked about it in front of you. And you just kept quiet!” You silently watched as Suna took a sip of water. “I guess my main question is why. Why didn’t you say anything to me? Were you just hoping that I would never find out?”

You assessed Suna, allowing yourself a moment to think. “I didn’t hide it from you to get back at you. I’ve long since forgiven you for all of the shit in high school, and it wasn’t just you. I was immature and insecure back then, so for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I think I didn’t say anything because I was scared. I mean, I woke up that morning in your apartment, with no memory of the night before, and I hadn’t seen you in eight years. I had no clue what happened or why I was there. I didn’t know why you were in Tokyo, and honestly, I thought you would’ve been disgusted. We hadn’t spoken to each other in a long, long time. I didn’t want our first meeting after all those years to be an awkward morning-after. And about the jersey,” you laughed a little to yourself, “that was pure coincidence. I had no clue what I had taken until I got home, and I had no idea how to return it.”

Suna nodded, seemingly thinking something over before speaking. “I forgive you. I’m not even that upset about everything, to be honest. I think it just kind of hurts that you kept it from me. And I’ll admit, I was really bothered when you just left last Saturday. I don’t know how much of what you said Friday night is true, and I was a little drunk too, but I meant everything. I didn’t want you to have any regrets, and I don’t regret it.” He chuckled to himself, “I mean obviously, I wish we had slept together under different circumstances, and I wish that you didn’t regret it either, because it clearly made you upset.”

“I think it just took me by surprise, that was all. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t get drunk and sleep with you again, and I did exactly that. I was upset at myself, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.” You made eye contact with him, hoping that your eyes could convey the emotions that your words could not. “For what it’s worth, I meant everything as well. I did miss you, all those years we were apart, but I hope you understand why I had to leave back then. We were tearing each other apart, constantly. I had to do the hard thing and get out before there was nothing left.” Tears started to well up in your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away. “I had to leave. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, because I loved you,” your voice broke, “no, because I still love you, so much. For eight years, I focused on bettering myself, and I tried every single day to forget about you, but you were always on my mind. And I was terrified when I saw you again, fuck, I’m still terrified. But you’re my best friend, you always have been, and I love you, Rin.” You couldn’t stop the tears that were flowing now, after bearing your heart. You let Suna pull you in, and cried into his chest as he stroked your hair and whispered calming words. When the tears finally stopped, you remained tucked into Suna, your head underneath his chin.

“I never stopped thinking about you, or loving you.” Now Suna was the one who sounded close to tears. “You can ask ‘Tsumu. I always asked him for updates on you. I remember, when I got my National Team letter, the first thing I did was ask ‘Tsumu if you’d be a trainer here. I kept up with you, and I knew you had just completed your training with another team. So I knew you were gonna be here, and I thought, maybe, just maybe, this was my chance. Our chance to fix the whole ‘right person, wrong time’ thing we had. ‘Cause that’s what I’m convinced it was. We just didn’t know how to balance each other out yet or how to be in a real relationship yet. We were still kids, learning about ourselves and the world. When you left, I was determined to not make it the last time I ever saw you. I knew you had to leave, had to find your place in the world, without me. I never blamed you. You did the hard part by leaving. What you didn’t know, though,” Suna hugged you a little closer, “is that I was always there, right next to you, cheering you on.” Now the both of you were crying. “I want to fix things with you, make things right. If there’s anything I learned last Friday,” Suna gave a wet laugh, “it’s that we can still talk to each other, and we can do it better than we ever did. I want to be with you, again. I want there to be an us, again.”

You sat up a little, putting some space between the two of you. This, you weren’t so sure about. You looked to the side, trying to avoid Suna’s pleading eye contact. “Rin,” you looked back up at him, “you know I love you. You know I missed you so, so much. But I just need a little bit more time. And I’m sorry to even ask you-”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” He held you close as you began crying again. “I understand, I do. I’ll wait, as long as you need me too, I’ll wait for you. Just promise me that you’ll let me know when you’re ready.”

You nodded against his chest. “I promise, Rintarou. Thank you.”

You stayed there, head on his chest, just listening to his heartbeat. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. It was nice to get everything off of your chest, to figure out where the both of you stood with each other. It was nice to know that you would have the time and space to sort your head out, to fully work out if a relationship with Suna was a good idea or not. There were still so many aspects of your high school relationship that you had pushed to the side years ago, and you needed to sort through it. You needed to separate that Suna from this Suna, the old you from the present you. You needed time to be in a better mental state, one where you could give him your all.

But you knew, no matter how much time it took, Suna would be waiting for you.

---

When Suna finally left your apartment, it was hours and a teary goodbye later. You promised to keep in touch, and he promised to give you time and space.

You went to bed feeling significantly lighter, dreaming about a future where you could fall asleep on Suna’s chest every single night.

taglist: @sunasexual @call-me-lulu @ntimacy @circleglasses @porcolie @keikotaro

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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Five: Like Real People Do

a/n: hellooo and welcome to the next part of ybmh!! i am sooooo excited about this next chapter (and upcoming chapters😏 ). Thank you again for all of your kind words and wonderful feedback! It's always so much fun to hear from you all, so as always, feel free to come chat in my inbox once you've finished this next part. I have a feeling there will be much to discuss👀 Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content, mentions of drowning

Word Count: 5.6k

read parts one, two, three, and four

“I’m not going,” Alani says finally, discarding the outfit in her hands onto a pile on her bed. The clock reads 7:55 pm, only five minutes before she was supposed to be at the studio. She still hadn’t selected an outfit, but her hair and makeup were still relatively intact from her shift at the café.

“You have to!” Pua whines. “You told him you would!”

“Then I’ll tell him I’m sick or something—food poisoning. Period cramps, maybe,”

She begins placing the clothes on hangers to put back in her closet, but her sister reaches for her wrists to stop her.

“You’re just nervous,” Pua says calmly, getting eye level with her older sister. “But you’ll regret it if you don’t go,”

“Go where?” a woman’s voice calls from the door frame. Their mother, Estrella, peeks her head through the cracked door.

“To a party with a cute boy,” Pua explains.

Alani shoots an icy glare at her sister before turning back to her mom. “It’s not a party. I’m working on a piece about a local musician and he’s recording some music tonight and said I could go. You know, to write about it,”

Estrella nods, not convinced. “So why don’t you wanna to go?”

“Because they almost kissed—”

“Pua!”

“Hey, hey,” Estrella cuts in. “Mija, you’re twenty-two years old, I don’t expect you to stay single forever. If you want to go out and see a cute boy, you don’t need to lie about it,”

“But I’m not lying,” Alani defends. “It’s just… complicated, and I’m trying to be professional about it.”

Estrella steps away from the doorframe and envelops her daughter in a hug. “Sometimes, you just have to do what feels right and hope for the best,”

Alani is grateful for the piece of wisdom from her mother, feeling a small weight lifted off her shoulders.

“But if I were you,” her mom continues. “I would wear the black strappy dress with those wedges.”

********

8:10. Harry checks his phone for the third time in one minute, growing more disappointed each time the same three numbers stare back at him, almost mocking. He doesn’t feel any better when the time reads 8:11.

“Can I interest you in a piña colada?” Mitch pipes up, sauntering over with a glass in each hand.

The choice of drink seemed perfect when Harry had suggested it earlier in the day, but he deeply regrets it now. Despite the tightening at the back of his throat, Harry accepts the drink and chooses to nurse it in a different corner of the room. A part of him feels guilty for being such a buzzkill around his friends these days, and he wishes more than anything that he could just enjoy living in this moment with them. Being away from Alani had produced a strange feeling in him similar to the sickness experienced when leaving home on a long vacation; Harry didn’t know exactly how to cure it, but he hoped that lots of alcohol would do the trick.

When the clock reads 8:20, he accepts that she isn’t coming and decides to make the best of a shitty situation. He drains another piña colada and joins his friends who are huddled around various instruments and sound equipment. A few more of Harry’s writer and producer friends had joined the trip temporarily, and he’s grateful, now more than ever, for their presence—it distracts him from the overwhelming emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Jeff hands Harry a microphone and some headphones while Mitch plugs a white electric guitar into the amp. The guitarist begins with some chords that the crew has been messing around with for the past couple of days: an upbeat riff reminiscent of some of Harry’s favorite 70s rock pieces. His head is spinning mildly, but he uses the feeling as inspiration. He pinches his eyes shut and tries to let the lyrics flow, but the only words coming out are “she’s driving me crazy”, so he starts with that. The group also runs with it, adding a few yells and lyrics of their own. The song isn’t coherent in the slightest, filled mostly with laughter and choppy melodies, but it’s the best Harry has felt all night. He traded the piña coladas for a glass of tequila fit snugly in the palm of his hand, and true to Mitch’s word, the giggles emerge. At one point, he shouts the words “I’m havin’ your baby”, which makes zero sense to anyone in the room, including him, but they decide that it sounds cool and keep it going.

“It’s none of your business!” Mitch calls back, voice raised in his best soprano to mimic that of a woman. The shoddy attempt makes Harry laugh even harder and his hand clutches his stomach.

They continue on for what feels like hours, but in reality has only been forty-five minutes. At 9:05, Jeff Azoff heads outside to catch his breath and cool down. As he takes a seat on the steps, a yellow Ford Bronco pulls into the lot and Alani steps out once it's parked. She emerges in a black dress that falls mid thigh and a baby pink leather jacket, making her way nervously up the steps.

“Alani,” Jeff greets warmly with cheeks flushed. “Welcome. Party’s inside.”

She shoots him a grateful smile and reaches for the studio door, slipping inside cautiously. The music had been audible a mile down the road, but it’s even more overwhelming inside. Standing on a small coffee table in the center of the room is Harry with an arm draped around a shorter man wearing a black and white Adidas shirt. His dimples are on full display and his warbled words carry over the speakers to attack her from all sides. She recognizes Mitch hunched over a guitar and Jeff Bhasker spinning in an office chair, but she can’t put names to the other faces lingering around Harry. Alani feels extremely out of place, not knowing where she belongs in all of the chaos—it all seems to her like a living Jackson Pollock painting that she can’t look away from. In the middle of his off-key rendition of Wannabe by the Spice Girls, Harry’s eyes land on Alani and his smile grows ten times wider. He puts one foot in front of the other, completely disregarding the small size of the table, but he catches himself just as Alani lunges forward to help him. This results in their two bodies pressed flush against one another, the coolness of her leather jacket versus the warmth of his intoxication.

“You made it,” he slurs.

Alani takes a small step back and clears her throat. “Yeah. Sorry I’m late,”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” Harry shrugs, his eyes lighting up when he remembers something. “There’s piña coladas! In the kitchen,”

The fact that he remembered such a detail from their previous conversations and made an effort to incorporate it into this night makes her cheeks warm.

“Okay, cool. Thanks,”

Harry scans her appearance and his stomach flutters.

“Y’look really pretty,” he offers. Alani can tell that it takes every ounce of effort to do so.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, voice small.

“Wanna get some fresh air?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of them slip out through a side door and into the backyard, stopping just before the pier. Alani doesn’t know how much of these next moments Harry will remember in the morning, which makes her feel a little more confident to share what she’s truly thinking.

“Harry, I—”

“God, you’re so pretty,” he interrupts, running a hand through his hair.

Her cheeks heat up, but she pushes past the feeling. “And you’re drunk,”

“Yeah, true. But you’re still pretty. Always think so,”

Alani searches his eyes, which are sleepy and bloodshot, but there isn’t a trace of insincerity. In this moment, she also feels the overwhelming urge to be honest—about the butterflies in her stomach that only set flight when he’s around, and the way she constantly wonders what his lips would feel like against hers. But there’s an intensity behind Harry’s gaze, despite his intoxicate state, that stops her.

“You’re making this so hard,” Alani laughs lightly, more to herself than him.

“‘M sorry,” he offers. “Don’t mean to,”

She smiles at Harry’s completely innocent reply, not knowing what to do with all of the pent up affection she has for him. A part of her simply wants to scream in his face to stop being so goddamn endearing. Instead, Alani turns on her heel to put some space between them, but stops when she feels a warm hand tug at her fingers.

“Why d’you always do that?” Harry asks, his expression a little more sober.

Alani takes a deep breath. “Do what?”

“Pull away when I get close. Did it in the car that one time. And the other time at the beach,”

There’s a beat of silence where Alani isn’t sure how to respond, but before she does, Harry releases her fingers and takes a step back.

“Wait, that was stupid. ‘M sorry if I did anything—”

“No,” Alani interrupts, taking a step closer. “You haven’t done anything wrong,”

“So why?”

She releases a breath and swallows. “I don’t know,”

It isn’t the answer Harry is looking for, but he accepts it with a slow nod. Suddenly feeling the need to flee, he takes a step onto the railing of the pier and Alani’s heart rate speeds up.

“What’re you doing?”

“S’hard to tell,” he shrugs before letting himself fall into the water below.

“Harry!” she screams, heaving over the edge of the railing to find him. The drop, unbeknownst to her, is only six feet and he’s done it many times before.

After a few seconds, Alani sees him reemerge at the surface, shaking his wet hair out. There’s a small strip of sand along the shore below, so she bolts down the stairs to meet him at the bottom.

“What the fuck?!” She cries, panic welling in the brim of her eyes. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he deadpans.

“You could’ve hurt yourself,” Alani croaks, her limbs shaking. “You—you could’ve—”

Harry reaches out to comfort her but she steps back.

“I gotta go,”

“Alani,” he says gently, but she doesn’t respond. “Alani, wait!”

She walks briskly back to the front lot, Harry close behind.

“Alani, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t follow me.” she orders.

Her words are like a dagger through his chest, but he respects her wishes and stops dead in his tracks. Harry stands soaking wet under the moonlight, feeling helpless as he watches Alani disappear into the darkness.

********

She wakes the next morning with puffy eyes and a heavy heart, still wearing the same black dress from the night before. The warm water of a morning bath eases some of the tension in her muscles, but she knows it will take a lot more to soothe the tightness in her chest.

Why do you always do that?

Do what?

Pull away.

Their conversation from the night before lingers like a nasty bruise in Alani’s mind, but she senses a bit of harsh truth in Harry’s words. She did have a bad habit of walking away when things got hard, especially concerning matters of the heart. Her instincts were all flight and no fight, so even if Alani had stayed, she isn’t sure how she would’ve explained her reasons for panicking. How do I gently pepper in the whole almost dying thing? she wonders, a lump forming at the back of her throat. Alani was only eight years-old when she nearly drowned, and though almost fourteen years had passed since then, she still vividly remembers the helplessness of sinking further under the strong tide. On nights after a particularly stressful day, Alani’s sleep is often disturbed by the sensation of her lungs slowly filling with water only to wake up drenched in sweat and clutching the sheets. She had worked hard for several years after the incident to overcome her fear of the ocean, but a part of her still couldn’t shed the debilitating need for caution. After all, it was easier to avoid the water altogether than to wade in blindly and get sucked under. Watching Harry sink into the unknown stirred the same sense of panic that Alani had felt all those years ago and threatened to undo her progress, but she quickly realized that it was the idea of losing him that had sent her into flight mode. She imagines the hollowness she would feel at the sight of waterfalls and the scent of vanilla; piña coladas—the drink and the song—tainted in her memory forever. The thought of Harry's absence was all too much to bear, but it’s how she knew that his presence must mean something. He meant something, and she couldn’t let him go.She ends her bath quickly and sifts through the first pair of clothes she can find. Suddenly none of it mattered: what she wore, how she looked, Rolling Stone—nothing but him. Alani thinks back to her mother’s words: sometimes you just have to do what feels right and hope for the best. All she needed to do was see him and the words would find themselves. The sky is overcast when she steps outside, so she quickly puts the top on Stevie and pulls out into the road, deciding to make one quick pit-stop before setting off to find him.

********

Harry’s head pounds and he feels as if the sun has been set to maximum brightness. His clothes reek of saltwater, his skin feels like sandpaper, and his mouth is the Sahara desert. None of this compares, however, to the sense of impending doom that settles in when the memories of the night before, particularly those of Alani, resurface. I’m so fucked, he groans. Harry doesn’t quite remember every detail, but he remembers enough; he remembers how pretty she looked, and reminding her of it. He feels the temporary warmth of her fingers and the coolness of her jacket pressed against his chest. There’s a bit of fuzziness between the Spice Girls and piña coladas, but then Harry remembers crashing through water and his memory gets clearer. He fucked up. He had upset Alani in some way and although he doesn’t quite know how, he knows that he would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it. Harry sits up suddenly and the whole room spins, but he makes an effort to stand anyway. Need to see Alani, he thinks with determination, I just need to see Alani.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Mitch comments from the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee.

“What time is it?” Harry croaks.

Mitch takes a sip of coffee and checks his phone. “10:30,”

“And last night was…”

“The party?” Mitch fills in the gaps. “Yeah,”

Harry rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and takes a seat at the table. “Did...did you see Alani?”

“No. I don’t think anyone did, actually. Did you?”

“Yeah,”

“So… I’m assuming it didn’t go well?”

Harry’s throat tightens and he hopes that she at least got home safely. He can’t bear to think about anything bad happening to her on his watch.

“No,” he confirms with a sigh. “No it didn’t,”

“Are you gonna go talk to her?” Mitch prods.

“Dunno if I should. She was pretty pissed,”

Mitch thinks for a second, taking another sip of coffee. “What would Noah Calhoun do?”

Under normal circumstances, Harry would be very amused by his friend’s reference to The Notebook, but right now he’s too focused on making things right with Alani. He devises a plan of action and stands.

“On a scale of one to ten,” he starts. “How shitty do I look?”

Mitch scans his best friend over, head tilting from side to side as he considers the question. “About a 7.5.”

“Good enough.”

Harry swipes the keys to the Cadillac off the counter and slips his feet into a pair of beat up vans before heading out the door.

********

The restaurant is fairly empty, as far as Alani can tell from the back. The kitchen staff are gathered in the break room for the time being, which allows her to tiptoe around unnoticed as she grabs the necessary ingredients for her peace offering to Harry. She hurries out through the employee entrance as soon as it’s complete and the key is already turning in her car’s lock when she hears a voice over her shoulder, calling her name.

“David?” she responds, turning to face the brawny man leaning against the car that is parked beside hers.

“Hey,” he starts, offering a flash of pearly white teeth. “I know I’m not supposed to be back here, but I just wanted to talk to you,”

Alani swallows, the icy chill of the drink in her hands reminding her of what needs to be done.

“You know, now’s not really a gr—”

“I haven't stopped thinking about you,” David interrupts, taking a step closer. “Since the other day when you stopped by. I mean, I think about you all the time but…” he trails off and Alani waits awkwardly for him to finish his ill-timed confession. David takes another step towards her and rests his forearm against the hood of her car, practically boxing her in with no escape route.

“We were really great together, don’t you think?” he asks, scanning her face with his prying eyes. “I don’t even remember why we broke things off,”

Alani’s brow furrows, her mind failing to come up with a logical explanation for this very sudden and uncomfortable conversation. She hadn’t lied when she told Harry that David wasn’t her ex, but she hadn’t been entirely honest, either. They had started hooking up during her senior year of high school—mostly because he was the star swimmer on their team that all the other girls fawned over, and despite all the attention, he had wanted her. It made her feel momentarily special, though she knew he wasn’t the boyfriend type. “Just a bit of fun” is what they called it, and the arrangement worked out well until Alani’s freshman year of college when she realized that there was an entire world of opportunities waiting beyond the confines of high school. A world that had brought her Harry, who was probably going to leave just as soon as he’d arrived if she didn’t make amends quickly.

“No,” Alani says decisively, nudging his arm away. “We weren’t ‘great’ together, we weren’t even good for each other,”

“Alani-”

“We were really young,” she continues. “And we did what we did, but that’s all in the past-”

“If you would just give me a chance-”

“I didn’t even know what I wanted for myself back then, let alone what I wanted out of a partner. But I do now,”

She doesn’t have to say Harry’s name, but they’re both thinking it. David steps back, arms crossed, and though he had always been somewhat intimidating, he looks small standing before her now.

“It’s because of that British guy, isn’t it?” he asks, despite the feeling that he already knows the answer.

Alani lets out a light laugh but she doesn’t confirm his suspicions. “We have nothing in common, David. We want different things out of life, you’ll see,”

“And he,” David continues, an accusatory tone on the word “he”. “Wants everything you do?”

She thinks for a moment, her heart pounding as she considers what Harry’s response will be to her confession. “I hope so.”

********

Harry had considered going to Alani’s house first, but he wasn’t sure who else would be home and didn’t particularly want his first interaction with her parents to occur whilst hungover. Sitting parked on the back road behind the café, however, he wishes that he had stopped there first to save him the painful sight ahead. Harry recognizes the other man from the restaurant he had taken Alani to the first time they had hung out, a name that started with the letter “D," though probably not the one flashing angrily in his mind. His arm is draped comfortably along the roof of her car, their bodies inches apart in what appears to be a very intimate moment. While he still can’t remember the exact details of his actions that had upset Alani so much, he fits this piece into the puzzle and it becomes much more clear. She has a boyfriend, and no amount of apologies could reconcile this fact, however tempted Harry may be to try. The word “boyfriend” sits uncomfortably in his mind, but it suddenly puts everything else into perspective. It explains why she fled his car so quickly when his wandering eyes had hinted their desire for her kiss—both times. He could have sworn that it would have happened had her phone not interrupted them the second time, but perhaps it had all been a trick of the rose-colored light. The sudden realization makes Harry feel sick, and a bit foolish, so he speeds off before he can be spotted.

He drives aimlessly for a while, mind still racing with the image of the other man’s depraved hands on Alani’s soft skin. The uneasiness boiling in the pit of his stomach is pathetic—he’s well aware—but he can’t stop himself from wondering why not me? It’s a selfish thought, but it eats at him, nonetheless. It should have been me. But the reality is that it wasn’t him, and it never would be. Despite any feelings he’d had that Alani was the one for him, he was not the one for her, and it’s a fact he must learn to live with. If this thought were a rock, he’d turn it over in his fingers until they bled.

