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hoedamn-eron · 1 year ago

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baby, please - part 17

It's your first Christmas without your family, but Santiago makes it up to you.

Warnings: Mega heavy on Christmas talk. Mentions of pregnancy complications from the previous chapter. Mentions of shitty in-laws. Gabrielle isn't actually in it, but she's being a bit distant but you know. It's fine. Lot's of dialogue, again. Not proofread whatsoever. Santi and Frankie have an argument we're not privvy to. Word count: 4,724 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Apologies this is late, but here is Christmas with Santi! I did mention it in a post, but I'll mention it again here: please be aware that part 18 won't be posted until 11/01 (11th January) due to a busy Christmas period. I need to catch up with myself, and I start a new job in the New Year, so I won't be to write as much as I was able to before.

Edited because Gabs isn't married to Andy, she's married to Matthew 😂 it's Courtney who is married to Andy! Now I'm going to have to double check all of my chapters to see if everyone is married to the correct person 😂

Part 16 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 18

You’d been taking it easy since your stay at the hospital a few weeks ago.

You took less responsibilities at work (your friends wanted you to cut down on your hours, but you just couldn’t do that), and you begrudgingly accepted the help of others to help you pack for your move next month. Speaking of your friends, they’d been checking in on you multiple times a week, and every time, you tell them you’re fine. Really.

The twins were fine. You were fine. Everyone was fine.

“You have a case of placenta previa.”

You look at Dr Montgomery, confused, from your place on the ultrasound table. “What’s that?”

“Your placenta is low, and covering the cervix,” she replied, looking at the screen as she pressed a few keys on the keyboard, then moving the wand over your bump. “Usually, it’s detected at your 20-week ultrasound, but it must have been missed, especially since you’re having twins.”

“Is it...is everyone okay, is it dangerous?”

“It can be risky, but we’ll keep an eye on you,” Dr Montgomery said. “The bleeding was caused by this, and stress. You’ll need to come back for another ultrasound at 32 to 33 weeks. It may have moved on its own by then, but otherwise, we may have to look at a caesarean birth at 37 weeks.”

“What? No! I wanted to go as natural as possible,” you say, your eyes widening. You had a plan! “I can’t be out of commission for 6 weeks with twins!”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not what you wanted, but I strongly advise you look into it,” she replies, giving you a sympathetic look before turning off the machine. “I also recommend you take it easy if you can. I’m not saying strict bed rest, but just...relax a bit more.”

So