********

Alani pulls up to the studio hesitantly and waits a beat before making her way up the stairs. She knocks twice, but there’s no answer, so she presses her ear to the door in search of any sound. Silence. There’s no trace of the cars Harry usually drives when she wanders to the back lot, either, so she figures that he must not be here. Alani racks her brain for other possible locations, but it’s a dead end. She doesn’t know what hotel or house he could be staying at, and her heart begins to race at the idea that he might not even be in Hawaii anymore. For all she knows, he could be on a return flight to L.A. or London, gone forever with the same instructions she had left him: don’t follow me. Alani lifts her phone with trembling fingers and searches Harry’s name, pressing the phone to her ear and praying like she had never prayed before. It rings three times before she’s sent to voicemail. The sound of his voice on the recording brings temporary relief, but it’s gone as soon as the message ends and she is prompted to respond. She clears her throat gently and speaks as if he is at the other end waiting to hear the right words and pick up.

“Hi, it’s Alani,” she starts slowly. “I, uh…. I’m at the studio. I don’t think you’re here though,”

She walks in small circles around the backyard and lets her eyes roam to the pier where it all went wrong. It sends a pang of guilt through her spine, but it fuels her next words.

“Listen, I really wanna talk—about last night. I shouldn’t have left, I know that now. It wasn’t you, it was me, and I know that sounds cliché but it’s true,”

Alani swallows down the emotion bubbling at the back of her throat and wishes that she could just see him, face to face, one last time. There’s so much more she needs to say, but it’s a conversation she doesn’t want to have with his answering machine.

“Please just call me when you get this. I wanna explain everything if you’ll let me.”

She hangs up and nearly throws her phone into the ocean. Though her trauma response wasn’t completely in her control and it isn’t something she should feel guilty about, she wishes she had been able to explain. Alani hadn’t always been comfortable sharing that part of her life, but there was a security in Harry’s presence that made her feel okay to do so. She wanted to share everything with him, the good and the bad, but she needed to find him first.

Only twenty minutes had elapsed at the studio when Alani decides to head out; there was still no word from Harry and she needed to be anywhere else beside the site of their potential last meeting. She drives with no particular place in mind, the windows rolled down to let in the chilly, overcast air. It isn’t until she’s halfway in the opposite direction that she gets the urge to visit one other location. There’s an extremely small chance that Harry will be there, but she goes less in search of him and more for her own personal wallowing.

When Alani pulls up to the lookout where the two of them had spotted the rainbow, there is another car already parked: a pink Cadillac. The sight makes her entire body freeze.

“Harry?” a small voice calls behind him. He almost thinks that he had hallucinated it until he reluctantly turns his head and sees a timid Alani emerging from her car. A million emotions run through his mind at once, starting with confusion and elation and ultimately ending in grief.

“Hey,” he responds, weakly, still leaning against the hood of the Cadillac.

Alani slowly makes her way over, not entirely sure that he’s actually there. Once she gets closer, however, she can smell the faint scent of vanilla and her chest swells.

“I left you a voicemail,” is all she can say.

Harry’s brow furrows as he tries to remember any phone calls, but he suddenly figures that in all of his rush to see her, he had forgotten to grab it from his bed.

“Left my phone at the house,” he offers.

There’s a brief silence where the two of them size each other up, weighing their own motives against what they assume to be the other person’s. Harry speaks first.

“Alani, ‘m really sorry,” he says gently, stepping away from the car and towards her. “I know I fucked up—”

“Harry—”

“But I understand now,” he continues. “I know why you were upset,”

Confusion settles into Alani’s body and she wonders how he could possibly know about her accident. Or if he didn’t know, what else he could be referring to. She doesn’t have to guess for long because Harry continues despite her silence.

“I saw you with him—your boyfriend, I mean. Derek?” he explains. “But not in a creepy way I just.. wanted to talk. Bad timing,”

“Wait,” Alani cuts in, her brain finally sorting out the pieces. “You saw me and David..today?”

Harry feels as if the knife in his chest has been twisted further at the mention of the other man’s name, but he nods. An uncontrollable bubble of laughter finds its way up Alani’s throat, and the sound would typically bring butterflies to his stomach, but it only exacerbates the heartache.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alani clarifies. “He’s delusional. And a huge pain in the ass, but I think he finally got the hint when I turned him down earlier,”

Harry’s ears perk up at the news, but he’s still wary.

“But you two were—”

“Ancient history,” Alani reassures him, taking another step closer. “He might as well be Socrates,”

A faint smile tugs at the corners of Harry’s lips and he feels a wave of relief wash over his body. The news is music to his ears, but he still wants to know what he had done to make her walk away that night.

“So you weren’t upset because you have a boyfriend and I tried to make a move?”

Alani takes a deep breath, knowing that she has avoided saying her piece long enough. Before she can start, though, a rumble of thunder interrupts her thoughts.

“Can we talk in Stevie? I don’t feel like standing in wet socks again,” she asks, which Harry obliges.

The two climb into the truck and settle in, the atmosphere quickly becoming more intimate than Alani had planned. His vanilla cologne has also become more perceptible in the confined space, and there’s a whiff of spearmint, most likely his gum, that briefly draws her attention to his mouth. She snaps her mind back to the conversation at hand and clears her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she begins, reading his eyes carefully. There’s a faint reassurance behind the emerald surface, so she continues. “For everything that happened last night. You did nothing wrong, please know that,”

Harry wishes he could reach out and comfort her, but he gets the feeling that whatever she’s about to say is important so he doesn’t want to dismiss it.

“It’s hard for me, sometimes, to be around the water,” Alani continues despite the prickling feeling in her eyes. “Because when I was eight years old, I almost drowned,”

The revelation hits Harry like a ton of bricks and all at once he understands. He hadn’t even thought twice about jumping into the water that night, so it didn’t occur to him to rule that out as a possible offense. He understands now that he couldn’t have been more mistaken.

“And I know that has nothing to do with you,” Alani explains, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “Except that it terrified me to think about, you know… if you hadn’t been so lucky,”

Her composure quickly cracks, a single tear spilling down her cheek before she wipes it away with the sleeve of her sweater. This time, Harry does reach a hand out and Alani accepts it gratefully; the warmth of his fingers are a welcome contrast to her icy appendages.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he murmurs as his thumb rubs small circles over the back of her hand.

“But I do,” she sniffles. “Because—”

Alani pauses, unsure of how to finish her thought. Just do what feels right and hope for the best.

“Because I care about you,” she says finally, noticing the way his Adam’s apple bobs at her words.

Harry's jaw tightens at her confession and every muscle in his body longs to bring her close, leaving no inch of space between them, but he lets her lead despite his instincts.

"But it’s also because I care about you that I can’t let this go any further,”

Alani’s words surprise herself just as much as they terrify Harry, but she knows that it’s the right thing to do as soon as it’s done.

“Alani—” Harry starts, all of his worst fears crashing down on him.

“Please, don’t make this harder—”

“Don’t I get a say?” he questions, tightening his grip on her hand, though she still manages to slip away.

Alani runs the free hand through her still damp waves and lets another tear roll down her cheek. “What is there left to say?”

“How about ‘I care about you, too’? How about ‘I want to be with you’?”

“It’s too messy—”

“Everyone has baggage,” Harry defends. “God knows I do, and I would never ask you to carry all of that,”

Alani lets her eyes meet his again; they’re bloodshot and glossy, which sends a pang of guilt and sorrow through her entire body.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she reasons, this time thinking not only about her own issues, but about everything—the lies she had told and the ambitions she was still nurturing. She hadn’t given up on her dreams and unless Rolling Stone had suddenly changed their mind about the Joni Mitchell piece, there was only one way she was going to achieve them. Alani hadn’t yet reconciled the fact that she would have to put aside her own feelings for Harry to get what she wanted, but she knew that time would heal the wounds.

“All I want,” he continues. “Is a chance. And I know nothing I do will ever change the past, but two hands make the load lighter. So, please, let me carry some of that with you. Give me a chance,”

As she studies the pleading in his eyes, something stirs deeply inside Alani’s chest. She had started the day thinking only of him, but with selfish intentions. Now, she was trying to do right by him, having realized that she couldn’t have both him and the story that would launch her career. Something would have to give, and Harry deserved more than that. He deserved more than her. Despite all of this awareness, there is something else nagging in the back of her mind that she can’t ignore. Don’t walk away, it screams. If Alani ignored her true feelings for Harry and refused his plea, she would be walking away from someone who believed in her, someone who cared deeply for, and wanted to understand, her. Perhaps the universe truly had brought Harry for a story, but to be a part of hers instead of the one she had been so eager to publish. There would be other chances, just like Dr. Hudson had said, but there would never be anyone else like Harry. So with this in mind, Alani decides to stop walking away and stand still, right in this very moment, with the boy who shined brighter than the sun itself and who had only asked for a chance to make her happy.

“Okay,” she breathes and it’s like the weight of the universe has been lifted from her shoulders.

Harry leans in, their foreheads pressed together gently, and cups her cheek in his hand.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

Alani nods and nudges the tip of his nose with her own. “Please.”

Their lips meet like electrically charged magnets, with a force so natural and strong it sends bolts of electrons through their entire bodies. Harry’s mouth is warm and gentle against hers, and the coolness of his mint gum soothes the searing touch of his kiss. Alani’s fingers glide up his chest and along the sides of his neck, pulling him closer as if he’s the anchor keeping her from floating away into the dark clouds above them. Over and over again, their lips collide fervently, breaths mixing and filling each other’s lungs. Their hands eagerly explore the curves of each other’s faces, the softness of hair, and the occasional heat of exposed skin. Harry is the first to break the kiss, panting lightly as he pulls back to search Alani’s face.

“Y’okay?” he asks.

“Never been better.”

next chapter

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles x oc #solo harry #one direction #ybmh

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sunnysidevans · 4 years

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐞 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

Summary: Ransom has time to reflect on his relationship with you and all the things he put you and your relationship through.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: fluff ngl, curse words, legal words, mostly fluff not gonna lie, mean mothers? , oh and of course angst

AuthorsNote: Hiii! I hope everyone enjoys this! i wasn’t planning to write a second part to this fic but this idea has sat in my brain for a bit not gonna lie, so I hope you enjoy! also disclaimer , I know nothing about law, I could have gotten all of this wrong and for that I”m sorry I did my best :)

PART ONE

READERS POINT OF VIEW

ONE YEAR AGO

Fall was always a hard season to deal with, no matter what when september rolled around you always struggled with fall. Thinking about ransom was hard, you held him tightly in your heart as even the asshole he was you still held him close, he was the love of your life. You hated fall and the smell of pine, smelling a pine candle in the store made you tear up and leave the groceries in the aisle you were in. Fall was beautiful in Massachusetts, the color changing leaves along with the sweater wearing weather really did you in, really the only thing keeping you in Massachusetts anyways. You sat under the blanket in the living room holding a nice hot cup of coffee,watching the news, you couldn’t bear to watch much as they continued to throw ransom’s name and family through the dirt, were they perfect? Of course not. The alarm you set on your phone had pinged for you as it led you to sighing and getting out from your cozy sherpa blanket and to go up and start getting dressed, leaving the hot cup of coffee behind.

After getting dressed you managed to throw yourself together, popping in your contacts and putting on minimal makeup as you know you would be just crying it off anyways. As you dumped your coffee out in the sink you thought of the past with Ransom, he may not have been a perfect boyfriend but you certainly did not expect to be with him for almost two years. You managed to get yourself around, purse and coat before sighing heavily, grabbing your keys and leaving the front door. You hated that even after everything he did you were still haunted by the drysdale family. Pulling into the courthouse you managed to snag a semi decent parking space and making your way through the cameras and the family as they watched with dirty looks at the top of the stairs of the court house. Making your way in the courthouse you snuck between everyone to make it to the front of the courtroom, no one was there yet, the main someone being Ransom, you weren’t quite ready to face him. You walked through the gate and set your briefcase down along with the rest of your belongings, as you did so, the judge walked in and ransom in his orange jumpsuit followed suit.

You tried to avoid eye contact as you unpacked all of your paperwork, you couldn’t even keep a straight face as you bit back the tears, this was not what you wanted. “Okay, shall we begin?” the judge asked,sitting down as the recorder stood “The start of the case of The state of Massachusetts versus Hugh Ransom Drysdale”. You held your head high as the judge motioned for you to begin,you sighed nodding turning to the jury “this was no, innocent act ladies and gentleman” you began approaching the jury box “Hugh Drysdale had every intention of making sure this looked like an accident on a poor innocent nurse” you folded your hands together “Hugh knew his grandfather was cutting him from the Will, he knew that the whole inheritance was going to the one friend his grandfather had, his nurse.” you let out a sigh as you avoided all eye contact with ransom and his lawyers. “Hugh Drysdale planned on killing his grandfather, he didn’t plan the second murder to follow, the house keeper, who just was in the wrong place at the wrong time” you nodded out to the court. “Hugh wanted all of this to fall on the innocent nurse, all for one thing, family greed”.

Court lasted hours, The trial had started sooner than it ended. The proceeding lasted for about two hours before a recess was called. You stood outside the courthouse holding a cup of cocoa between your hands “I hope you're proud of yourself” someone spit behind you as you turned there stood ransom’s mom, Linda. “Mrs.Drysdale..” you started as she cut you off “It’s Thrombey” she turned,crossing her arms over her chest watching you “oh- I’m very sorry to hear that” you looked at her nodding “and no i’m not proud of myself, I would much rather be on any other case but this is the one they gave me,I would much rather be at home than prosecuting my ex boyfriend” you spit watching her face closely “well” she rolled her eyes adjusting her coat “I don’t want my son to go to jail” she sighed “it’s disgusting in that place” she mumbled crossing her arms again “richard isn’t even coming because he thinks I’m crazy for helping him” she sighed shaking her head “my son going to jail is completely your fault” she seethed,turning and walking back into the court house.

The judge called court again after about three hours, “Judge Marks Residing” the recorder stated as everyone stood, you stood adjusting your skirt watching as the judge came in and sat down. “This case is a strange one for my courtroom, and took a long time to decide this ruling” she nodded “can our head juror please stand” she motioned to the jury box as a gentleman stood holding a piece of paper. “Okay” she nodded again “and what is the ruling with the jury?” she asked as he spoke up “the vote was fifty fifty your honor, split down the middle undecided” he spoke holding the paper “but we had our tie breaker” he nodded quickly to her “okay and what is the jury’s ruling?” the judge asked sitting up “in the case of The state of Massachusetts versus Hugh Ransom Drysdale, we rule guilty”.

PRESENT DAY

Standing in the parking lot staring at the Massachusetts Correctional doors you thought about turning back, turning around and running out to your car, you couldn’t believe you had agreed to this. You walked inside with a heavy sigh and approached the check in desk, “can I help you?” the guard at the desk asked, “I’m here to see an intimate” you adjusted your coat “okay and what inmate are you here to see?” he asked typing things into the computer “oh uh, Hugh Drysdale”. You walked through the building to the visiting area to wait for ransom, the guard showed you to a seat as you sat down,crossing your legs over the other as you looked around the room, it was gray, and very bleak, holding no color in the gray walls. The doors beeped down the hall as you sat up and soon coming around the corner was none other than the love of your life, in the god forsaken orange jumpsuit.

Ransom sat down as you sat up to meet him,elbows resting on the table as you looked at one another he sighed “you actually came”. You nodded looking at your hands, picking at the hangnail starting to form around your thumbs, soon being covered with ransom’s hand, surprisingly just as soft and comforting as you remembered “I did” you whispered,looking up to meet his baby blues. “I’m really glad you came” he whispered,taking your hand into his fully,giving it a squeeze “why am I here ransom?” you asked looking at him,squeezing his hand back in comfort as he smiled “I.. haven't seen anyone in a while, my mom she stopped visiting after the first visit, I didn’t even think you’d read my letter let alone come see me” he whispered watching as you chewed on your lip,nodding. “I’m very sorry you haven’t had a visitor ransom” you whispered looking over his face smiling softly at him “no matter the crime you committed, that's not fair to you, I just was surprised to hear from you” you nodded as he chuckled “you are?” he asked you in a bit of shock, You nodded in response chuckling “ransom I’m kinda the reason you're in here, I did kinda represent the state in your case” you looking at him as he quickly shook his head “you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t have too, I know that” he started biting his lip.

Talking to ransom took hours, you were surprised the guards had left you alone for so long but finally after two hours it all came to an ending. “Okay Drysdale, lets go” the guard sighed walking to the table, helping ransom up, “wait” ransom protested standing and walking over to you,kissing the top of your head with a whisper “Thank you for coming to visit me (Y/N), I can’t thank you enough for this” he whispered again turning for them to cuff him again. Watching the love of your life walk away was hard, before he got far you got up quickly walking to meet him “ransom!” you yelled, as he turned to face you “You can keep.. Writing to me if it helps” you smiled as he smiled back with a nod “that would be nice, and maybe you can keep coming to see me?” he asked hopeful “eh maybe” you grinned sending him a wink as he walked past the steel doors.

Walking out of Massachusetts Correctional you thought many things, how good Ransom looked after not seeing him for almost two years, along with the way his demeanor was so much different than the last time you saw him. You climbed in your car and drove down the road with the radio playing softly, you couldn’t help but feel horrible for the things Ransom was experiencing, the loneliness he felt that his mother wasn’t coming to visit. You hummed along with the radio as you drove, and as you drove you realized, yeah you did deserve better than that cable knit wearing asshole but maybe, just maybe you saw a change, you felt the change, and yeah you did deserve better but maybe that better was just, a better him.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans x you #chris evans angst #ransom thrombrey #hugh ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey imagine #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale angst #knives out #hugh ransom

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bexterbex · 3 years

Text

Masking the Heart | Ch. 8

A new galactic war was forming, and your star system needed to create an alliance. Your father, the king, made a deal with the First Order in a promise of protection for guaranteed trade. You are arranged to marry the Commander Kylo Ren, apprentice of the Supreme Leader. A man who is hidden behind his mask. Will your husband show you his heart? Or will it be forever hidden behind a mask?

No tag lists | Masterlist

*Note: The author of this work does not condone arranged marriage practices, domestic abuse, or non-con sexual encounters, this work is for fictional uses only.*

Chapter 8

You woke up rather refreshed but felt a chill over you, alone. But that was no different than any other morning. Feeling a small pang realizing you would not see him for a few days at least. You got up and got dressed, this time in something warmer than usual, your body now missing the feeling of another’s warmth. His warmth. You entered the main living space and went about your usual routine.

But something out the window kept calling to you, you knew he was out there somewhere among the stars, and it drew your attention in. The black darkness of space reminded you of him, as did the silver stars. Both represented his mask to you, his helmet that was… a part of him as he said. You pondered that for a while before your datapad pinged with a message notification.

Princess Ren,

I will be meeting with you tomorrow at 1000 sharp. We will discuss what future the Supreme Leader and I have in-store for you. I ask that you look impeccable for this meeting, as your image will need to be used.

General Armitage Hux

Commanding Officer of the Finalizer and Star Killer Base

You pondered over the message before responding in kind. You wondered what use he and the Supreme Leader had for your image, your face. In the last few months, you wondered if you were ever as beautiful as people said. Surely you weren’t if your husband didn’t comment on it? You remembered both women and men fawning over you in your late teen to early adult years. But were they just saying so because you were a princess?

Getting up you walked over to the mirror and gazed upon your image in the reflection and examined it from a variety of angles, noting which features came from your mother and which from your father, both of whom were handsome. You weren’t quite what they splashed all over the fashion scene in the galaxy, but magazines always flocked to know what you were wearing. You were a princess, after all, and one whose father controlled an important system.

You squared up your shoulders and nodded to yourself in confidence, if it was your image they wanted to use then you would make both your parents and your husband proud. You immediately went into the refresher and got to work giving yourself a spa treatment overhaul. Hair, skin, nails, everything. If you could help it, you wanted to be the most radiant being in the galaxy.

By the time you were finishing up, you received another message from General Hux.

Princess Ren,

I have been instructed by the Commander to tell you to eat. It appears that you did not eat lunch. I understand that some women in this galaxy forgo meals for the sake of vanity, but I assure you it isn’t necessary when I asked you to look impeccable. Please eat, so the Commander may focus on his mission.

General Armitage Hux

Commanding Officer of the Finalizer and Star Killer Base

So Kylo was somehow keeping tabs on you? Once again you didn’t purposely or spitefully miss lunch, but simply time got away from you. So you ordered a meal from the datapad and fired off a quick response to the General. Within minutes, a droid delivered your dinner. You had yet to receive this prompt of service from one. It made you wonder if either your husband or the General had put your order in as a priority.

You ate, but before you had a droid take the plate away, you took a photo on the datapad and sent a message to your husband.

Commander Ren,

As per the attached photo, I have eaten. It has been requested by General Hux that you focus on your mission.

Princess Ren

Wife to the Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

You received a response a few moments later, and you were not expecting it.

Dear Princess Ren,

Good.

And tell the General that it is of no concern of his on whether or not I am focused. I will complete the mission.

Commander Kylo Ren

Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

You chucked at his response, that even through a message and through you he was not above being snarky to the General. You brought the datapad up to your chest and hugged it, knowing hopefully he was somewhere near his, or at least whatever he chose to communicate with. The dear in front of your name and the concern for your health was not lost on you, he was warming up to you, even if it seems like only a drop compared to an iceberg.

You spent the rest of the day finishing your spa routine; you had been interrupted during your finishing tasks, but you saw no harm in taking longer than initially expected. By the time dinner rolled around, a droid had already delivered your next meal before you ordered it. Given the rather limited menu, you had a habit of only ordering a few different options, and the droid informed you that it made the meal choice based on these habits. You thanked it before it left.

Once finished you decided to send another photo to take another photo and sent it to your husband,

Commander Ren,

Again as per the attached photo, I have eaten.

Princess Ren

Wife to the Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

It took a few moments, but you received a response from him, but it wasn’t a text response. It was an audio response, 5 seconds in total.

You could hear his voice, “Good” and the sounds of fighting around him, you could clearly hear the sounds of blaster fire. But he sounded normal, not hurried, or rushed. He was hopefully in the middle of whatever mission he was supposed to be on. You also hoped that the sounds of battle might mean that he would be home sooner versus later.

You played the sound over and over throughout the evening, taking the datapad with you into bed as you kept hitting the play button as you fell asleep. Tonight wasn’t going to be as difficult as you thought it was going to be.

In the morning you awoke to your normal alarm. You didn’t quite remember taking the datapad with you, but it was there. You hit the play button again. “Good” rang out, you tried to imagine the word morning after it. Like he was saying good morning to you. You got yourself ready for the day, for the mysterious meeting that you had with General Hux.

Nothing too heavy, nothing too overtly natural, but the makeup brought out your true features. After applying your face, you made yourself a quick breakfast and sent off an empty bowl photo to Kylo.

Commander Ren,

Again, as per the attached photo, I have eaten. Good Morning.

Princess Ren

Wife to the Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

While in the middle of making sure your hair was perfect, you heard the familiar ding of a datapad notification. Your heart raced hoping your husband had responded, but it was just an automatic meeting invitation from General Hux informing you the time and location of your meeting. Nothing from Kylo. You pushed accept on the invite and finished doing your hair. Once you were dressed, you had only a few minutes before a stormtrooper was supposed to come and escort you to the meeting.

You sat down in the living room waiting for a message to appear in your inbox. A message that didn’t come, because your doorbell rang. You got up and greeted your escort, who informed you to follow them. They were both rather tall, you could tell you were being escorted by an officer given the red shoulder plate. While the other was some mystery rank. You couldn’t really be bothered at that moment to pay enough attention to them. You paid more attention to your surroundings.

You and your escort didn’t weave and move about the halls as others did, no you took a straight path and others moved around you. You watched lower-ranking enlisted and officers salute you as you walked passed, or bow their heads in acknowledgment and keep walking. A whole section of ‘troopers stopped off an adjacent hallway as you passed. Unlike the officers and enlisted, their heads were trained forward and didn’t budge. The leader of the section acknowledged you for them. Once you passed, they kept moving down the hall in perfect marching fashion.

You finally reached the large conference room where your meeting with the General was to take place. Upon entering, you noticed you weren’t alone. There were a number of officers and enlisted moving around the room, setting up some sort of broadcasting station.

“Ah Princess Ren, I’m glad you could make it,” said General Hux as he turned to you, still directing the others in where to go and what to do. “We would like to make some holovids of you, encouraging the galaxy to join the First Order. And possibly a few to boost morale amongst the ranks.” You could see them finishing up with the set that you were going to record from.

“This is what the Supreme Leader wants me to do,” you ask. You studied the General’s face carefully.

He gave a small smirk before informing you, “Yes, it is exactly the reason why he wanted someone to take your hand in marriage, it just so happened that Commander Ren was his choice. But he wanted you to be one of the public faces of the First Order. A role that I think you are quite suited for.” His compliment and mention of the Supreme Leader’s choice in marriage was not lost on you.

“Commander Ren was his choice? Choice meaning there were others?” You were curious now, you wondered just how many candidates had been weeded out before the decision was to have Kylo marry you. You knew it was an arranged marriage, but you didn’t know how arranged it was.

The General almost preened himself in front of you, squaring his shoulders and lifting his head high. “I was one,” you could see the twinkle of superiority in his eyes as he said this. “As were most high-ranking generals. But in the end, it came down to just three: myself, Commander Ren, and an older general named Pryde,” he paused. “You should be very grateful Pryde was not chosen.”

You hesitated for a moment before asking, “And do you know why you were eliminated?” You tried to imagine yourself being married to the General. He would probably be a better overall communicator, but you briefly reflected on what his ability would be as a lover. In that regard, while harsh, you were thankful for Kylo’s sheer size and strength.

The General cleared his throat in a mock disgust for a moment, before clarifying for you, “That may have been my fault. In my thoroughness in planning, I had mentioned to the Supreme Leader that Commander Ren had qualities that needed to be passed on through offspring. Whereas I do not have those same qualities.” You watched as a lower-ranking officer stepped forward to tell General Hux that the preparations were complete.

You thought for a moment what qualities he might speak of, “You mean use of the Force, don’t you?”

The General turned his head towards you, you could see the slight wash of offense taking his face. “Precisely,” he said through gritted teeth. In a split second his entire demeanor changed, “Why don’t you head on over to the set and we can get started.” His eyes followed you, “All you simply need to do is follow the directions on the teleprompter. It will tell you what to say, and when to smile, pause, etcetera. We can also take as many takes as you want. The biggest thing to remember is that you are now a princess within the First Order and people look up to you.”

You nodded in response, eyes drifting towards the teleprompter, watching as it ques up your first script. You would be speaking to the general public, you repeated in your head just before you spoke, ‘your duty was to the crown and its people,’ and your people now included the First Order.

You took a deep breath, “Good citizens of the galaxy. I know that the last few decades have been filled with uncertainty, instability, and hardship after the fall of the Empire. But I assure you there is hope on the horizon. The First Order looks to lead the galaxy back to order and concord. I implore you to respond to their requests and to contact your planetary representatives to arrange for an agreement and truce with the First Order. I ask that you join me in a new tomorrow.”

Many of the next speeches were like the first, nothing with too much substance but rather a large call to order, to join the First Order. At noon you took a break for lunch, to which you requested if someone could fetch your datapad for you. When it was safely in your hands, you saw that you had a message from your husband. It was another audio message. You took out the earbuds that were stored in the device and listened to the message.

His voice rang out, no background sounds this time, somehow it sounded as if he had just woken up. As if you could really tell the difference through the vocoder. “Good, and good morning.” You got exactly what you wanted, a good morning. You hit replay a few times before you remembered that you were not in your own quarters. Returning the earbuds to the device, you snapped a photo of your empty plate.

Commander Ren,

Again, as per the attached photo, I have eaten. The special request of me from the Supreme Leader seems to be going well.

Princess Ren

Wife to the Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

You heard the General clear his throat. You looked up at him after hitting send. “Yes, General? I believe we have a bit of time before we get back to recording.”

He leaned forward as if to let you in on a secret. “I find it interesting that you send photos of your plate to the Commander? Some sort of fetish that I don’t know about?”

You stared at him briefly, before responding: “No, I sent him photos of my meal because I have a habit of forgetting to do so, and this concerns him. He has not requested for me to do such as I do, but it is a way for me to know that he is alive and for him to know that I am.” Really, it was probably the most consistent communication you had with him, and it wasn’t anything to laugh at.

“Interesting. You know he can watch you through the surveillance system that is in your quarters? If he were to be concerned with such a thing. There is no need to bother him with messages.” He scoffed at you. You couldn’t tell whether he hated your marriage with Kylo or if he had rather been the one married to you.

The thought of a surveillance system made you stop. Could he just watch you whenever he wanted? Where ever he wanted? Did that system include the bathroom too? Was it just in real-time or could he go back and watch anything? Your previous encounters? A chill went down your spine, but you squared up your shoulders and asked, “You had mentioned that this,” you gestured to the set, “wasn’t something that Commander Ren wanted. Why is that?”

The General rolled his eyes and rather sneered back, “I do not pretend to know the Commander’s motives, but I do have to say that it may have something to do with keeping your face presentable to the public. As you and I both know that the Supreme Leader has asked of him such. But Ren is also very possessive. I believe even in his twisted sense he wanted to keep you from the galaxy, but mind you it isn’t in any romantic sense, because you are now a broadcasted weakness. Half the galaxy will have a target on your back. And whether or not he likes it, the agreement between your father and the Supreme Leader does require you to be alive.”

Caught in-between time stopping and your blood boiling. You wanted to be filled with rage; you wanted to bite back that it was more than just the order keeping you alive. Hoping that your husband had been warming up to you. But you remembered, ‘royalty never wears their hearts on their sleeve.’ You cooled your features, “Thank you for your input general, it has been taken into consideration.” You got up and headed towards the podium to finish the other recordings.

The rest of the time went in a blur. You had rather compartmentalized the General’s words, for now, focusing on your objective. But before you began the last recording you datapad rang out with a notification.

You looked to a younger officer, “Hand it to me.”

There was a written message sent this time.

Dear Princess Ren,

It appears I may return sooner than originally planned. Tonight. Late. Eat First.

Commander Kylo Ren

Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

You turned towards the General and simply responded, “It seems he was able to complete his mission early, even with distractions.” Before handing your datapad back to the officer and completing the last recording. The General had a look of disgust written across his face at the information.

Once finished with the recordings, you took your datapad back and were promptly escorted by the same two ‘troopers back to your quarters. Everything had to be right for your husband’s return, so you ordered the cleaning droid to come to get your sheets. You made dinner for yourself and dessert that you were hoping to share with him, so you made extra. But you misjudged how late he would be as midnight rolled around. You got ready for bed.

A/N: So um, sorry for disappearing for like 7-8 months. A lot has happened, a new full-time job, a new city/apartment, and yeah I've been juggling with it. I won't have a consistent up load schedule, but I am hoping to remain motivated. So fingers crossed, and I am already working on the next chapter. Thanks for hanging in there I appreciate all the kind and positive comments!

#kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo x reader #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #kylo ren x you #kylo x you #masking the heart #star wars imagine #sw first order imagine

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #369

“so close, no matter how far / couldn’t be much more from the heart / forever trusting who we are / and nothing else matters”

What are three emotions you experience regularly? Sadness, shame, and stress. Is there someone right now whom you really wish would care for you? -___- Does your job allow visible tattoos? I don’t have a job, but quite honestly, I probably wouldn't take a job that didn't. I just love tattoos a lot and plan on having many, and ignorance and old-fashioned bullshit isn't gonna stop me. Do you know anyone that’s transgender? Yes. Do you think dress codes are unfair? In some places, like schools, yes. Are in a relationship? Tell me about it. I'm not. How is your road rage? I don't have road rage. By god does my sister, though. Favorite cosmetic brands? I don't wear makeup nearly enough to have a preference. The beach or the pool? The pool. I hate the feeling of sand, plus the salty wind and heat. Manga or anime? Anime. Favorites for manga? I've never read any. It's tempting to read Deadman Wonderland since it continues off the very short anime, but I just don't want to. Manga isn't my style. Favorites for anime? Fullmetal Alchemist (including Brotherhood), Ginga Densetsu Weed, and Deadman Wonderland. Favorite academic subject? English. A card game that you’re good at? I'm not exceptionally good at any. Do you eat breakfast? Pretty much always. A popular book you haven’t read yet? To Kill A Mockingbird, to name one I feel like everyone had to read in school. Do you like sweaters? I'm an oversized hoodie person, really. I don't like the look of zippers. Do you like sushi? Never tried it, never will. Do you wear prescription glasses? Yes. I badly need a new pair, because I can't see for shit. Generally, are you more likely to blame others or yourself for problems you experience? Myself. What is one thing about your life that you don’t ever see changing, even if you might wish it would? I have a feeling I'll always have some degree of social anxiety. I'm sure there are other things just not coming to me. At what point in your life have you been the most social or had the most friendships? And at which point have you been the least social? I had the most friends in my childhood years, probably. Or high school when I actually had a friend group. I'm sure I was most social as a kid in elementary school, not dealing with my social anxiety. I've been the least social like... now, honestly. I go essentially nowhere and have very few friends. Do you prefer to have a few close friends or a bunch of random acquaintances? Which would describe what you have now? I want close friends. I have like... two or so close friends and a handful of acquaintances. I don't know which I have "more" of when you consider the actual level of friendship/"quality" I guess. Do you journal? Generally, what do you write about? Do you find it helpful to get your thoughts out that way, or do you prefer another form of self-expression? I don't actually journal, but you could consider these surveys my "journal." I guess it's kinda why I do them so frequently? Like it lets me get stuff that's going on out, so I find it kinda therapeutic versus keeping all my thoughts jumbled up in my head. Have you ever been somewhere and REALLY didn't like a food that you were expected to eat? How did you deal with this? Are you someone who is likely to suck it up and be polite or refuse and save your taste buds? To start off, I am VERY bad at sucking it up and eating something I don't like. My gag reflex is very strong, and I'm also extremely sensitive to textures I don't like, so my reactions are just very involuntary. I can try to subdue my expression when I dislike something, buuut that's extremely difficult. But anyway, yes, I've been to places where I definitely disliked the food, especially this one occasion where we went to a local Southern cooking restaurant that literally ASSUMED you want the staple foods and sweet tea, none of which I enjoy. While everyone else was eating, I just very awkwardly sat there doing nothing and pretty much panicking over looking rude. Thank god, Ashley's father-in-law noticed and called over the waiter for me to actually order something, the way it should be. I was very thankful but still felt bad. What is one way in which you compare yourself to others? In this comparison, do you regard yourself as better or worse off than the people to whom you usually do the comparing? I am very bad and comparing successes with others, but only in ways that demeans me. Like I look at others and am just like, "Why aren't I there yet?" It always leads to anger and disgust of myself. What is something you’ve been particularly grateful for lately? I've thought a lot lately about how thankful I am to have my mom. She does so very much for me, and I don't think I could absolutely ever repay her in full. I wish I could. She's a damn superhero. What kind of change or opportunity would be the biggest help in your life right now? I was initially going to say getting a job, but thinking about it, getting to my goal weight might be an even greater help. It would help my leg pain, not having to carry as much around, I'm sure my hyperhidrosis wouldn't be as bad (I hope), and it would MASSIVELY affect my happiness. Like I cannot tell you how negatively my weight has damaged my self-esteem, confidence, and peace with myself. Is there one emotion that you experience more often than any other? Is there an emotion you rarely ever experience? I'd say I experience stress more than anything. I'm always thinking of something that's causing a ruckus in my life. A rare emotion for me is uhhhh jealousy, even though I've dealt with it more lately. What is one illness you are afraid of having? Do you know anyone who has faced this illness? The disease that I think scares me more than any is Alzheimer's/dementia. I just... cannot possibly imagine. How do you tend to behave when you’re sick? What kinds of things do you like people to do for you, if anything, to help you feel better? I'm very mopey and tired, and I can be a bit more irritable. I really, really appreciate help with things like chores when I'm not feeling well. When was the last time you did something you were proud of? Were other people proud of you as well? Does it matter to you whether or not other people care about your accomplishments, or is your own satisfaction enough? It's a very small thing, but I weaned down from having two cans of soda a day to just one. Mom is proud of me for it, which I appreciate a lot. Admittedly, it does kinda matter to me that those who know it's a big deal to me see and care about my accomplishments. I'm bad about needing external validation. What is your least favorite thing about the season you’re currently experiencing? Are you okay with most types of weather, or are you only happy under certain conditions? Ugh, the heat. Spring and summer are miserable to me because I veeery much love the chilly weather and no damn humidity. Have you made any changes to your style or “look” lately? How often do you change your appearance, hairstyle, fashion, etc? Or is it a pretty constant thing? No; my style is pretty constant. What was the last thing you felt hopeful about? Do you think there’s a good chance of whatever-it-is working out in your favor, or not so much? Getting a job at the tattoo parlor. I'm fearful that they won't be open to the position I'd like, so I'm trying to not get my hopes up too high. We'll find out in two days. Have you ever “recovered” from anything? What does “recovery” mean or look like to you? Yes, a traumatic breakup. I'd say recovery is just healing as much as possible from something, be it physical or emotional. What are some ways your childhood differed from those of others around you? Do you think this difference was harmful or advantageous in the long run? My dad was an alcoholic, if that qualifies. That definitely isn't a *normal* thing for someone's childhood. I think it was harmful, honestly, especially because I've had more than a few nightmares about my dad drunk. When was the last time you did something out in nature? Do you notice a dip in your mood when you don’t get enough of the Great Outdoors? Oh jeez... Probably not since Sara and I went catfishing with my dad. I wandered around with her some as she ventured for toads, haha. I don't really notice a dip in my mood, just because I'm so used to being indoors. I do prefer getting some time with nature, it's just hard and uncomfortable with how easy I sweat, and my knees sure do cuss me the fuck out in the form of a billion cracks if I walk much (by my standards...). What did you dream about last night? I had two dreams, but I only remember one, in which a giant green tree python was eating me backwards so I was conscious through it all. No hard feelings, I still want one as a pet, haha. They're GORGEOUS snakes and no, absolutely cannot eat you even if it tried its damnedest. What were your childhood dreams? To be a paleontologist, then a vet. What are your dreams now? If we're talking career-wise, to be a nature and wildlife photographer that gets to travel a lot. What are some Halloween costumes you would like to wear in the future? I've mentioned that #1 on my list is Ms. Oogie Boogie, then uhhhh... wow, I'm surprised I'm blanking, because I know there are lots I've thought of. Were you born with hair on your head? Yes. Would you rather have a home birth or hospital birth? I'm not having kids, but holy mother of fuck I'd have my baby at a hospital with a goddamn epidural. I do NOT know how some people can do it naturally, bigass props to them. Do you currently live in the house you grew up in? No. If not, what do you miss about it?^ It was just in general a nice house, the best one we've lived in. We had a pretty big yard too, so lots of room to play around as kids. What’s your favorite type of yogurt? I'm not a big yogurt person, really. What were your high school’s team colors? Red and white. Who were your best friends in high school? Hannia, Girt, Maria, Megan, Dennis, Dakota... What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? A tarantula. *puppy eyes emoji* Were there any subjects in school that were really easy for you? If so, what? English courses were very easy for me, and I was pretty good with science. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? Not like, a whole grade, but I surpassed Writing I in my last college endeavor and started out in Writing II instead. What’s your favorite rock band? Oh brother, you can't ask me this. Who’s your favorite country singer? I consistently like Tim McGraw a bit. How many drawers does your dresser have? My dresser is unnecessarily big. There's like five or six. Have you ever taken a picture at the perfect moment? Yes. One of my favorite pictures I've taken was at Ashley's gender reveal for Emerson; even she didn't know. When her husband pulled the fog thing and it was pink, her expression was just priceless. Was your first car used or new? I haven't had my first personal car. How did you discover your favorite band? By going through my mom's CDs when I was getting into rock music. Ozzy was the first truly metal and not rock band that I ventured into. What was the last big decision you made? BIG decision... I don't know. Probably dropping out of college. What is your favorite thing to go shopping for? I love window shopping for pets online, haha. What was the last thing you changed your mind about? A political stance. Who was the last friend you saw, and what did you do together? Oh yikes, it's been more than a while... It may have been Girt? In which case we probably watched TV or played board games together. Who tends to show up in your dreams? Do you ever wonder if you appear in anyone else’s dreams? Jason just loves to show up in my dreams more than anyone else. I don't really wonder that, no. What is something you wish you could say to someone who is no longer in your life, or something you wish they could know? I wish I could tell Bryar (Jason's friend I got in a fight with) I misunderstood something he said to me ("martyr" has two different definitions, and I somehow didn't know the modern one at the time) that made me seem like an absolute, attention-seeking bitch. It's so fucking embarrassing to look back on, because I agreed with him because I thought he meant it as I would die for my beliefs, which is true. What worries you most about your future? Whether or not I'll ever be in the physical shape I want to be in again. Or if I'll have a stable job. What is something you do to feel better when you’re scared? Find distractions, like funny YouTube videos. I also engage in deep breathing and grounding methods. What is the strangest book you have ever read? How did you find out about it? Oh my god, in elementary school, we read a book where everything a boy touched turned to chocolate. Weird book. Do you prefer to watch movies or tv alone or with other people? Is there anything you refuse to watch alone? Other people, definitely. I like having someone to talk to and comment on what we're watching. There's nothing I won't watch alone. What was the subject of the last video you watched? It was a let's play.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''nothing else matters'' by metallica

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stopgenderingchildren · 4 years

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I’m 16 and have known I didn’t fit the idea of “gender” very well for around a decade, but grew up in a left leaning college educated Mexican/ white household that didn’t really force gender roles on me, so I didn’t question it much until around four years ago.

I grew up a tomboy- at 13 I came out as ftm trans. Soon after, my best friend (who I’ll adore forever) came out as ftm trans as well, but didn’t approach it as I had- reading articles, listening to podcasts, scrolling through educational videos- he latched on instead to people like Kalvin Garrah and similar influencers who propose that “transtrenders” exist and steal “real” trans people’s supplies and that you need dysphoria to be trans, etc.

This was the first time I really became aware that there was something deeply flawed in my understanding of gender. I have dysphoria, but the more I thought about it the more I realized I don’t hate my body; I hate how people see my breasts and assign me “female.” I don’t hate dresses and how they look, I hate that it means automatically no one asks for my pronouns.

Tonight I was working on an oratory for debate that started with a central idea I wanted to expand: “We Don’t Need to Fit Your Stereotypes.” I felt that if male could look like dresses and cars and makeup and video games and childcare, if female could look like gardening and beards and owning a business and loving pink, then maybe there wouldn’t need to be transitioning. If we made breasts=anyone and penises=anyone then maybe I would wear a dress everyday and my friend would be able to shower with the lights on.

Basically, I was trying to say ask everyone, everyone, their pronouns, and allow people’s looks and hobbies to be defined by their interests rather than the roles forced on them at birth as a result of their genitals. This contradicted with my central idea, so new title: “We Don’t Need to Fit Stereotypes.” I’m no longer writing about trans versus cis norms, I’m trying to write about all people versus the (at best, limiting) rules of gender forced upon them.

After exploring that (and after realizing what I think I’ve always knows is true: I’m not a boy, but just someone severely disconnected from whatever a boy or girl is supposed to be and generally masculine by societal standards, making he/him the easiest explanation) I had to take a break, and somehow @stopgenderingchildren was the first post recommended for me. After scrolling through for awhile, I felt like I’d found a whole rabbit hole of some new level of gender I’ve only briefly considered before, of thoughts I’ve always struggled to put into words.

After this night, I still have questions though, and unfortunately the ask box just doesn’t have nearly enough characters. The main things I’m still struggling to understand is: what is womanhood? What is manhood? If no one were gendered and lived life by personalities, why would there ever be a need for those two at all, or masculinity or femininity? What stops life from just... going on if people dressed and acted and were interested in what they want to be? What is the point of this thing that causes people so much pain? Even in things like athletics, split up to “help,” there are still people with different amounts of hormones, different heights, people are just different. And it’s all so incredibly westernized. I’ve read Delusions of Gender by Cordelia Fine, and there was a striking story about a trans woman who found the more society expected her to not be able to do things like open a jar, the more she found herself unable to do those things.

I don’t know, this is a bit all over the place, but I really just need some direction. I’m trying really hard to understand this on my own, but after scrolling through your blog I’d really like to hear your thoughts. Thanks you so much ahead of time 🌹 ~~~~

Hi awesome person!! Unfortunately this blog is a tad bit dead, but I am still a real person who can write things, and I’m still passionate about gender and child development, so here I am, responding to you. Also I want to apologize because tumblr is broken and I have no idea how long ago this message was sent to me. For all I know, you could be old enough to drink by now. Oops. Thank you for sharing your journey with gender so far. You sound very thoughtful and systematic about these things, and I love it. First I want to say that I'm sorry your friend has such limited thoughts about the ways it's okay to be trans. That kind of exclusionist thinking doesn't actually help more supplies come around, or help binary trans people get acceptance. It just makes it harder for people to work together to change things. That said, I've known some young trans people who held these positions initially because it was part of the way they were proving their gender to themselves and the world. Once they got more secure in their understanding of themselves, they had more room for accepting other types of trans people. I hope that happens for your friend. I felt like I’d found a whole rabbit hole of some new level of gender I’ve only briefly considered before... Wow, awesome. I love that this blog did that for you. I wish I had more time to make it a consistently amazing place! what is womanhood? What is manhood? Each person gets to decide this for themselves. If you ask me, that’s what makes gender exciting!! Everyone is different. We need lots of different people in the world, lots of different genders, lots of different gender expressions, for the world to continue being as amazing as it is. The idea that there are only two types of gender expression, “manhood” and “womanhood,” is and always has been flawed. Humans have always been more diverse than that. We are just, now, in this supercool time when people are spending energy and vocabulary thinking about it in a more active way. If no one were gendered and lived life by personalities, why would there ever be a need for those two at all, or masculinity or femininity? It sure is an interesting concept, to think of life without gender. I don’t personally believe, however, that gender doesn’t exist. I just don’t believe we should be giving children recipes for gender and then expecting them to follow the recipes in order to be “proper” people. That is gendering which is something we do to other people. Gendering others is meddling at best and traumatic at worst, whether those others are children, teens like you, or adults. So, if the world lived according to my values, we would still have gender, but gender would be something that comes from within, not from without. Maybe we would still have two genders that are most common, maybe not. In a patriarchal society, gender definitions can serve an important and protective function, especially for women, trans, and genderqueer folks. As an example, I teach classes for parents about child development. As I am passionate about parents sharing the joys and challenges regardless of their gender, I welcome all parents to my classes. I stand by this decision, but I recently had a chance to observe a similar class that only allowed mothers (women) to attend. I noticed that the women felt more comfortable being vulnerable in this setting, and in particular they felt able to discuss things like how their bodies were changing and healing after giving birth. By excluding certain people based on gender, this instructor created a safe space that was different from my own classes, and probably better for at least some of those women. I imagine a similar effect would be seen in a class that only allowed fathers (men) or trans or genderqueer parents. What stops life from just... going on if people dressed and acted and were interested in what they want to be? What is the point of this thing that causes people so much pain? Even in things like athletics, split up to “help,” there are still people with different amounts of hormones, different heights, people are just different. And it’s all so incredibly westernized. I hear your frustration so much! Why can't we just let people be themselves! And, yes it's super westernized, and that is ridiculous too. But I think all we can do is speak up for ourselves and others when we feel able, and model behavior towards others that isn't gendering, for example using they/them pronouns for people who's gender we don't know, and not making a big deal of a boy wearing a dress. Or, of course, you could do more by choosing a profession where you are teaching children or adults about gender diversity, or working to pass laws that support name changes and freedom to transition. There are lots of ways we could make the world better! I’ve read Delusions of Gender by Cordelia Fine, and there was a striking story about a trans woman who found the more society expected her to not be able to do things like open a jar, the more she found herself unable to do those things. This book sounds awesome. I will check it out! And, yes, people are gendered in a very subconscious way because it starts at birth, before language and verbal (story) memory. There is lots of research showing that we treat babies different based on their assigned gender from the very first day they are born. Creepy... I don’t know, this is a bit all over the place, but I really just need some direction. I’m trying really hard to understand this on my own, but after scrolling through your blog I’d really like to hear your thoughts. Lastly, I just want to say that it sounds like you are on a great path to figuring things out for yourself. Just keep trying things on to see what fits, both metaphorically and literally, if you like :)

It's also okay to not know what labels are best for you, or for you to change your mind, or to sometimes give up on caring. Actually, there are labels for those states too! But not every trans person has dysphoria, or discovers a strong allegiance to a binary (or nonbinary) gender. As I say to the kids I work with, there are just so many ways for people to be, and that is the way it should be.

#gender freedom #raising kids today #gendering of trans* folk #gendering of POC #western gender norms #transgender #any input is appreciated #submission

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chattonlait · 5 years

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Pretty Lies

“When you’re walking across the runway, Adrien, just make sure you hold your chin up, and even if you don’t feel confident, make sure you make long, confident strides.”

“Even if I don’t feel confident, mama?”

His mother’s eyes crinkled, “Even if it’s not real, try to make it real to your audience. They only know you, and the clothes you’re wearing. They don’t know your story.”

A.K.A The fic where Adrien has the worst month of his entire life and it spirals wildly out of his control. Modeling is tough work. Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21142004/chapters/50316563

“When you’re walking across the runway, Adrien, just make sure you hold your chin up, and even if you don’t feel confident, make sure you make long, confident strides.” “Even if I don’t feel confident, mama?” His mother’s eyes crinkled, “Even if it’s not real, try to make it real to your audience. They only know you, and the clothes you’re wearing. They don’t know your story.” Adrien held his head high, took a deep breath and he walked. One confident stride followed the other. Cameras flashed in his peripheral but he was too blinded by the stage lights to see each and every one. His mind wandered, his throat tightened in an impossible way and he blinked back the tears that he knew would give him the perfect en vogue look when the shots released in a few hours. Nobody would think there was something wrong, they’d point at it and go, “That’s just part of the look.” Even if it wasn’t, because he made it real to his audience, and they didn’t know his story. He turned at the end of the runway, flashed a smile that made his eyes crinkle, and walked the other way. His heart felt like it would pound out of his chest at any moment. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again he was backstage. His heart stilled and he walked back to his dressing room, letting the bright lights drown out his feelings.

It had been so long since his mother’s advice rang in his ears. When he first started modeling, he repeated it like a mantra, day after day, shoot after shoot. Sometimes he’d think about it during fencing lessons, and Chinese classes. If he held his head high, and made long confident strides, then he could do everything. The world didn’t need to know what was going on inside his head. He changed out of the runway clothes, hanging them up on their pristine velvet hanger. “Something’s bothering you, kid,” Plagg’s voice broke the cacophony in his head and Adrien turned, smiled, “I’m fine, just stressed, that’s all,” and he shrugged his shoulders like it was the easiest thing in the world, plucking a blonde hair off the shoulder cuff. It was a truly beautiful garment, hand beaded. There was no doubt that his father was a brilliant designer. Plagg floated over to land on his shoulder, face nestling against Adrien’s cheek. He leaned into it, selfishly, and sighed. It was a long day, and the exhaustion weighed heavily upon his shoulders. After that runway shoot, he had to go over to Luka’s to watch their Kitty Action rehearsal (a song that Adrien wasn’t in, something he would forever be grateful for) He enjoyed his time with his friends, and he got it preapproved by his father. That didn’t help explain the anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach, coiling up like a frightened snake. “Okay Mr. Stressed, care to put pants on?” Adrien snorted out a half laugh, “Yeah, I will. Don’t worry. How else am I supposed to show off the Agreste loungewear line?” He rolled his eyes, opening up the box his father had left him. At least it should be comfortable. And it was, he realized as he popped the sweatshirt on, combing his hair artfully back and out of his face. It was still sticky with styling products, falling in loose waves around his head. He took a makeup wipe to his face in an attempt to rid himself of the thick layer of foundation on his face. It halfway worked, and when he looked up at himself he felt like it was okay. Smeared mascara was a look, right? Oh well, he didn’t have time to take off the rest of it. He managed to jump into joggers, and toe his sneakers back on before he was grabbing his bag and rushing through the door. He didn’t stop jogging until he was out of the building, flipping the hood of the sweatshirt up. Plagg stayed by his side, tucked in the space between his neck and shoulder. “That exciting, hmm?” Adrien laughed, genuinely, “It is, it’s practically a sleepover..” Practically? Who was he kidding? It was a sleepover by all sense of the word, and his father actually approved it. His heart beat heavily, not with dread, but with joy. “Ohhh a sleepover! How exciting, did you remember-” “Your camembert, yes Plagg, I remembered your camembert, but you have to stay hidden. I’m only bringing you along because..” “Because anything can happen, I know, I know. And while you listen to your friends write and perform music, I’ll be making the coziest home out of your bag.” “And you call me weird,” he huffed and shook his head. The houseboat was in sight in it’s massive glory. The top of it was lit up with beautiful string lights that reflected against the inky water it sat upon, swaying slightly against the waves. Adrien took a second to compose himself, sucking a deep breath in, and exhaling it slowly. It was just a sleepover, it was so simple, but it was with so many of his friends. Marinette, Alya, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, and Luka. Nino wasn’t able to make it but it would be okay. Head high, confident strides. The text message said to just walk in so he did, and he was greeted with well- a lot- They were laughing in the practice room, it smelt like popcorn and oddly like pancakes. Plagg zipped into his bag and grinned up at him. Adrien swallowed and walked in, laughing nervously. “Sorry I’m late, I tried to get here as fast as I could.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, he really did try to get there quickly, he knew he was quite late though. What if he missed the rehearsal? “I didn’t know you wore makeup during your shoots, Adrien,” Alya was the first one to speak and she sat up from the floor. In seconds she invaded his personal space, swiping a thumb under his eye. Oh right, the smeared mascara. “Well, in shoots I uhm- no? No makeup during shoots but this was ah.. runway and those pictures are like uhm, well you know, super candid and stuff so it’s important to wear makeup so that you look alright from all angles, and you know, this is kind of the debut before the winter collection so it’s a bit more macabre,” he was pressing his fingers together, a nervous tic he’d been told to stop multiple times. He couldn’t help it, Alya was just so close and Adrien’s nerves were still shot from his modeling endeavor Juleka’s head cocks out along with Marinette’s, and Adrien felt heat rise in his cheeks. Was it that weird? “I thought you might be finally trying a punk look,” Juleka said with a smile and a little nod, hiding behind her hair again. Marinette giggled, “It would be an interesting look on you,” and she patted the spot next to her, “Both of you need to come sit!” Adrien nodded and shifted his bag, smiling at Alya. She smirked back at him and led him along. Luka smiled at him and patted the spot next to him. Adrien sat down, succesfully, between Luka and Marinette. “If I did a punk look my father would probably keel over,” he didn’t mean for the joke to come out as dark as it did but even Ivan snickered. “Or have a freaking stroke,” Alya added.

“So he’s still controlling?” Luka asked, and Adrien could only shrug. “Just.. overprotective. Looking different can get you into trouble, I guess? Or get you odd looks, and I do represent his brand.” Marinette sighed, “His very posh, fashion forward brand.” “Exactly!” Adrien leaned forward, crossing his legs and bringing his knee up to his chest, “But I do enjoy the modeling, I’m actually doing something new for the winter line.” “Ooh, you have to spill,” Rose spoke up, and laughed, “The winter shows are always the best! The clothes are sooo avant garde.” Adrien couldn’t remember a time he ever talked about himself so much, maybe as Chat Noir, but that didn’t count. He really did love modeling though, it was so easy for him to talk about.

He nodded to Rose’s comment, and then to Marinette and Juleka’s questioning, wide eyes. “The winter show is always more couture, it’s not about wearable fashion stuff like this,” he fluffs up his sweatshirt, “Which is going to be apart of the new Agreste lounge slash sportswear collection- I digress. The winter shows, it’s where designers from all over the world are assigned a model and they design a fashion piece based off of them. This is going to be the first show that I’m doing just by myself- and on stage in general. I won’t even know which designer I’ll be working with until next week.” “So instead of it being about wearable clothes, it’s basically an art show? Kind of like pop versus Indie?” Luka asked. Adrien nodded, “It’s exactly like that. The Ageste brand is definitely a more commercial brand, but the brand itself hosts smaller designers to come to Paris once a year and show off their art. Every design is made to the model’s body, which means it’s all one of a kind. Whatever I’ll be wearing? It’ll be the only one and that’s.. Exciting.” It was also heart racing. He used to watch his mother walk across those runways, in gowns with multiple tiers, intricate beading, and gorgeous patterns. Gowns that billowed around her and made her look like a floating angel surrounded by twinkling lights. This would be the first year that he walked that stage in her place, there was so much weight to it, emotionally, and publicly. If he screwed up on stage, he wouldn’t hear the end of it from his father. . And he’d disappoint himself, but he would never say that out loud. “That sounds absolutely incredible! So many designers and garments in one place. It must be such a hub of inspiration,” Marinette bounced her fists up and down, “What I’d give to be one of those designers.” Adrien tilted his head, “You could be, one day. They are randomly chosen, and it’s annual. As long as you keep applying, you could totally get in!” “You think so?” “Marinette, I’ve seen your designs, I know so.” Alya elbowed Marinette and Marinette squawked. Everyone laughed and Luka stood back up, Ivan followed. “We’ll all be ready for that winter collection, but in the meantime, why don’t we get some practice done. It’ll help us brainstorm in this creative hour of night. Rose bounced up, “I’ve been working on new lyrics!! Here,” she dug around her bag and handed everyone a piece of printed paper. Adrien shifted to scoot closer to the couch, sitting with his back against the seat, giving the rest of them room to perform with their instruments. He couldn’t focus on the words on the page, and peaked up over the top of it to look at Marinette. She was probably gathering inspiration for the new costume designs for the song. She took out her sketchbook and everything. Adrien leaned in a little closer, watching her pencil move across the page but not really seeing what she was drawing. He wasn’t close enough to tell what exactly it was. A bodysuit, maybe? A pantsuit? Who knew, certainly not him. He got lost in her movement before realizing that the rehearsal was starting. It was like coming back up from being underwater, and he realized he must have spaced out at some point. Marinette’s eyes were focused on the band Adrien looked there too, at Ivan on the drums, Rose singing, Luka on guitar, and Juleka on bass. The song hit him then, resonating a deep chord somewhere in his heart and his throat tightened up again. He should have read the lyrics, it would have made him feel less stupid but in that moment his brain caught up with his body when Rose sang. “Maybe we’re just friends, but I want more.” Adrien hit his fist into the flat palm of his hand, “It’s a love song.” Rose giggled into the mic and for the second time that night, Adrien felt his face going hot. “Sorry, I promise I read the lyrics it just.. It didn’t hit me until now, hearing it out loud.” Marinette had her hand over her mouth and Alya nudged him, “I’m glad you caught onto the meaning behind the words.” “I never did claim to be a great poet, or understanding poetry,” he scratched behind his ear and laughed with them, “Still, I think it’s great. It’s a refreshing take on a love song it’s so.. In your face!” Rose smiled, her cheeks turning pink, “I’m glad that you caught it! If you caught it, then our audience certainly will!” Everyone nodded, and Adrien settled back against the couch, glad that his spotlight moment had finally ended. He still felt how his cheeks burned and he kept his face clasped in his hands to hide himself. One day he’d actually read the things that were handed to him, and read them well, so that he wouldn’t embarrass himself like that again. They resumed rehearsal and Adrien put his head down on his knee. He was tired, beyond tired, and it was finally catching up to him. All he wanted to do was lay down but he was enjoying his time with his friends. They were all so.. Lively, and happy. It was an energy he wasn’t used to, but he appreciated to a level he would never be able to describe in words. He felt safe in the presence of his friends, undoubtedly safe. The beat of the song throbbed in his ears as he nodded off, cheek falling flush against the couch cushion

#bee fics #miraculous ladybug #ml #chat noir #ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #rose lavillant #luka couffaine #ivan bruel #juleka couffaine #gabriel agreste #light angst uknow u know

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raybansandcoffee · 5 years

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Adventure of a Lifetime: Chapter Three

Find the Character Bios and first 2 chapters HERE.

*****

I woke up the next morning to sun coming in my bedroom window and the sound of the kids through the monitors I had in each of their rooms. Their sleep schedule versus mine had been one of the hardest adjustments of parenthood for me. I groaned before climbing out of bed, quickly using the bathroom and going into the nursery to grab Axel.

"Good morning, Axe Man. How's my favorite little guy?" He put his hands on my cheeks. He did this every morning. I was convinced it was his way of telling me he was fine and he loved me. I got his diaper changed before we headed into Ellie's room to get her. "Ellie Bellie, are you ready for breakfast?"

"Can we have waffles?" she asked.

"Of course we can have waffles." We got her into the bathroom before heading downstairs for breakfast. Once we were in the kitchen I got them in their seats at the island and started on the food. Luckily there were some frozen waffles in the house so I didn't have to make waffles from scratch but I did decide to make them some scrambled eggs.

"Where's Savy?" Ellie asked.

"She went to spend the day with some friends since we won't be home. What do you think if we skip your piano lesson today since she's gone?"

"OK! Can we play instead?"

"For a little while but remember we need to leave so we have time to get to Ava's house for our play date." By the end of breakfast, I had two tiny humans covered completely in syrup. I cleaned them both up and we went to the family room for some playtime. Seeing them interact, especially as Axel got older, warmed my heart. My sister was three years older than me and then my step-brother came during my Dad's second marriage. They were two people I couldn't do without and I loved that I got to watch these two build that with each other. Your siblings were the people who would be there to support you through anything and these two had been through more than most people could imagine. I snapped a quick photo of them as they laid on the floor laughing.

*****

To: Samantha Madigan-Fitzpatrick

From: Charlotte DeLuca

Subject: First Day of Summer!

Hey Samagator!

We miss you extra today. It's the first day of summer and the kids are so excited. We are having a playdate with Ellie's best friend from school, Ava, and going swimming at Ava's house. We are enjoying a little playtime at home before heading over there. Watching Axe and Ellie on the floor as they lay and have their conversations and giggles is one of the happiest feelings. I honestly can't describe it. I get it now. You always told me kids were different when they were yours. I fucking hate it when you're right.

I got through the first draft of the score I'm working on. I'm going to let it sit for a few days before I send it off to the powers at be to see what they think. It's my biggest project this year. You'd love it. The film is a small indie project, with an amazing cast and the perfect emotional storyline to put music too. Exactly the kind of project that is our sweet spot. I've spent so many hours at the piano this week that I honestly considered putting my hands into buckets of ice. A day away from work at the pool is going to be the perfect escape.

Alex would be pissed if I didn't mention Ava's Dad is ridiculously hot and I'm fairly certain is single. I'm trying to focus on the idea of maybe making an adult friend that isn't family, someone on the other end of a FaceTime, phone line or email, or well Savy since she's typically the only other "adult" I speak to on a regular basis. I tried, I really did, to make friends with the Mom's from Ellie's school but I just don't fit in there. I can't pinpoint exactly what it is but there's just a disconnect between me and the other women. I tried to find a local playgroup to take Axe to, I found one at the library and went and it was strange and mostly nannies. I did have lunch with your Mom this week, it was great to see her and nice to have an adult conversation where I didn't feel like I was parenting Savy or waiting for my WiFi connection in the basement to die.

Well, I better go. I've gotta get the kids bathing suits rounded up, pack a bag of crap for Axel and find a swimsuit that I don't look hideous in. We all miss you like crazy.

Love you forever and for always,

Charlie

*****

"Alright tiny humans. Let's go upstairs and get ourselves ready for a day of fun. If we are on our best behavior tonight we can have pizza for dinner."

"Peessa!!" Axel shouted back. He was really great at repeating words though most of the time it still sounded nothing like what he was trying to say. I picked him up off the floor before blowing raspberries on his tummy making him let out the perfect giggle. His giggle was my favorite sound in the entire world. It had gotten me through the worst year of my life. It was the best medicine ever created. I grabbed everything each child could possibly need for swimming, what felt like a million extra diapers, snacks, things that kept them from having complete and utter meltdowns, and finally got Ellie into a bathing suit with a cover-up dress over it. I drug them into my room and put them on my bed to watch cartoons as I tried to figure out what to wear.

"Why do I do this? Ugh. I hate trying to figure out if I look terrible with no one around," I was talking to myself while putting makeup on. I'd found a bathing suit that I didn't feel completely hideous in after spending far too much time standing in my closet trying on every bathing suit I owned. When I lived in LA I spent my summers living at the pool. Alex's house had the most amazing pool so most of our summers were spent enjoying the gorgeous weather, the company, and food. Sam also had a pretty great pool though significantly smaller and less of a kid's dream than Alex's. I had a pool at my condo and honestly spent time most days there when I needed a break from working. My phone vibrated on the granite counter. I glanced down to see Jeremy's name pop up.

Are we still on for today?

Yup! I have Ellie in a bathing suit (which was quite a task), grabbed one for Axel and have finally gotten the few minutes I needed to get myself out of my pajamas covered in the syrup from their breakfast. We should be leaving here in like 15ish minutes. I just need to grab Axel's little travel playpen, he will definitely need to nap while the girls hang out.

Don't worry about packing anything. I've still got some of Ava's stuff around that you can use. I'm the oldest of 7 and have a lot of nieces and nephews so every kid thing you could imagine needing is here. Just bring yourselves.

Are you sure? It's no big deal. My best friend got the coolest shit for this kid when he was born.

I've got you covered.

Okay then. We will be there in a little bit. I just have to get them wrangled into a car.

"You're gonna do great, Charlie. You are not a lunatic. You're a completely normal person. Today is going to be a good day."

"Today is going to be a great day!" Ellie replied. "It's going to be a great day because we are going to have a lot of fun and pizza for dinner because I promise I'm going to be on my best behavior."

"Ellie Bellie, have I told you yet this morning that I love you?" I asked as I picked her up and hugged her tightly. She had started to give me positive thoughts in the morning when we'd sit and get her ready for school. She heard me one day embracing my inner theater nerd. I'd been listening to the Dear Evan Hansen Original Broadway recording and had even gone so far as to say 'Dear Charlie De Luca, Today is going to be a good day and here's why...you have two wonderful kids who you love and who love you who are experts at putting a smile on your face. You're alive, you're breathing, and you're going to be okay.' Ever since then she'd tell me good things in the morning. She'd also started to dance with me to musicals in the mornings, it was some special girl time we had each day.

"I love you too." She buried her head in my neck hugging me. "You look really pretty in the swimsuit you picked." I'd ended up with a two-piece that had a black and white striped high waisted bottom and ruffled black top.

"Thank you, munchkin. Let's get me in a dress to cover this up and get in the car to go to Ava's." I threw a dress on over my bathing suit while also throwing clothes I could wear after time in the pool to at least drive home in. We got everything in the car, Ellie into her car seat, Axel into his and were on the road headed to Jeremy and Ava's house. My phone started to ring and the screen on the dash showed it was Alex calling. "Everyone say hi to Auntie Alex."

"Hi!" Ellie screamed from the backseat really excitedly. Her little brother let out his signature giggle instead of saying hi.

"Hey, kids. Are we all on our way to our playdate?" she asked.

"We are. We are pulling out of the driveway right now."

"And you managed to find a bathing suit without having a complete meltdown and calling me this morning panicking in your closet? I'm proud."

"I did. I went with the ruffly high waisted two pieces one from last summer."

"Oh, that one is cute and much more appropriate for a playdate with kids than the one I was going to suggest."

"Yeah, the super revealing bikini is not playdate appropriate. It was barely all-inclusive Mexican vacation appropriate."

"You looked hot in it."

"I definitely wouldn't now. A year of essentially eating like a child because of children has me not looking my best. I need to set up a gym in the house or start running through the mountains like a weirdo or something now that it's warm."

"Put a pool in. You used to swim laps in my pool every morning before anyone in the house was even awake to realize you'd snuck in." It was true. I didn't live far and often times my condo pool was filled with people early who were using it for a workout so I'd sneak over to Alex's house and do laps in her pool when we had decent weather instead of going to the gym.

"Yeah, because that is affordable and totally makes sense when I live in the mountains and had a period of time this winter where the snow was taller than I am."

"My 10-year-olds are taller than you. It's not hard to accomplish. You can afford to add a pool. Maybe put it on a wishlist for next summer. You know it will be nice for you and the kids."

"It would be but it's not a priority right now. My top priority is having my house ready for your entire family and my family to be out here soon."

"Did you finally hear from Frankie and Tony?" Alex asked.

"Yup. Tony called me yesterday morning. He's coming out to stay for a while though he won't give me any firm dates on anything. I'm sure Mandi is driving him crazy and he's not even been home a month yet."

"Oh, guaranteed." I loved my step-mom but she could be a bit much and my poor little brother was probably going insane living at home. He had just graduated from college and wasn't used to being home with the parents. He hadn't completely decided what was next though Dad was hoping law school and eventually becoming a partner at his firm. Tony's maternal grandparents were loaded and honestly, the kid would never need to work a day in his life because of his trust fund. He was brilliant and graduated with honors in both of his majors but he had spent his entire childhood focused on school and wasn't sure what he wanted to do next. He told my Dad he was going to take a year before deciding on if he wanted to go to law school, grad school for something none of us would be able to predict, or get his MBA and in the interim he was going to move out with me and help with some of the business aspects of my job that I hated most. I hadn't offered him a job but my brother knew he could convince me of anything because I loved him more than I loved most people because he knew when he shouldn't be providing commentary on my life. Our sister, Dad, his Mom and my Mom definitely did not.

"Frankie also called me yesterday after Dad told her that Tony was moving to Tahoe with me. Her whole clan is coming out. It will be good. One big celebration."

"Any of your parents coming?"

"No, Dad has a big trial coming up that he's working all hours of the day on, most of the time he calls me it's when he knows I'm not sleeping and he's on his way home from the office. Mandi, of course, wouldn't come without him. I truly don't understand her, she's been married to him for most of my life yet lately she will rarely do anything with me or Frankie without Tony or Dad and very rarely if it's just Tony. Mom is of course off on some lavish vacation with her current love interest. I think she called me from Amsterdam last weekend."

"Well, your brother and sister being there will be good. Plus the kids will all be together and you'll get to have some comic relief from Ryan and Tony."

"So true. They are the best at making me laugh." My brother-in-law was the perfect addition to our family. He took such great care of my sister and their kids while also being a decent role model for my brother. "It will also mean that Ryan will do his best to stop Frankie from grilling Tony and me about him moving here. Tony needs a break. All he's done his entire life is school. He needs to be an f-ing kid for a while."

"Just don't let him hit on my daughter."

"I'll do my best but she could do worse than T."

"I know she could but I need her to focus on school not the cute boy above the garage." My watch buzzed on my wrist signaling I needed to make my final turn into a driveway that was long enough I couldn't see the house from the road. I buzzed at the gate and the gate unlocked. Even though our gate had a camera I usually harassed anyone who buzzed it to goof off instead of just letting them in. "Okay. My dear friend Siri has informed me we've reached our final destination." The house came into view. "Holy shit."

"You said a swear word," Ellie said from the back.

"What is it?" Alex asked.

"His house is huge and gorgeous."

"Well have fun and report back later."

"I will. Talk to you tonight." I stopped the car as I saw the front door open. Jeremy came walking out as Ava ran in front of him towards the car. Ellie knew how to get herself out of the car so before I knew it she was running past Jeremy into the house with Ava.

"Hey slow down you two," he called. "Do you need help with anything?" He had walked over to me.

"I think I can get it all," I replied as I grabbed Axel from the backseat.

"Hey there, buddy." Jeremy's demeanor changed from being polite as he greeted us to the complete mush everyone turned into when they saw Axel.

"This is Axel."

"Hi, Axel." I watched as the little guy reached towards Jeremy. He rarely reached towards strangers like he wanted to be held but he didn't even remotely hesitate. Jeremy took him from my arms so I could close the door and grab the bag I had for me and the kids from the back. "He is so cute."

"Thanks. I think he's pretty great." I followed Jeremy into the house where we found the girls playing together. We went towards the kitchen where there was lunch set up for the kids.

"I didn't figure you'd want macaroni and cheese but it was Ava's request today."

"That's a good choice, Ava. I love macaroni and cheese." Jeremy must not have been kidding about having stuff for kids around because there was a high chair waiting for us so that I could help Axel eat. The girls happily chatted away as they ate quickly so they could start swimming. "Thank you for having us and letting me bring Axel with. Savannah was super excited about having a day off."

"No problem, he's a pretty cool kid." We were sitting by the pool watching the girls jump into the pool over and over again. "Ellie is a really great swimmer."

"So is Ava. I guess it pays to grow up in houses with pools."

"True. Do you also have one?" he asked.

"We don't but LA had a pool."

"Aha. Yeah, my house there has one too. I feel like not having a pool in LA is against some sort of city ordinance."

"So true. My condo in LA has one. I usually opted to use my friends' pools though. I mean I was at mine a lot but any chance to get out of my tiny condo was great. One bedroom seems so cramped when your friends all live in giant houses in the hills."

"You were in a one-bedroom with both of them?" He asked.

"Oh no, that would not have worked. I'd have lost my mind. I still have the condo for when I need to go back for work because it means I don't have to stay at my Dad's. Though at this point I'm fairly certain my younger brother has probably located the spare key and used it to escape his Mom." Jeremy laughed which made Axel laugh. "That's right Axe Man. Uncle Tony is silly and Nana Mandi makes all of us a little bonkers."

"Half brother?" He caught onto me saying 'his Mom' which meant he was observant.

"Yeah, Tony just graduated from college. He's the youngest of us. My sister Frankie is three years older than I am. Our Mom and Dad split when I was probably 8, Dad met Mandi, they got married and added Tony to the mix."

"I get that. My youngest sibling is the same age as the girls. He was born the same week as Ava."

"That has to be weird, right?"

"A little weird. But I get it. My Dad wanted more kids. I'd love more but I don't know if it's in my cards. What about you?"

"I never pictured myself having any kids. I was going to be the fun aunt that corrupted the children. Kids hadn't been in my cards at all. My best friend always told me they were different when they were yours which is a BS thing that everyone tells a woman who doesn't want to have kids. Turns out she was right. I hate it when she's right. So I guess someday maybe but for now, these two are all I can handle alone. Right Axe? You're just too much for just me to handle so we can't add another one." He giggled at me and I smiled.

"Is their Dad not in the picture?"

**********

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I love a good cliffhanger! Which I know makes me SUUUUUPER evil.

Diving more into Charlie and the kids has been fun. The way conversation flows between she and Jeremy easily. The fact that Axel IMMEDIATELY thought Jeremy was cool is also pretty telling. Kids and dogs smell fear, it's something I've learned over the years. I'm childless by choice and intend on remaining that way. Outside of my niece and nephew kids are a little intimidating for me during periods of their lives. And usually they either want to be around me to make me anxious or they start screaming at the top of their lungs when there's even a thought of me holding them.

I must admit "Dear Evan Hansen" is one of my absolute favorite musicals so for Charlie to use it as a motivator for her mornings is something I also try to do. "Dear Charlie DeLuca, today is going to be a good day and here's why ___" I can picture her saying that in the mirror every morning and filling in the blank with what she's going to focus on.

Jeremy is an interesting character for me to develop as well. Admittedly, I LOVE Jeremy Renner. He's an incredible actor, musician, and those eyes are too beautiful for words. While I am using Jeremy as the inspiration of the character I can't really say that I believe the way I write the character to be anything like Jeremy in real life as I do not know him personally and I respect that he does the best he can to keep his private life private. So this may or may not be a version of him that reflects reality or that suits everyone, though I hope people enjoy reading it.

xx. AM

@baker151910 @alicenwrites

#jeremy renner #jeremy renner fanfic #jeremy renner fan fic #jeremy renner fanfiction #jeremy renner fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen

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panic-angel3314 · 7 years

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War of Hearts : Alpha!Roman Reigns x Reader x Future Alpha!Braun Strowman Part 1/?

A/N: Ok so this is a series I’ve been working on. 1. Because I love Braun Strowman and Roman Riegns and 2. I love the whole werewolf AU. And 3 I’m a sucker for soulmate AUs😫😫It’s my first time ever writing something like this so please be gentle. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea ☕️ Tagging my babes because they continue to inspire me and encourage me. I love you guys 🖤🖤 Pairings: Alpha!Roman Reigns x Reader ; Future Alpha!Braun Strowman x Omega!Reader Warnings: Cursing maybe? Angstish (like internally, it’s a love triangle people), Fluff, A/B/O dynamics Summary: Becoming a women’s wrestler is never easy, especially as an Omega. Finding love is even harder. Will you find love in one or will fate throw you to the wolves? Follow this story as the reader goes into battle in a “War of Hearts”.

“I can’t help but be wrong in the dark ‘Cause I’m overcome in this war of hearts”

Being an omega was never easy but thanks to my family and Grade A suppressants I managed it. It was extremely hard because on top of all that I was a pro wrestler trying to make my way up the ranks without the help of my superstar big brother Daniel Bryan or The Bella’s who were practically my sisters.

“So, what’s it like?” Nikki asked.

“Being on suppressants? I don’t know. Ok… so you know how during your heat all you want is the ’D’ but the only thing that can quell it is a knot?”

“Yeah…”

“Well the suppressants help it so that all I need is the ’D’ and it can be attached to some nice little Beta and not some asshole Alpha. It also helps me not be a slave to my own body. Just because I’m an omega, doesn’t mean I need an Alpha to function.”

“Of course, not Babe. You’re a strong independent omega!”

“Nik not so loud, would ya? Most people still think I’m a Beta and I’d like to keep that way.”

“Why hun you should be proud of who and what you are. “I couldn’t help but sigh at her comment.

"I am, Nik. It’s not how I feel about it. It’s how

others perceive me when they find out that bothers me. Alphas only want me hanging off their knots and Betas look down at me as if that is all I want as well.” I replied somberly.

“Hey (Y/N). I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that I promise.”

“I know you didn’t Nikki. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What’s it like to find your true mate. Like with you and John. What was that whole experience like?”

“Gosh girl, I don’t think there are enough hours in the day to explain what it felt like but I’ll try my best.” She giggles before turning serious. “You know how everyone has their own scent and some are more appealing than others?”

“Yes, but with my suppressants a lot of other people’s scent have been dulled to me.”

“Really?” she paused for a split second shaking her head “I mean, as I was saying when you finally meet your true mate, or at least when I met John he smelt otherworldly. The first whiff had my wolf screaming, girl. She kept repeating things like mate, and home, and mine. The scent itself smelt like pinewoods and musk. Man, just thinking about it… whoo.” She had to stop and fan herself at the thought of her own true mate.

“Nikki!” I squealed.

“Sorry, hun. I can’t help it. Anyways that’s just the smell. When we touched, my body was set ablaze. Like first heat times 100.” I shuddered at the thought.

Every omega’s first heat is the cruelest. I was lucky enough to be in the comfort of my own home with suppressants on standby. While my family always thought I’d present as an omega, I was kind of a late bloomer.

“(Y/N/N) did you hear what I said?”

I sheepishly looked down shaking my head mouthing an 'I’m sorry’.

“What I was saying is that you also go into an instant heat and your mate goes into an instant rut to push the mating process. And if you don’t couple you’ll be in the most excruciating pain you’ve ever been in. Just driving to the hotel was a feat for me and John. What’s made you so curious about this all the sudden?”

“I don’t honestly know. I just know I’m getting older and still haven’t found my mate. Part of me wonders if the whole true mate thing is even real. Or maybe I just don’t have one you know?”

Nikki was having none of that. She practically lunged from her spot on the couch to pummel me in a big hug, scent marking me in a comforting manner. Omega instincts at its finest.

“He’s out there Babydoll. I just know it. And besides today’s a day of celebration remember? Your Raw debut is tomorrow and me, Brie, and Daniel couldn’t be prouder. You’ve worked so hard on your own, taking absolutely no hand outs and you’re finally here. So, no time for being sad. We have take- out on the way to the house as well as Brie and Daniel. Then we’re going to watch your favorite movie while we eat ice cream, standard pre-match ritual.”

I couldn’t help but smile because ever since I could remember, whether it be my brother or one of the Bella’s, they always spent a movie night in with me before one of our big matches. Now here was one of my biggest matches to date and all three of them were going to celebrate it with me. I love my little pack and couldn’t ask for a better family.

To my surprise even John Cena, Nikki’s Alpha, came to support our pack tradition. He really was a great addition and the love I saw between the two always inspired me and gave me hope that one day I would find a worthy Alpha.

The night went off without a hitch and even ended up with all of us in a puppy pile in the middle of the floor surrounded by pillows and blankets.

The one omega trait I could never seem to shake, even as a pup, was cuddling or puppy piling when I could convince the pack. I guess that’s why my parents thought I’d present as an Omega eventually. Most days I was either cuddled between one of the couples or koala beared on the back of one of my pack mates. It was just one of those quirks I was known for. I mean I’m the baby of the pack, what did they expect? This also earned me my nickname Babydoll which most people even outside my pack would called me. Hell, even Stephanie McMahon referred to me as Babydoll. It also didn’t help that that was also my in-ring persona. And while most people’s in ring personas were a complete 180 to real life. I was just me and I love it that way.

The morning of my debut was spent at the gym for a light training session with my big brother, making sure I had all my submission moves down to the letter. I even made him genuinely tap out a few times, which had my confidence through the roof.

The rest of the morning was spent getting coffee and getting to the performance arena in a timely manner. Being a newbie meant having to get there early so that Steph could give me a quick rundown of how tonight was going to go. I was thrilled when they told me, my match was going to be a tag team match with Sasha and I versus Charlotte and Dana. And to top it off I was slated to pin Charlotte in a submission move, my brother’s yes lock, for the win. To say I was nervous was an understatement.

After the rundown with Steph and the pleasantries exchanges with the girls I was carded off to The Bella’s dressing room for hair and makeup.

Being the baby of the pack had its perks, I was spoiled beyond belief. The girls’ excuses were always 'for my protection’. And to some extent I would agree. Being submerged into a new environment where pack dynamics are almost nonexistent, it’s hard to find your place. To top it off my sense of smell is not as sharp as it should be so I wasn’t able to sniff out the good from the bad.

So, I was totally fine with being sequestered to the Bella’s locker room it was safe and I felt protected there.

“Knock, Knock. Can I come in?” It was Sasha.

“Of course, girl. I just finished putting on the final touches to my makeup. How do I look?”

Sasha was one of the few people I knew from the main roster. We spent a lot of time together during developmental. During my time there we were practically attached at the hip. We were so close in fact, she knew my true presentation.

Sasha was a beta with an Alpha complex, basically she was chill until someone tried to mess with her friends because then all bets were off. I cherished our friendship and I missed her dearly when she was moved up the main roster. But now here we were together again and on the same brand!

The next thing I knew Sasha was suffocating me in a bone crushing hug. As I hugged her back with as much enthusiasm, a foreign smell hit my senses prompting me to ask, “Sash what is that smell? Are you wearing a new perfume?”

She looked at me strangely, “ No…. Why?”

“I’m not sure I just got a whiff of something, is all.”

“What do you mean? I thought you said your suppressants dull your sense of smell.”

“They do that’s why I was wondering. But never mind. I can’t believe I’m here! I finally made it! And I get my best friend back!”

“Oh, Babydoll you never lost me, you know that.” She said rubbing my back.

“Yea but this is different. I’m seeing you in the flesh. And now we get to hang out just like old times.”

Sasha and I spent our time catching each other up on certain things we missed in each other’s lives, everything from matches to romantic rendezvous.

“I can’t believe you actually went out with him (Y/N)! What happened to your rule of no Alphas unless he’s the Alpha!”

“Hey, I don’t regret it. Roman is amazing and besides I gained an amazing friend because of it!”

Even though I had a thing about staying away from most Alphas, something about Roman drew me in. Roman and I had been on a few dates together and he was an amazing kisser to say the least but we both realized really early on that we were just meant to be friends, almost like platonic soulmates. Even though I was losing hope on the whole true mate Alpha thing, I still didn’t want to give myself over to someone who wasn’t my Alpha. Both of us were so in tuned to one another it was crazy that we weren’t true mates. Best parts about Roman though was the fact that he was a great cuddle buddy and more often than not he would scent mark me so other asshole Alphas would stay away.

“I don’t care what you say I still ship it.”

I couldn’t help but stick my tongue out at my best friend more than anything, I was just glad to have her back.

“Okay, so if not Roman. I should ask. Do you still have that school girl crush on Braun?”

“OMG Sasha!” I shoved at her shoulder. I can’t believe she brought up the “Braun” thing.

“Ok first of all Sash it wasn’t a school girl crush. I merely wondered who he was. He’s the 'Monster among men’. Can you blame me?”

I had seen Braun once in my life but have never even spoken to him, while I have seen his matches and think he’s an amazing athlete. I’ve never even spoken two words to him.

I was in the states from a stint in Japan and I had promised Sasha I would visit. I was trying to hone my craft across seas while my best friend was training in the new NXT performance center of WWE. I was so proud of her and missed her like crazy so I stopped in Florida before going home to Arizona where I had stayed part time in with my brother, Bryan and his amazing wife Brie, in their new home. Even Josie their French Bulldog was one of my favorites.

That experience at the performance center was otherworldly, not because of “Braun” but just because it motivated me even more to make it to WWE. It was also the first time I met my Samoan superman of a best friend.

As I was kicking Sasha’s butt around the ring and trying to help hone her new submission move, the Banks Statement, I was also showing her possible opponent counters. What can I say I had made a name for myself as a submission specialist and grappler, having learned from all over the world. So, as I have her in a counter of a modified version of the black widow. Mind you I’m upside down. I see this amazing hulk of a man walking in and I nearly lose my breath. It wasn’t the size or stature, he didn’t hold himself menacingly. In fact, he looked quite sweet. His scent is what had me breathless, he must have felt me staring cause as he walked by us, we made eye contact. My heart nearly stopped right then and there. I immediately released my best friend not wanting to be seen in such a graceless state.

I couldn’t be more thankful for my scent blockers because damn did he scream Alpha. The fact that I could smell him was saying something.

Breaking eye contact I turn to make sure I didn’t pull back Sasha’s arm too bad.

“Hey girl you ok?”

“Yeah but what happened? You stopped before I could counter.”

I couldn’t help it when my eyes cut to Braun only for him to be looking back at me unashamed smiling sweetly instead of a typical douche smirk most men in general throw my way.

Blushing immediately I break eye contact but not before I see a damn smirk come into view and damn it if I didn’t actually like it.

Sasha caught the whole interaction even shaking her head at Braun who simply answered with a shrug.

“Babydoll, is there something you want to ask me?” Sasha asked fluttering her eyelashes in quick succession.

“Who’s that?” I muttered knowing full well she heard me.

“I’m sorry but you’re going to have to speak up, Baby.”

“You know what let’s forget it we have work to do my flight is tonight so I’m limited on time. Plus, I’m not gonna worry myself about someone I may never see again anyways.” I huffed trying to get back to sparring.

“Ok miss priss but his name is Braun Strowman and he a nice gentlemanly southern Alpha. But he’s with that bleach blonde over there starring daggers at your head. Her names Dana and she is one bitchy Beta with an omega complex.”

That explained a lot. While most betas took on a slight Alpha complex there were some, mainly women, who would take sort of an omega complex to seem more appealing to Alphas. Why? I had no idea, being an omega sucked sometimes, it’s why I take military grade suppressants.

“Like I said no time to worry about anyone but myself.”

And that’s how that conversation ended as you and Sasha started to spar again going back and forth between submissions and counters.

All the while a hulking Alpha looking on majorly impressed. And a bitchy blonde seething.

“Okay. Okay. Whatever you say. But! There is something I never got to tell you about that day.”

“What’s that?”

“After you left he came up to me and asked about you.”

Fighting my blush like my life depended on it I scoffed and said, “So what?”

“It’s so cute how you think you can fool me, you know that? Anyways…. he had asked me if you were an omega.”

My heart stopped upon hearing that. No one absolute no one should be able to sniff me out as an omega…. well except for my true mate….

I shook myself out of such dangerous thoughts.

“Sash how are you so relaxed about that and are now just telling me. You know there is no way in hell he should have been able to scent my placement.”

I look to my best friend trying to find some sense of understanding and then I see her light bulb go off.

“Omg! I never even thought of that (Y/N)! Omg stupid beta brain.”

“Wait so what did you say?” I asked panicked.

“I told him no that you were a Beta but he never did look quite convinced when I said that, come to think of it.”

“Sash what else, what else did he want to know?” I urged my best friend to talk faster.

“Nothing just who you were and where you were from, in fact he seemed real interested about you until Dana came sniffing around. I swear that girl needs a reality check.”

“I’m kinda freaking out here girl…. you don’t think…. this whole true mate thing is true, do you?”

“You’re seriously asking ME that?”

“I’m sorry I just …. idk I’m just really on the verge of a mental breakdown.”

A knock at the door broke me from my hysterics.

“Who’s that?!”

“Calm down girl, it’s probably just Roman. He asked where we were and I told him.”

As if he could fell my panic and was Superman to the rescue. I immediately felt a hundred times better even with the whole looming true mate business. Something about Roman just soothes my soul to its core. Before Sasha could get the door open I was bum rushing my Samoan Superman.

“Roman!” I squealed.

Pummeling into one of his bear hugs I totally took advantage, arms around the neck and legs around the waist practically gluing myself to his essence.

He just chuckled into the scent gland on my neck, expecting nothing less from me, kissing it before mumbling a quiet, “Hey Babygirl.” And I shivered at his touch.

“Ugh you guys need to get a room you’re disgusting.” Came from behind him the one and only Nikki Bella.

“Aww Nik why can’t I just borrow yours.”

“Eww no way I don’t want all of that rubbing up on all my shit.” She grimaced.

“Not all of it Nik. Just the couch, maybe the table right Roman?” I look up beaming with mischief as I stare into his beautiful gray eyes. Eyes that could calm any storm brewing within me.

“Behave, Babygirl.” He laughed swatting my butt in a reprimanding nature.

“Again eww.”

“Okay Nikki we get it but let the girl live she hasn’t seen him in months and tonight’s her debut.” Brie, always the voice of reason.

Roman walked us over to the awaiting couch, keeping me koala-beared to him, as the girls and Bryan all settled into the dressing room.

Making sure to cuddle as close to my Samoan teddy bear as possible I look to the twins and ask, “So how much longer until we need to head down to the gorilla?”

“They said they’d come and get us but I would say about 20-30 minutes.” Brie answered.

“Dang it and I just got comfortable.” I pouted towards Roman.

“No pouting baby girl.” He flicked my bottom lip, “You need to get up and get warm.”

Tucking into his neck further I mumbled, “But I am warm.”

“You know what I mean” he rumbled.

“Get that booty up and let’s get to stretching.” Nikki came and landed a swift smack on my butt for emphasis on her way out the doors with the others.

Relenting I looked towards Roman, “Scent me for good luck?”

“Of course, baby girl but wait til we get to gorilla okay?”

“Fine.” I pouted.

“Why are you in such a pouting mood babe? It’s your debut, you should be over the moon!”

“I am! I just missed you Ro and I don’t know I’m nervous as hell. Like I just want to curl up in a ball and demand that you hold me.”

“As appealing as that sounds… that’s gonna have to wait until later.” He replies leaving a lingering kiss to my temple.

“Love you,” he whispered as he pulled back.

“I love you too Superman.”

What no one knew about me and Roman was we were sort of more than just friends, while it never went past making out physically there was a deep and intense emotional bond. In fact, a couple years back I made a pact with him if I didn’t find my true mate by my Birthday of this year I would start a mate ship with him and eventually let him claim me as his omega.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing in our world many betas had mate ships with Alphas and many omegas took Alphas that were not considered their true mate.

Unfortunately, many of those omegas would find their true mate Years down the line and make things very complicated within pack dynamic. Trying to live without your true mate once you found them was like living without half of yourself. And that was a fate I’d hope to never face. While Roman was not my true mate I knew deep within my soul I could not live without him. Why, I may never know and with this whole Braun issue I was really scared that I would have to learn how to live without him sooner rather than later.

“Babygirl? You ok in there?” Roman asked, tapping me on my forehead for emphasis.

“Something on your mind?”

“Nothing just thinking. I’m scared.” I whimpered into his neck.

“Scared of what babe? The match? You’re gonna do great. It’s in your blood.” He reassured while rubbing my back.

“Not about that. About us…”

“What about us? We’re good and in six months we will be even better.”

“A lot can happen in six months! What if I find him and then I’ll lose you forever. I can’t lose you Ro. I know you’re not my true mate but we are connected on a soul level and I-I…” I couldn’t stop the tears that broke through that time.

“Shhh hey Babygirl. Listen to me I’m not going anywhere. Yes, a lot can happen in six months. But the one thing you will never have to worry about is losing me.” Gently he leaned down and started kissing my tears away making sure to leave one lasting and loving wet kiss on my lips.

“Promise?”

“Promise. I love you Babygirl, more than my own life.”

“I love you too Superman. To the moon and back.”

“Good now let’s go we can’t keep everyone waiting, now can we?”

“I suppose not.” I giggled into his chest. Before getting up and catching everyone near the gorilla I caught Roman by the scruff of his neck and kissed the breath out of him. I made sure to make it count because in my gut I knew it could be one of our lasts.

“Babygirl…” Roman panted, “What was that?”

“What was what?” I answered cheekily, giving one more quick kiss before rushing out to catch up with my friends and family but not before I heard Roman say, “You little minx. You’re going to be the death of me.”

#wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #Braun Strowman imagine #Braun Strowman x reader #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #alpha Roman #alpha Braun #omega reader #abo dynamics #wwe smut #my writing

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Padma Lakshmi Is Tired of Being Delicate

Padma Lakshmi and Emiliano Marentes in El Paso | Hulu

This week on Eater’s Digest, Lakshmi discusses her new Hulu show Taste the Nation

This week on Eater’s Digest, writer, Top Chef host, and executive producer Padma Lakshmi discusses her new show Taste the Nation and why it’s so needed right now. Her show focuses on immigrant cuisines across America and explores the history, culture, politics, people, and the often forgotten or overlooked contributions to our national foodways.

Lakshmi also talks about her need for creative control on this show and her desire to be herself and to show women as full humans, instead of as sweet sidekicks. “I was tired of women having to be delicate, or kind of coquettish, or sweet, or well-dressed. I’m sick of fucking wearing heels,” says Lakshmi. “I did my own makeup. I lived in my car. I didn’t have a trailer or anything. And it was so liberating.”

Then, Eater Chicago’s Ashok Selvam catches us up on the latest out of his city, including the controversy surrounding lauded restaurant Fat Rice, new to-go booze laws, and the general vibe of restaurant-goers as the city opens up.

Listen and subscribe to Eater’s Digest on Apple Podcasts and read the full transcript of our interview below.

Amanda Kludt:

Padma Lakshmi, welcome to the show. Congratulations on your new show. Can you talk a little bit about the impetus for the idea behind the show, how the development process went?

PL:

Sure. It’s basically a direct result of my work with the American Civil Liberties Union. I started working with them shortly after the election in early 2017. At that time, there were a lot of things being said in the media and out of Washington that were really vilifying to immigrants. And as an immigrant myself, I took great offense to that. And concurrently during that process, I was working with my producing partner, David Smith of Part 2 Pictures, and we were going to do an immigration show, because of all this information. And then separately, I was doing a cookbook. And I showed him the research that I had compiled. And he thought we should combine the two projects. The idea behind the show is to go to a community and pick one dish that may or may not be really what they eat, but is in the larger consciousness what we think of when we think of that cuisine traditionally.

And so using that dish is kind of a Trojan Horse to get me embedded into this community. And for 14 years of my life, I’ve been talking about some very highfalutin food on Top Chef. And I knew for a fact that that’s not how most people eat regularly in their lives. And so as someone who’s not a chef, and is a home cook and writer, I wanted to explore on the ground, what people were eating in those different communities. And use that to talk about some deeper issues. Because food is of course, excuse me, fetishized in our culture. But for most people it’s tied with a lot of nostalgia, and identity and emotions. And so I wanted to use food to get to those issues.

Daniel Geneen:

Yeah.

AK:

I noticed in one of the episodes, you’re on the border town of El Paso and you’re talking to a restaurant owner who employees all of these Mexican chefs and cooks, and is an avid Trump supporter. And in the scene you are holding hands and trying to have this conversation. And I was wondering, what does she feel like in this moment, because you are so resistant to Trump and his administration. And yet you are learning through the conversation what his point is.

PL:

I thought it was important to have him in the show. Again, while it’s not a piece of journalism, I think it improved my credibility if I try to be as impartial as I can and show both sides. So I wanted that interview very badly. I was warned that Maynard was cantankerous, moody, profane, politically incorrect and maybe even racist. I think he had intimidated my field producer a lot. And I felt badly for her for putting her in that pre-interview situation. And so I was kind of ready for everything and I really wanted the interview. So I was just, again, going at it with just be fluid and see what he gives you. He grabbed my hand very early on. It was awkward. It was so awkward, but I have uncles like that in my family.

… I think Maynard, especially others in his generation, but also in our generation. I’m almost 50. I think there’s a disconnect for a lot of people on policy versus the actual human exchange of daily life.

And he talks about his employees like his family. And he, I’m sure doesn’t pay them what they should be paid, but I’m also sure that they get paid more by Maynard than they would if they had that same job in Juarez. And so I wanted to look at how these twin cities, who have always kind of existed in a symbiotic relationship with each other. It’s a right of passage for every high schooler to kind of go and party in Juarez. I mean, Maynard’s daughter herself told me that when she had her graduation party, she didn’t want to have it in El Paso. She wanted to have it in Juarez, because that’s what was cool.

And then Juarez got dangerous and stuff. But the actual locals have always had this give and take. Much like in New York where there’s so many people coming in from Brooklyn, from New Jersey, from Queens to the city, working and leaving. And all the cool restaurants are now in Brooklyn. It’s in a way a form of that. And so these laws that are handed down from Washington have completely... So I wanted to see again how these lofty notions that are often made devoid of getting to know the people they actually directly affect do affect those people.

DG:

It seems like you didn’t want to make any kind of hard and fast point about it. And you just wanted to let them have a platform so that all of these people could just say what their day-to-days are like interacting with each other. And then he says, “I’m going to vote for Trump, because what option do I have?” And obviously the implication is, well hey, it’s going to, I mean, even that action makes it so your employees have to spend a lot longer at the border every day. But I feel like you don’t say those things explicitly in the thing, right? Is that a conscious...

PL:

My job was not to be there as an ACLU representative, trying to convince him that his behavior was wrong. My job in that instance, I believe was to document his authentic point of view without trying to manipulate it. If the camera was off and we had time and I didn’t have to go to my next location, I might have sat there and been like, “You’re foolish.”

DG:

In the cold.

PL:

It’s a different conversation that I have when he’s like... You also have to be mindful that you’re in his space. You’ve asked to talk to him, you’ve asked his employees to stop working or talk to me outside on their lunch breaks. So there’s a certain just graciousness that I felt I needed to have.

DG:

I appreciate that though, because I feel like for years, everyone in the media or everyone online, or everyone, maybe people who are particularly vocal who go to the store are telling him he’s full of shit. And then it reinforces what he already thinks about the other side.

PL:

And about the media.

DG:

Yeah.

PL:

Yeah.

AK:

I think also... I don’t know if you all remember Bourdain’s episode where he went to West Virginia and was talking to those people there about what it was like to work in the mines. And this isn’t the exact same thing, but there is a parallel where sometimes you’d need to show these people in their environments and hear what they have to say. And that’s how you can make some sort of progress.

PL:

I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have gotten to know him as well if I tried to talk to him rather than just listen to what he had to say. And that’s why I was there. I wasn’t there because I wanted my audience to know my opinion. I was there because I wanted my audience to be exposed to people like Maynard, to be exposed to people like Rosa in the Peruvian episode. And those are the people that make up this country. That’s what this country is like. And a lot of people, especially in media live on either coasts, and they’re insulated in a way to their own detriment. And so for me, I wanted to come away from the series changed, because I knew... Or just educated. Just more informed.

PL:

And I knew that if I didn’t let them speak, then the point of doing the show would have been lost.

AK:

Were there other-

PL:

... Because I’ve seen a lot of shows like that. And we’ve all seen millions of travel shows. And they’re all nice. And they all take a survey of what’s cool, or hip, or delicious, or what are the hidden gems in a particular city. And that’s great. And that’s kind of a lifestyle show that I’ve done before early in my career, that I really love also consuming. But I wanted this food show to have greater cultural meaning, at least to me. If I was going to do a second TV show and be away from my kid, I wanted it to be worth it.

AK:

It seems like historically not a lot of people get the opportunity to do a smart cultural show about food. Outside of Bourdain’s history, you don’t see a ton of shows like that. And I’m wondering, what has that been like from the inside? Do you see that changing? Was it really hard to get this green-lit?

PL:

That’s a great question. Yeah, I see it changing. I think a big shift was... And a big beautiful instance of it was Samin’s show. Never did you see a woman doing that. You have a lot of examples of men, kind of these male chefs swashbuckling all over the world. And that’s what Tony’s show is about. In another way, Andrew Zimmern is coming at it from another angle. Then Marcus Samuelsson is coming at it from a PBS angle. And then Alton Brown is coming at it from a scientific angle. But they’re all men. And when people first started talking to me about the show or I would talk to them, they’d be like, “It’s like Bourdain.” And I would say, “Well, I was friends with Tony for 20 years.” Not great friends, but I saw him consistently in my life.

And that show only works because of Tony. Because that show relies so much on his personality. I mean, he basically wrote that show in voiceover. And he did that show for 12 years on the Travel Channel, pretty much the way he wanted to in a very low-fi way. This show cannot be that. It cannot be Andrew Zimmern show. It cannot be any of those other shows I mentioned, because I’m not those people. I love travel. I couldn’t do what I do if my life hasn’t been full of travel. First as a child who, traveled between cultures. But also in my early career. So I wanted to be able to do that as a woman. I was tired of women having to be delicate, or kind of coquettish, or sweet, or well-dressed. I’m sick of fucking wearing heels.

I did my own makeup. I lived in my car. I didn’t have a trailer or anything. And it was so liberating. And at some point... Yeah, I mean, I had a makeup artist for some of the episodes. And at some point... I love her. She’s a great makeup artist. And I still use her. But I know for a fact that when you’re trying to capture an environment, the less of a footprint you have, the better. So I just had to make that choice. And I’m vain like everybody else. I want to look pretty. I’m not all of a sudden claiming I don’t care about what I look like. But I wanted the freedom to be crass. I wanted to swear. I wanted to have the full experience that I would have if the camera wasn’t on. And somewhere between the show being bought by Hulu and us going into edit of the episodes, Disney bought Hulu.

And so I was really worried, because I know that after I was seeing memos saying “We really see the show as a co-viewing show. Much like Top Chef.” The kids in the family can watch it with grownups. And I just wanted to make sure I said, “This is an adult show.” I have a kid and I’m always looking for things I can watch with my 10-year-old. So I get it. But I wanted the freedom to be how I am. I don’t know if you guys have watched the Chinese episode yet.

AK:

Not yet.

PL:

There were things in that episode that were going to be cut, that I had to fight to keep in, because we never see women being sexual. Except to try to attract the audience or try to seduce else. We never see people... I’ve not seen a lot of women who are on TV, and who play themselves, who are just all the things that all human beings are. And I knew that the more myself I was, or tried to be, the more that my guests on my show, my interview subjects would be themselves. And I needed to show myself if I wanted them to show me.

DG:

And was it hard at first, because you obviously have insane level of reps doing Top Chef stuff, and it seems like you probably would have gotten into a rhythm in that world and in the way that you act on that set. So was it hard to break?

PL:

It wasn’t hard for me. For so many years with the American public has seen of me is such a narrow version of my personality. And that’s a function of the format of Top Chef. For me to do my job well, it requires me sublimating my personality a lot, because I want to get to the guest judges and what they think. I want to get information out of the contestants, et cetera. There’s so much business to happen that people didn’t really get to see what I was like. I’ve done TV outside of Top Chef. Albeit, a long time ago, because I’ve been doing Top Chef for 14 years. But I’ve worked in different countries. I worked in different languages on live television. So that wasn’t hard. That wasn’t hard at all, because I was dying to do that.

DG:

Right.

PL:

The main thing for me with this show is for good or bad, I wanted creative control. I didn’t want somebody else to tell me how to be. I was not thinking of, okay, I have to be totally different than I am on Top Chef, or I wanted to be more comfortable, which is why my wardrobe is what it is versus what it is on Top Chef. And also would have been inappropriate in a lot of situations I was in. But I really just wanted to be free. I didn’t want to have any artifice. I just wanted to ask the questions and just get the answers. And I wanted that human connection.

I wanted to get to know these people. And given the choice between going to a white tablecloth tasting menu at the best restaurant in any city or having a food truck crawl, I would choose the latter, because that’s what my tastes run naturally toward. I have great respect for Michelin Star chefs. I know the skill and tactical execution involved in that kind of dining. I respect it. I value it. I just, on my own time, I’m not interested in it anymore, or as much. Nearly as much. I’m interested in how most people in the world eat.

DG:

You never hear people say... Who spend years and years in the kind of Michelin level communities. You never hear them say, “I’ve just spent so much time in these communities and it’s really increased my love for it. And I want to spend more time.”

AK:

Some people though, they stay in it. So many of these people.

DG:

They stay, but they’re never like, “I’m more excited now than I’ve ever been about a four hour meal.”

PL:

Yeah. Yeah.

AK:

I follow you on Twitter and you’re very vocal about your political beliefs and opinions. And I’m wondering, would you want to explore a show that’s even more overtly political talking about what food and politics mean, especially in this moment?

PL:

Sure, I would. I mean, let’s hope enough people watch and enjoy Taste The Nation. And that I get that opportunity. I started my hosting career in Italy on a live show, and there was no tape delay, and it wasn’t about food. It was just one of those big variety shows. And I was part of a bigger cast. And I was sort of the sidekick to the main host. And I learned a lot on that show. And I really enjoy the spontaneous conversation of live television. There’s nothing to beat it., The title of this show is not an accident. It’s a play on Face The Nation. And I would love a show like that. But not even that just explores food and politics, although that is of course a natural jumping point. And by the way, and a very deep well from which to call conversation.

But I feel like we’ve gotten so polarized. In media there’s a formula, someone’s pushing a book, or an album, or a show. And they come on and they talk about that. And it’s all very pre-rehearsed. But I would love to do a show that has... And I’ve tried to pitch the show forever, by the way. A show where you have people from all, two or three guests from different walks of life. So you have like Shaquille O’Neal, and Lorde, and Aziz Ansari, I’m making this up obviously. And the conversation between these three people and having that. And there are shows that have tried to do that, but I don’t think anyone has found a way to crack that nut. And that’s a show I would feel excited to watch and participate in as well or host, because it’s what I do in my own living room.

I don’t go out to eat as much as people think I do. But I love to have dinner parties. And I love to curate a guest list. To me, that’s my jam. That is wonderful. And to just introduce people to each other and to hear them speak, because I want to learn. I want to learn how to be funny from Aziz. I want to learn how to be well-informed and right from David Remnick. I want to be able to understand whatever it is. And so bringing those people together is exciting to me. And I think in the next phase of my career, I would like to make a decent living doing what I naturally do for free in my own life.

AK:

Do you think this moment will lead to more opportunities like that, for a show like that, or for, I don’t know, a better representation in TV in general?

PL:

I hope so. When I was waiting for our conversation to start, we were just reading Business Insider.

AK:

It’s dark.

PL:

It’s very dark. And you would think that it would be easy for me to get coverage, because I’ve been on TV for 14 years. Top Chef is in 60 countries. I feel like I’ve earned the right to actually have some copy space in some big food magazines. But I couldn’t get arrested at Bon Appétit, and now I know why.

AK:

Yeah.

PL:

And you hate that, or I hate that. As a Brown person, as a woman, I hate having to explain why I can’t crack a certain nut with that excuse. But when you feel like you have this undertow, this invisible force that you cannot square with any of your actions, or what can I do? Then you start to be like, “Oh, okay.” Because nobody wants to say that. I mean, gross. You don’t want to blame your inability to achieve something that you think is important on that kind of stuff. So it embarrasses you. It embarrasses you to even talk about it.

AK:

And I think the people in power just kind of ignore it because they don’t believe it. And so you need... But when you see so many people with the exact same experience, saying the exact same thing-

PL:

... I mean, what the hell?

AK:

It’s like these people feel gaslit that they’re not being listened to. And it’s like, wait, this is everywhere.

PL:

I cannot believe that it was... That you don’t pay one person the same as you pay the other person for doing the exact same work. I get, hopefully if someone has more experience and more stuff on their resume, they make a different paycheck than somebody who’s starting out. But fuck, that is just blatant racism and sexism. And it’s illegal.

AK:

Yeah, absolutely. It’s horrifying. And I think in this moment, we’re learning about so many industries, and specific companies and brands that have a lot of reckoning to do. And oftentimes, I hope in these moments, it leads to better people getting better opportunities. And better people getting in the room.

PL:

Me too. Yeah. I mean, I have to admit that one time I went to some Persian restaurant in San Diego, and for some reason somebody at Bon Appétit wrote a really long article about that meal that I put on Instagram. But that was just random. Maybe Adam wasn’t looking very hard that day. Yeah, somebody was golfing. But that happens. That shit happens all the time. And it’s good that it’s coming out. I’m happy. No one wants anyone’s career to be ruined, but I’m glad people are making a stink. My neighborhood was totally trashed, completely fucking trashed in the looting and stuff. And it’s fine. I really don’t care. I care much more about the people who had the courage to, in spite of COVID, go out there and demonstrate and protest. Every now and then society needs a seizure, society needs some kind of shock. And it’s unfortunate that it’s on the backs of these black men.

AK:

Absolutely. And to go back to the show, you talk about immigrant cuisines. And one of them is the Gullah Geechee community. And I think that’s important to include whenever you’re talking about the foods that make up America.

PL:

Definitely. That episode was really important to me. It was probably the episode I did the most amount of research for. We filmed this time last year or a little bit later, maybe in August. It was really hot in Charleston. That’s all I remember. But I really enjoyed that episode, because we never think about African American cuisine as having its ancestry and roots in another continent, the way we look at immigrant cuisine. But it obviously does. It is forced migration. And so I was sick of seeing African American food just painted with a broad brush of soul cooking, or Southern food, or whatever. And I wanted to see what was it, in as much as it’s possible, separated from its white colonial ties. And when I was in Charleston with Top Chef, I met BJ Dennis and we became friends. And like I said on Top Chef, we don’t have time to go into a lot of history because of the competition that we have to show.

But we did attribute dinner to Edna Lewis at Middleton Place. And we got a lot of flack for going to what used to be a plantation. And so I wanted to go back there actually, because we can either avoid it and be like, we’re not going to justify that location with our presence. Or we can go there and we can face it and say, “This ugly episode in our history is part of our legacy too.” And so, that whole episode is really, really important to me. Also, about the different African cultures and the theory that certain enslaved people were sought after because of their rice cultivation knowledge. And that the Carolina rice industry declined right after Juneteenth. Right after the end of slavery and that’s not an accident.

AK:

Well, it’s truly excellent. And we hope all of our listeners check it out on Hulu, starting June 18th now.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3eqyqqM https://ift.tt/2Z1PbBU

Padma Lakshmi and Emiliano Marentes in El Paso | Hulu

This week on Eater’s Digest, Lakshmi discusses her new Hulu show Taste the Nation

Listen and subscribe to Eater’s Digest on Apple Podcasts and read the full transcript of our interview below.

Amanda Kludt:

Padma Lakshmi, welcome to the show. Congratulations on your new show. Can you talk a little bit about the impetus for the idea behind the show, how the development process went?

PL:

Daniel Geneen:

Yeah.

AK:

PL:

DG:

PL:

DG:

In the cold.

PL:

DG:

PL:

And about the media.

DG:

Yeah.

PL:

Yeah.

AK:

PL:

And I knew that if I didn’t let them speak, then the point of doing the show would have been lost.

AK:

Were there other-

PL:

AK:

PL:

AK:

Not yet.

PL:

DG:

PL:

DG:

Right.

PL:

DG:

AK:

Some people though, they stay in it. So many of these people.

DG:

They stay, but they’re never like, “I’m more excited now than I’ve ever been about a four hour meal.”

PL:

Yeah. Yeah.

AK:

PL:

AK:

Do you think this moment will lead to more opportunities like that, for a show like that, or for, I don’t know, a better representation in TV in general?

PL:

I hope so. When I was waiting for our conversation to start, we were just reading Business Insider.

AK:

It’s dark.

PL:

AK:

Yeah.

PL:

AK:

And I think the people in power just kind of ignore it because they don’t believe it. And so you need... But when you see so many people with the exact same experience, saying the exact same thing-

PL:

... I mean, what the hell?

AK:

It’s like these people feel gaslit that they’re not being listened to. And it’s like, wait, this is everywhere.

PL:

AK:

PL:

AK:

PL:

AK:

Well, it’s truly excellent. And we hope all of our listeners check it out on Hulu, starting June 18th now.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3eqyqqM via Blogger https://ift.tt/3hSl88v

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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saintjojis · 6 years

Text

Chin Up Pt. 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Genre: High School!AU, Fluff, Light Angst

Word Count: 2,411

A/N: uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh, oops? Enjoy! p.s. send requests!

Even in the midst of senoritis and finals season nearing, Halloween brought about a small gleam of joy for you. Yoongi wasn’t nearly as stoked as you were, but you hoped to get him in the spirit just in time so you could have a nice night regardless of what plans (or lack thereof) came up. In the meantime, it was time to convince Yoongi that Halloween is a lot fun, even if he didn’t agree. You two weeks to really get him to bite. He wasn’t opposed to Halloween itself by any means, he just didn’t really care about celebrating it as much as you did, getting spooky was your thing after all. There were a lot of ideas eing thrown around, some said parties, others said go out and actually scare people, Jungkook suggested that you go trick-or-treating. You thought it sounded fun (free candy always sounds fun).

Yoongi, on the other hand, wouldn’t have it. He immediately turned the idea down, much to Jungkook’s dismay, claiming it would ‘taint’ his ‘image.’ You and Jungkook still disagreed, so Namjoon opted for a vote. To the surprise of no one, it was a whopping two against six. Just out of spite, you vehemently rejected every idea after, even if it sounded fun. This Halloween discourse went on for about 5 days before Hoseok told the group that one of the seniors was throwing a party. Yoongi immediately said no, he did not trust any guy who went to that party, especially if you were going to be dressed nicely, and wearing makeup, and possibly drinking, and… his list of problems went on and on. He wasn’t having it, he just wouldn’t allow it; it’s not that he didn’t trust you, he didn’t trust other guys, especially if they were going to be condensed in one area while blackout drunk. It didn’t deter you from trying, you were set on getting your way this once. So, you began bringing it up nonstop, deciding that you were going to essentially annoy him into saying yes. Even when he texted you, you’d immediately switch the subject to the party. This went on until about 3 days before the party, you managed to absolutely drive him insane. You tested his patience until he finally gave in, not before he set some conditions of course.

[Mr. Min🌞-11:15AM: Jesus fucking Christ alright we’ll go, but I’m not leaving your side]

[Mr. Min🌞-11:15AM: like at all]

[Mr. Min🌞-11:16AM: you’re not drinking either]

[Mr. Min🌞-11:17AM: if shit gets too crazy we’re leaving]

Drinking was kind of the whole point of going to parties, but you could live with that, maybe you could convince Yoongi otherwise once you were there. That would be quite the feat, regardless, you were ecstatic.

One crucial detail you’d forgotten about this whole thing was that, since you were all going to the party, you’d have a small group of eyes always watching over you. You knew the guys knew better than to let you get away with doing as you pleased, you understood that Yoongi wanted to protect you; but you still wanted to have fun, however you would try to indulge him.

Yoongi had good reason to be worried, not for himself but for you. He knew who was going to that party, as he did, and someone had mentioned to him in passing, that Jimin would be there; and that he had a few new friends with him. As it so happens, Jimin managed to befriend a few people who Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of. He thought maybe it was on purpose, just in spite of him, but it served as a sort of protection. Jimin wasn’t very good at fighting, and didn’t want to fuck up his face over some argument, so he avoided it. And, since Yoongi had threatened to kindly rearrange his face for him and make sure he spoke through a speaking spell, he decided that he’d need someone to back him up. You know, just in case.

He’d grown close with ‘some Chanyeol guy’ and ‘some ass named Jackson.’ You knew Jackson, everyone did, but you didn’t know Chanyeol. It was very clear to you that Yoongi had a very clear disdain for them, you could only wonder why. Still, this wouldn’t stop you, and if you did see them you’d just pretend they weren’t there. Even with this, Yoongi was uneasy about the whole thing. He didn’t care about fighting, he’d gladly do it; it was about you, he wanted you to have a good time and if you ran into them there it would be a mess. He knew that Jimin was hellbent on making you miserable, and he was out to ruin you. Even if his reasoning was complete bullshit. You assured Yoongi everything would be fine, the guys would be there, Jungkook could easily overpower Jimin, and maybe Jackson. It was six versus three, it wasn’t a fair fight, but who said anything about fair? He seemed a little skeptical, but let it go.

The night finally came, you wanted to match costumes with Yoongi, but he managed to turn down nearly everything you proposed. To be fair, you did suggest some pretty dorky concepts.

“Halloween is about being scary, (y/n).” He said, annoyed “Not this cutesy shit, no offense.”

‘None taken.’ You sarcastically thought. He was right, though. So you proposed something a little overdone but good nevertheless.

“What about Donnie and Gretchen?” You asked. “He’s dead and she’s not real, plus they’re a couple.”

He considered it for a second before saying, only if you’d turn his face into a skull. You got to it right away, and by the end he looked a little scarier than you’d anticipated. You gave him contact lenses to make his eyes a dead gray, and his look was completed. Now you had to decide what to wear, you had to match your character’s style to the best of your ability. You thought you did a good job of it, and so did Yoongi. You were ready to go, all that was left was to pick up the guys. First, Hoseok, then Taehyung and Jungkook. Jin and Namjoon would arrive together. Hoseok was dressed up as the Tin Man from ‘The Wizard of Oz.’ You didn’t understand why, but whatever floats his boat. Jungkook was dressed as a dinosaur holding a person in a cage1, while Tae went as Hannibal Lecter.

When you got to the party, it was overflowing with people. There were some who were already drunk out of their minds, so Yoongi kept you close and tightened his grip on your hand. As soon as you walked in, there were a lot of people greeting him. You could tell he’d gotten around by the way people teased him about being with you.

He didn’t want you to drink, but you convinced him to let you drink just a little. He went to fetch you something, telling you not to go anywhere. You assured him you wouldn’t and he replied that he wouldn’t take very long. So you stood there chatting with the people around you, some were drunker than others, but all nice all the same. Before long, you felt someone grab your arm. You were sure it was Yoongi, but when you turned to face him, you were met by someone entirely different. It was Jackson. You were horrified, but you played it off and greeted him nicely. About three words in he suggested you go outside with him because inside was “too noisy.” You politely declined, and looked around for Yoongi. He noticed this and said something rather strange.

“I’m sure he’s busy with someone more important.” Someone? Did he mean something? Regardless, he didn’t correct himself and, as far as you could tell, he wasn’t drunk. He noticed the confusion in your face and spoke again, “What? No one told you? Why don’t you check the kitchen?” You were very reluctant to leave, but what did he mean by ‘no one told you.’ What were you missing here? So he went with you to the kitchen, you didn’t find Yoongi; who you did find there, however, was Jimin. You told Jackson very politely you had to go, but he didn’t let you go anywhere. He got the few people who were there to leave so it would just be the three of you. You quickly texted Yoongi where you were and that you needed help right away

[(Y/N)-8:45PM: yoongi I need help]

[(Y/N)-8:45PM: kitchen, jimin n Jackson HURRY]

[Mr. Min🌞-8:46PM: Fuck on my way]

[Mr. Min🌞-8:46PM: DON’T DO ANYTHING DANGEROUS]

You heeded his words, and didn’t even make eye contact with Jimin. Soon, the guy you took to be Chanyeol appeared and you knew it was going to get ugly.

[(Y/N)-8:48: did I say jimin and jackson? I meant to say ChAnYeOl jimin and Jackson hUrRY TF UP]

Jimin spoke first, his pitched voice a contrast to the others baritone, gravely ones.

“You know, (y/n), you’re still as pretty as the day we met.” You could tell by the way he spoke that he’d been drinking. He continued, “Too bad you’re such a fucking prude. I bet you and that dog don’t even hold hands.” You could feel anger bubbling up at his words. “Too bad, I would’ve treated you much better, you know?” He laughed then, and so did Chanyeol and Jackson. You rolled your eyes and just leaned back into the wall, waiting for whatever else he was going to say. Just as he was about to speak again, you heard Yoongi’s voice outside the kitchen. It was the sweetest sound, and even better; he wasn’t alone. You looked over at the boys in front of you, eyeing their reactions. Jimin seemed too sure of himself, while Jackson looked worried. Chanyeol… Chanyeol was clearly too high to notice.

As always, Yoongi came through, he was absolutely furious. He burst into the kitchen and headed straight for Jimin, Jackson knew better than to step in. Taehyung tried to hold him back, he tried convincing him that this wasn’t worth it.

“I just want to talk, I just want to talk. ‘Aight? Let me go.” He said, obviously not wanting to talk at all. He was ready to tear Jimin in half. However, as soon as Yoongi said he wanted to ‘talk’ Jimin seemed to gain even more confidence. How naïve.

Tae let him go and, before Jimin could even greet him, he threw a punch right at his face. Jimin stumbled backwards, only to have Yoongi grab him by the collar of his shirt and be hit again. Yoongi had no intention of stopping, and no one in the room had any intention of stopping him. Chanyeol was about to lay hands on him before Jungkook stepped in front of him. Chanyeol might have been bigger but Jungkook was sober, so keeping him off of Yoongi wasn’t a hard task. In the meantime, Namjoon guided you out of the room. He decided it was best if you didn’t see Yoongi at work.

Back in the kitchen, Yoongi demanded answers from Jimin. He demanded to know what he’d done, and swore he’d kill him if he’d laid a hand on you. Yoongi’s hands had sobered him up by now, and he was on the verge of tears. He called to Chanyeol who was too busy with Jungkook, then to Jackson who wasn’t about to get his ass beat just because he’d decided to be petty. All of Jimin’s cockiness dissipated, and turned to fear. Yoongi wasn’t exactly too relaxed either. He was growing more and more impatient, he shoved Jimin into the counter behind him, and again demanded some sort of answer.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Are you forgetting who fucking stood with you first? Huh? Or are you just fucking stupid?” He was screaming at Jimin at this point, growing more furious by Jimin’s lack of response.

“Leave. Leave now, delete her number. Never seek her again. Never speak to her, never look at her. Don’t you ever fucking dare to even think about her you fucking pervert. I don’t want to see you again. Never show your fucking face near us again or you’ll wind up with more than two black eyes and a bloody nose.” With that, Yoongi left him there in the kitchen, where Jimin slumped to the ground. Jungkook told Chanyeol that it wasn’t a personal thing, and he agreed.

You were half expecting Yoongi to want to leave after that, surprisingly though, he joined you in the backyard as if nothing happened. As if he totally didn’t have Jimin’s blood on his knuckles. He handed you a drink, you gladly took it. Lord knows you needed it after that. You shared it with Yoongi, who seemed a lot more willing to get drunk after that little altercation, you didn’t balme him. Jungkook and Tae were taking care of the group since they didn’t drink. Even after that, you managed to have a good time. Hoseok’s Tin Man costume made sense once you were at the party, it was his little “clever” way of picking up girls. You and Namjoon made a bet of whether he’d manage to hook up with at least one or not. You said he would, he said he wouldn’t. Shockingly enough, you won the bet. Some girl really fell for that cheesy ‘I don’t have a heart, so can I have yours?’ line he was using. Legendary.

The night wound up being really fun. You and Yoongi drank a little more than you should’ve, but that was okay. You decided it was best if he stayed the night at your place since his was the farthest. When you made it up to your room, Yoongi only managed to take off his shirt before passing out on your bed. It was cute, but you dressed him because the night had gotten cold, and you knew he’d complain about it in the morning. Truly a night to remember, you took a picture of him passed out still painted like a skull. ‘He doesn’t have to know’ you thought. You wiped off his face paint after, and then your make up. What a way to end the night. You rested your head on his chest and felt his warmth, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

16 notes · View notes

thoughtfulpaperback · 5 years

Text

Television and White People problems I cant relate to

I might make people mad, but I am just gonna say it. A good half the time I cannot relate to the problems and motivations of white people on TV. But I am going to list some scenarios that I cannot relate to

1. Unaffectionate Parents/parents that arent around much/parents who are strict = bad parents who ruin thier children

Listen purposefully withholding affection from your child as a manipulation tactic does equal bad parent. Never allowing your child to make meaningful connections outside of the home as a way to control them = abusive parent. But like shows like Gilmore Girls have the main character and side characters acting as if she has been horribly scarred by thier parents not letting them listen to rock or run around and dirtying an expensive dress. Or they excuse or justify a characters bad behavior because thier parents aren't around (usually these are rich characters).

I am a working class Latina and I always felt this was total BS. My grandparents were not affectionate people. There were no hugs or I love yous after the age of 5. Both worked long days and I was constantly left in charge of my siblings. I wasnt allowed to wear makeup until after I was 15 (I didnt start wearing it until I was 18) and when I did my grandpa constantly made comments like "what do you have on you face?" "Only ugly women have to wear makeup!" "If God wanted your nails to change color every month he would have made it so they could without that junk (nail polish)!". I wasnt allowed to listen to rap music. If my grandma bought me an outfit I wasnt allowed to do anything to get it dirty

I wasnt allowed to stay the night at a friends house until I was in high school and even then my grandparents preferred people stayed the night at our house versus me going to someone elses.

Guess what...I am fine. I never was rebellious. I knew they loved me. I knew they cared. I wasnt a teen parent. I can tell people I love them. I am affectionate with people I am close to. I graduated college. I was a good, friendly, well adjusted kid. All of my Latina friends were too. But like every other white "bad kid" or "jerk" is that way because of thier parents supposed lack of interest.

Listen I get the validity of loneliness or even anger at feeling as if your parents are not interested in you. I am just saying it is something that is not in my experience, so I have a hard time relating to it even though it is a very common troupe.

2. Cutting out family members/estranged family.

Ok so my Latina self has never, ever understood this movie plotline. Like I have extended family who may not even be related to me that are big idiots, which everyone recognizes, but I still see them at all the family events because it is rude not to invite them when they are family. Like we do not stand physically abusive people in my family. But that is what you have to be in order to be cut off from us. Stupid? A Mooch? Toxic? Prejudiced? A very annoying drunk? All those things are okay warrant toleration because you are family. And again this is extended family. In movies or shows where the child has cut off the parents from thier life or that make snide remarks or talk back to them...OMG not only can I not relate but I cannot even process.

Again I am not saying that people should have to tolerate any behavior which causes them anxiety or makes them uncomfortable. But like the idea of ever cutting out my grandparents or even my mother completely out of my life is unimaginable. Right not agree with the things they do or say, and I may not make an effort to reach out to my mom, but I will never purposefully avoid or talk bad about them to any one. And believe me my mom is pretty toxic but I would never hinder her ability to reach me if she needs me. I will no longer go out of my way to please her, but moving away having children and not letting her be part of thier lives. Nope not doing it.

Most of my latino friends live in multi-generational homes (grandparent, great-parents, parents, self and thier children). So just the idea that your grandparents or parents live in a different home than you was hard enough to wrap my mind around while watching TV. The idea that you moved across the country to get away from your family unimaginable.

Again not condemning any one who does that just explaining why minded just cant relate.

3. 18=Adult and going crazy

I am 25 (I think, I forget) years old. I am a virgin, I didnt have a sip of alcohol until I was 23 or right when I turned 24 (again I forget). I've never had a boyfriend. I have only been on like 3 dates with 1 person. I still ask my grandparents permission to go places, I tell them my plans and who I am with. I do this unprompted. My grandparents dont demand that I do it. I just do.

Dont get the wrong idea, I have had lots of fun. I lived on the dorms as a college freshman, I made lots of friends and was in multiple clubs, played intramural sports, worked as an activities coordinator at the college and hung out with friends. I've gone to concerts, I've traveled to multiple countries and studied abroad. I vacation with friends.

Like I could never relate to teenagers or college kids on television as a teen and I still can't as an adult. Dont get me wrong freshman year of college I met the Wild kids all testing thier boundaries and exploring thier sexuality now that they were out of the house.

But that just wasnt me. I didnt feel the need to. I didnt want to drink (my house wasnt anti alcohol or anything like that). I didnt want to experience getting drunk or trying drugs. I didnt have the need or urge to do anything sexual with anyone. It wasnt because I was ashamed of my body, saving myself for marriage, or emotionally scarred by my grandparents about the subject. I just didnt want to. My grandma always tells people when they ask her how she raised me to be such a good kid (although thinking on it I should resent being called a kid at age 25) that my brother and just came out perfect or the closest thing to perfect. Like I am not saying that to claim that I am, but just to give y'all the idea of how non wild I am.

18 was a wierd age for me. I was exploring mostly myself as an individual seperate from my family. Figuring out what I liked because when you live with so many people you kind of blend interests. Sometimes I dont know if I actually like an activities that I frequently do or if I frequently do it because one of my siblings likes it.

Making friends outside of family. I always had friends growing up but my closest friends were my siblings and cousins. College was the beginning of meeting people from different backgrounds and becoming friends based on common interests rather than out of convenience. A great transition to my next unrelateable troupe.

3. Peer Pressure and letting bullies get away with it.

So like for the longest time, TV made it seem like it was hard to stand up to bullies, like it was Big deal and hard decision to stand up for someone else. Like to an extent some more recent shows still do it (Glee for one). And I just cant relate.

I never cared what other kids thought of me. I was always secure in who I was and happy with myself. While I wanted to please my family, i never felt pressured to please anyone else to to follow the mass consensus on what is cool or not. I also could never stand a bully.

In elementary school I flipped over my shared desk when my desk mate called the new girl (who was on medications that made her fall asleep during class a re***d) and told him that if him and the entire class that if they have a problem with her then they can fight me and I am obviously not kidding. (My very first outburst and threat of violence). In the 7th grade a couple of girls were harassing a girl in the bathroom for telling thier secrets. Even though it wasnt any of my business and these girls were known for actually fighting other girls, I still told them that they were being stupid and to leave her alone. Which earned me a shove against the wall and a "you want to fight me?". To which I stupidly responded "I am not afraid of you" which was a huge lie.

My childhood friends who werent related to me were usually the people who nobody wanted to be friends with. Mostly kids werent considered "able" or were too "annoying". I hated the idea of people being shunned because they werent "able" or because they didnt have a concept of volume control, personal space, or the ability to read a room) or because we were related. I straight up yelled at a guy in the middle school lunch room because he was saying that I was so nice for hanging out with the special kids especialky Bob (not his real name) because everyone hated him for not being able to shut up or go away. Bob has asperger's syndrome or was adhd I honestly dont remember. He had an assigned aid and would get too close to people and once he started talking he wouldnt stop so classes were hard for him and making friends was hard to.

In 9th grade band class I stood up and called out the drum section for laughing and calling the drum majors (a Male and a female) a f*g, ugly crack baby, and other slurs while they were conducting and then told the substitute that I refused to continue playing until they were sent to the principles and dealt with accordingly. I then walked out and put my instrument away very loudly in front of the band and pulled a chair up behind the drum majors so I could glare the entire class down while they played.

In 10th grade a made a huge scene when a guy thought he'd be cute by saying that the only reason my friends and i were doing well in Spanish class was because we were "sucking mr.------ balls". I stood up and shredded into him about how that accusation was basically calling mr.----- a pedophile and that it showed how much of a sexist pig he was that he has to basically accuse successful ladies of having to used sex to be successful because that is easier for his ego than admitting his laziness inattentiveness, and bad attitude are the reason he is failing a class about his first Language.

I also yelled at a girl in the middle of the school grounds for saying there should be a holocaust for gay people.

Apparently I am the queen of making a scene. I list these things not a bragging thing, but because they werent hard for me. Most of were just reactive. I never understood why TV made doing the right thing seem like it was so hard and that you were being a freaking martyr.

I was never bullied. I knew that kids didnt like me but no one every messed with me or harrassed me the way they did other people. Doing the right thing did not make my life harder. Standing up for people wasnt some herculean task that took like two days of thinking and emotional preparation. The "majority" of people allowing mean spirited people to harrassed others never swayed me to let it go. Indifference was never an option in my mind.

So I was always really frustrated by characters who didnt automatically help a person who was being harrased. It is my least favorite TV or movie plotline. And again I can't relate.

Again this isnt to bash on anyone or to suggest that making a scene or putting yourself at risk are the only ways of helping others and standing up for others.

#personal #televison troupes

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amoretheiwa · 7 years

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The Dark Knight and the Boy Scout

First off, I would like to sincerely apologize. This was supposed to go up on Monday--it is now Friday, in case you haven’t noticed. It has been a busy and tiring week for me and I spent all of Monday in either airports or on planes. So, without further ado, the first part of Chapter Two.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2: Enter Last Son of Krypton A

Breanna Wayne is turning 23 years old. It has been 4 months since Batman fought the Joker. While getting to know someone new at her birthday party, the contraption the media has taken to calling the Batsignal (thanks a lot, Gordon) lights up the sky. In the name of safety, Breanna sends her guests home and dons the cowl—only to run into the Man of Steel himself just a few hours after taking care of the situation. It turns out they’re both looking for the same thing, and Breanna reluctantly agrees to work with him for just this case. This chapter and the next 2 (split up into 6 different postings) will be one story arc.

It was only four months since the Joker had appeared, but Gotham society had already bounced back from their member’s deaths; it wasn’t entirely uncommon for people to go missing or die every once in a while. For Breanna’s 23rd birthday party, she hosted a calm celebration in the form of a gala at Wayne Manor. She and Alfred pored over the guest list for over a week, making sure no one was slighted and the proper amount of media was invited as not reporting press but actual guests. It was with a grimace she acquiesced to having the recently returned Oliver Queen and the not-currently-on-parole Lex Luthor.

“If I didn’t have to keep up appearances…” she muttered under her breath. Walking in a handstand behind her butler, Breanna felt sweat slowly dripping down her back and pooling in her bra strap. Whenever he stopped to dust something she started doing a series of push-ups as quickly as possible.

“But I’m afraid you do, Mistress. Unless you’d like the police and FBI and others still after the identity of Batman to make some obscure connections.”

Breanna grunted and started moving after him as moved from one hallway table to another.

“I still don’t understand the point of Batman versus Batwoman,” she gasped.

Less than gracefully she let herself fall back into a standing position, putting a hand on her hip.

“Why does there need to be a gender? Why can’t I just be the Bat?”

Alfred spared her a wry look before continuing his chore.

“I don’t have an answer to that, but I will say that the need to assign labels that have caused this misgendering your nighttime persona has given you an inkling more safety.”

Breanna clicked her tongue and turned around.

“I’m going to hit the shower, Alfred. When I’m done if you wouldn’t mind helping me get everything laid out for tonight that would be fantastic.”

As she walked back down the hallway—this time on her feet—Alfred called after her.

“Are you wearing the blue dress or the red dress tonight?”

Breanna paused and shrugged, glancing back at him.

“The blue one, I guess.”

He nodded in reply.

The Wayne family had employed only one servant since Martha and Thomas made the decision to stop hosting society events at their family home, and that same servant still continued to be the sole long-term employee. For the sake of the upcoming gala, however, Breanna and Alfred had hired a few chefs and waiters with catering experience and an event planner—Rachael Iverson—who took care of the details Breanna didn’t care about. She did care about security, the food, and the color scheme. As cliché as it was, the heiress' favorite color was blue, the same color as her eyes, without a preference for shade.

She was lucky to have no allergies but knew some of the guests had some food allergies and after contacting each of the invitees she had compiled a list of possible refreshments and the planner took care of the rest. The party itself was relegated to the ballroom and gardens only, and the individuals hired to take care of the decorating showed up just three hours before it was to begin. By then, Breanna and Alfred had made sure that any artifacts associated with her nightlife were carefully hidden or stowed away if not already. Her hair was in a simple bun, still wet from her shower, and she ignored the water slowly dripping down onto the neckline of her t-shirt as she spoke with the dark-skinned woman in charge of the whole party when one of her few true friends attending appeared.

Ever since their first interview, Breanna had corresponded with Lois Lane regularly, exchanging information and the occasional meme as it came across their respective attention. More pen pals than the traditional friend, the two women had arranged to get ready together. Breanna politely excused herself from her conversation and turned to hug the shorter woman. For once she wasn’t in a suit, rather Lois had chosen to wear a pair of worn sweatpants and a t-shirt that had obviously seen better days. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail and her own blue eyes were hidden by a pair of aviator sunglasses that Breanna commented on.

“Clark got them for me for my last birthday,” she explained.

Breanna smiled—she had heard much about Clark Kent and was excited to meet him that night—and gave Lois a quick hug.

“Come on in,” she said, gesturing up the steps of the Manor. Lois followed quickly, pulling a small suitcase behind her. Despite the risks that Alfred had repeated more than once, Breanna had impulsively invited the older woman to spend the night.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess, they’re about halfway done getting everything ready.”

Lois pushed her sunglass on top of her head, taking her time to look around the foyer.

“What you call a mess is still impeccable to me, Bre.”

Breanna rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, Lo, come on.”

They went up the main stairs quickly and passed Alfred, who moved out of their way with a slight bow of his head.

“Breanna, Miss Lane.”

“Hi Alfred,” Lois said with a grin.

“I have your things laid out on your bed, Miss Wayne,” he said with a soft smile at his ward. Breanna grinned at him; there was something akin to happiness in her eyes that he had not seen for some time.

“Thank you, Alfred. You’re free to go whenever you like.”

He scoffed and the two women paused to stare at him.

“I am not spending my night off anywhere but my room, as there are frankly too many episodes of Downtown Abbey to catch up on.”

Breanna and Lois turned towards each and began to giggle, watching as Alfred shook his head and walked off as regally as ever.

“He’s certainly a character,” Lois quipped.

Breanna nodded and began leading the way again.

“You would not believe the snark. Sometimes I wish I could just turn him loose on the reporters instead of saying anything: no offense.”

“None taken,” Lois waved her hand.

When they reached Breanna’s spacious room Lois put her suitcase on top of the bed. She began pulling her stuff out as Breanna disappeared into the bathroom. She came out with a small hand towel pressed again the back of her neck, mouth opened as if to say something. She froze when she saw what Lois was holding. Not a dress, though she could see some dark red fabric peeking out. No, it was a large glossy picture of Batman, Gotham’s defender. Lois had an eyebrow raised and her other hand resting on her hip.

“What’s that for?” Breanna asked, recovering quickly.

“I’m not dumb, Bre, you know that. When were you going to tell me?”

Breanna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but she forced a smile.

“Tell you what? That I’m dating the Bat?” She laughed but the seriousness on Lois’ face did not go away.

“A little hard to date yourself but if that’s how you want to play it the fine.” She laid the picture down on top of Breanna’s dress and proceeded to pull out her phone from her pocket. She flicked it open and tapped the screen a few times before walking around the bed.

“You return to Gotham after a having disappeared for two years, and less than 12 months later the Bat is first seen. You never advertised this, it’s not on your Wikipedia page, but you not only have a complete bachelor’s in business management but also history, forensics, and criminal psychology of all things. It took some digging but apparently, you have received instruction from some of the top martial artists in the world, and must be proficient in at least nine different languages with the friends you have in 20 different countries.”

Lois paused, raising her eyebrow again.

“Your pictures in the tabloids and the most-used stock photos all have you looking the same, but in person it’s obvious that they’ve been touched up to take away some of your muscular definitions, and it’s a well-known secret in the makeup artist world that you wearing padding on your chest to give the illusion of having bigger boobs than you really do and you have a few scars on your shoulders that require concealer most of the time.”

Lois looked back down at her phone, scrolling a little, and Breanna collapsed in one of her armchairs that faced the room while still providing a view of her balcony.

“You have always voiced your support of the current Commissioner, James Gordon, and the Bat seems to be an ally if not a friend of his. Also, when you were targeted by the Joker a few months ago, Batman did not show up like he did at some of the other victim’s residences.”

Breanna stared at her friend with wide eyes, frozen in the silence before letting her head fall into her empty hand. She rubbed her face while the hand holding the now-wet towel clenched into a fist.

“Is it really that obvious?” she mumbled.

Lois laughed a sharp honking noise, and curled up in the other arm chair.

“Obvious? That took me close to a year to put together, and I never would have thought to except for some of the things you said in our first interview that sounded eerily similar to what others were saying when talking about Batman.”

Breanna glanced at Lois, narrowing her eyes.

Lois gave her a look that screamed “What?” and raised her shoulders.

“I’m an investigative journalist. It’s what I do.”

Breanna fell back into the chair and closed her eyes.

“I know.”

They were both silent, both thinking before Lois shifted her feet to underneath her body.

“I’m not going to tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Breanna’s eyes snapped open and Lois felt that something had shifted from the Breanna Wayne she knew to whoever this was in front of her.

“Oh? Why not? It would be the article of the century, better than anything you have ever written.”

Lois pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

“I’d never be able to write anything better, afterward, either. Besides, I think what you’re doing is important and it’s not my place.”

Breanna starred at her for a little bit longer before shoving herself out of the chair. She began to pace, half of her steps in the light from the balcony window-doors, the other half in the shadowed contrast of the wall. It was while she was in the shadow that she stopped, turning to face Lois better.

“I believe you,” she said at last, her voice serious.

Lois rolled her eyes and stood up, putting her hands on her hips again.

“I’m so glad,” she said sarcastically and walked back over to her suitcase. She carefully moved the picture of Batman—of Breanna—to the other side and continued to take out her things for the gala.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…I’m not used to having friends and with this secret I—”

Lois interrupted her.

“It hasn’t been easy making any, I imagine. Not without feeling like you’re lying to them the entire time.”

Breanna nodded and Lois stopped, her hands full of red material.

“The world needs its heroes, and some cities more than most. Gotham wouldn’t know what to do with Superman just like you wouldn’t know what to do with Metropolis. I hope this crusade of yours works out in the end. Gotham could use a little more light.”

Breanna swallowed and nodded. Lois closed her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.

“For heaven’s sake, Breanna, look at us. You’re a vigilante, a superhero, at the age of 23 and I’m just a journalist for a newspaper at 26.”

Breanna moved to lean against the edge of her bed, smiling again.

“I wouldn’t say just a journalist. You do have a Pulitzer to your name after all.”

Lois grinned, her blue eyes sparkling and the tension that had been present gone from the room.

“I do, don’t I?”

Bre nodded.

“That’s more than Clark can say.”

Lois laughed and they began to get ready.

#dkandbs #amoretheiwa #amoretheiwa writes #the dark knight and the boy scout #superbat #breanna wayne #clark kent #lois lane #alfred pennyworth #genderbent batman #genderbending

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instantdeerlover · 4 years

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My Experience As a Black Planning Bride By Ally Tyger added to Google Docs

My Experience As a Black Planning Bride By Ally Tyger

Naomi: As part of our Black Love Matters pledge, we wanted to share the voices of our Black planning brides. We wanted to understand how the wedding planning experience can be different for them and to hold ourselves and the wider wedding industry accountable for where we need to step up. To kick-off, we hopped on a Zoom call with one of the first women to call us out back in September 2019. Our call with Ally was a wonderful, vibrant discussion of all that it means to be a Black bride. We asked Ally if she would write a piece to share her experiences, and that is what we have for you today. What follows is an illuminating, passionate, honest read. Over to Ally…

Tell us a bit about your wedding planning journey so far.

Nick proposed after 10 years together, two days before Christmas 2018 in the beautiful city of Hội An, Vietnam. That in itself is a story for another time. We had to span over seven time zones to share our exciting news with loved ones. The reality dawned on us the scale of our wedding – it was never going to be small – my fiancé is one of 7!

Being a Project Manager, I meticulously planned a few tasks for us per month to make it fun and also keep the planning on track. It also means that we’re keeping a close eye on the budget and ensuring we tackled venue, photographer, band, and insurance first. This has enabled us to take time off from planning, so it doesn’t become a chore.

We had been planning to get married in September this year, however, due to COVID-19, the size of both of our immediate families and our international guests, we made the difficult decision to postpone our wedding to September 2021. Like many couples affected by the COVID pandemic, we’ve gone through and are still going through all the emotions and legalities but most importantly it has made us re-evaluate what really is important; the things that we did not want to compromise on and to ensure we keep our family and friends safe.

How was your experience when finding your wedding dress?

Wedding dress shopping came hand-in-hand with underwear shopping. I was appalled that most bridal shops did not know that most Black brides can’t wear white underwear under their dresses. I was spoken to like a child and repeatedly told off because I did not come prepared with white lingerie on.

I’ve since found a beautiful and understanding bridal shop that finally provided the bridal experience I deserved. We went to a speciality underwear shop in Angel, London, to have the best chance of being fitted for the right solution for my dress. Yet again I heard the same conversations verbatim. I was presented with appropriate solutions, but they only came in white and nude for white people. There was nothing that would complement my complexion. This was frustrating as the colour of my skin (nothing else) was determining the lack of underwear options available. I went home and cried and wondered how I would wear my dream dress.

How was your experience when searching for the right photographer for your day?

Nick and I are both trained graphic designers and work within the creative industries, so we already had a clear aesthetic for how we want to capture our big day. I’ve had such bad experiences of being photographed at other people’s weddings, graduation and work photos whereby I’ve come out a lot darker than what I am in reality. I became anxious about finding a skilled photographer that would be able to overcome lighting challenges throughout the day, understand the technology biases towards darker skin tones combined with capturing an interracial couple and our families.

It was clear suppliers (venues’ preferred suppliers and wedding blogs alike) only amplified predominately white couples. Most photographers did not feature couples of colour as part of their portfolio. It was therefore imperative for us to request to view a whole wedding to ensure the photographer’s style is consistent as well as to see Black couples and interracial couples. To the latter, upsettingly, most photographers did not understand why we were asking to see this. However, once we spoke to Carrie, who shows diversity consistently throughout her work, our concerns faded.

How was your experience when looking for a hair and makeup artist?

Black brides will rarely change their trusted hairdresser – going to get your hair done is an experience filled with a hive of activity, singing, food, and giggling. On average, we spend 3-6 hours at our hairdressers for each visit and will spend three times more on our hair care than white women. Afro specialists make up less than 1% of the UK salon industry even though 2 million Black people are living in the UK. This illustrates that getting our hair done is no mean feat, and finding a mobile afro hairdresser as a Black bride is so hard and will be a significant disadvantage if you’re not getting married in London.

Again, it seems unfair that Black brides can’t get the same service as my white bride counterparts. Our original choice of venue was in Hampshire and it was impossible to find any mobile afro hair stylists. With my hairdresser being London based, I went through an extensive search as most salons do not have afro hair specialists. Eventually, I found my hair and makeup artist through word of mouth and Black hair care blogs. This is something the wedding industry can’t change alone, but there is a need to warn Black brides about taking the time to find the right hairdresser who can work within your budget and ensure you consider this at the time of booking your venue.

I learned the hard way having been a bridesmaid it’s so important for the hairdresser to have knowledge and training in dealing with Black hair. In one experience, my hair was damaged because the wrong products were used. Similarly, finding makeup artists who can deal with a range of skin tones and darker tones is important. Finding one who does not ask you to bring your own makeup is not as tricky, but compared to hair stylists there are more options out there.

You’re planning a multicultural wedding! How has that process been for you?

I’m a Black Brit-Nigerian-Bajan born and bred Londoner. I’ve been brought up with strong Nigerian and Caribbean identity (which is an unusual mix) but have always struggled to balance this with the things I like about being British. Nick, my white fiancé, grew up outside of the city lights in Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire, where people of colour are a rare sight, and his normal was enjoying a traditional Sunday roast (until he met me).

Our upbringing, cultures, families, and experiences were always going to shape our wedding and will reflect who we are as a couple today. Intertwining our cultures will allow us to celebrate the things that matter the most. Initially, we defined our colour scheme and decorations, which have been influenced by my Black heritage and British wedding traditions. We’re aiming for a quintessentially English feel with lots of green and wildflowers yet this will be juxtaposed with the pop of burnt orange to interject boldness and colour that will take you to my Caribbean and African roots. Our Brixton venue is a reflection of us a couple – it will represent us as South Londoners; provide a sense of modernity, deliver on an urban design aesthetic and relaxed vibe. We’ve both agreed food and dancing will be at the heart of our wedding.

There have been moments where we’ve felt isolated. The look of shock on Nick’s face when one venue told us they were excited by our plans and they host all sorts of weddings, including a Harry Potter, themed wedding. There is a need to educate suppliers between the differences in hosting a themed wedding versus the cultural sensitivities of having an interracial wedding. The two are not the same.

Balancing the involvement of family and friends alongside the cultural expectations is hard and at times, revealing. Still, it was essential for us to ensure we had a fair representation on both sides across all aspects of our wedding. While we’ve kept an open dialogue with loved ones (yet trying to maintain some elements of surprise), we hope our guests will welcome our approach, but we’ll be doing it our way.

How can Rock My Wedding be a better resource for you as a Black planning bride?

By no means are the following suggestions an exhaustive list and these stem from my experiences of being a Black bride. RMW needs to be an active ambassador for diversity and inclusion by demonstrating education for employees, engaging suppliers, and amplifying Black business and voices as a continuum. Recognise and celebrate the differences that are affecting Black brides and interracial couples that are not spoken about. Until we’re all on an equal platform you will need to do more in this area.

Contact all suppliers on the RMW supplier list and talk to them about their stance on equality and ensure their diversity policy aligns with RMW values. Encourage suppliers to share photos of weddings from all backgrounds and actively promote this. Seek out specialist wedding hair stylists who can manage afro hair but also can manage a range of hair types, in my case all my bridesmaids are all from different ethnicities and have different hair type needs. Be advocates of makeup artists who can work with all skin tones and talk to the underwear industry about how to diversify their wedding solutions for brides of colour. Find wedding planners who have managed different types of cultural weddings.

Consider setting up a forum or focus groups for Black brides to help generate ideas to help you shape the content or for brides of colour but should also be used for these brides to share common worries, problems and positive experiences. To be inclusive is sometimes not to treat all brides from all colours and cultures the same so initially consider tagging Black brides to help them find content specifically for them. Though be careful to ensure all audiences can access the content, even if the content is for us.Share tips and hairstyles catering for afro hair, show you are aware of the extensive care routine and preparation needed and when is best to get your hair done before your wedding.

After all, there is a strong commercial case to say more diverse businesses are more profitable, McKinsey has always made a clear case for this with lack of diversity means companies are more likely to underperform their industry peers on profitability by 29%. I wonder why businesses are not addressing this. But brides are more than statistics, brides of all ethnicities and cultures matter as love is universal – I rest my case for now.

McKinsey, Delivering Through Diversity report 2018.

How can the wedding industry step up to meet your needs?

Race matters for people of colour, good or bad, as it has shaped our identity, our heritage our narrative, our culture, and our celebrations. The wedding industry needs to acknowledge their pivotal role in being an ally for Black brides, brides of colour, and move away from providing an exclusive white experience.

All brides have dreams about their big day and for many, to make them a reality we want to seek inspiration, share knowledge, and know that what we want is attainable. Yet, to do this, we need to see people who look like us regularly. Black is also equally as beautiful; we should not have to question our Blackness only because it does not conform to societal norms. The industry needs to be actively awoken about the biases, the overt discrimination at play, and be held accountable in providing inclusive narratives to genuinely reflect the demographic of British society. The absence of Black couples across all wedding touchpoints is a reminder of the daily realities of being Black at a time when getting married is supposed to be one of the happiest times of our lives.

There is a long road ahead, yet it’s refreshing to be able to talk about my experiences as a Black bride. No longer will people who look like me feel small, hurt, upset, horrified and unwelcomed by the industry because of the colour of their skin. To brides of colour, we will no longer tolerate the status quo, the bias and racial inequalities. I plea with you to share your experiences, which will help to demystify the challenges we face. And to the industry, this is your time to listen and avoid tokenism. We need you to take some immediate progressive actions and facilitate open, engaged dialogues on both sides for what should be the new ‘normal’.

Written by Ally Tyger

Instagram @ally_ty

The post My Experience As a Black Planning Bride By Ally Tyger appeared first on ROCK MY WEDDING | UK WEDDING PLANNING & DIRECTORY.

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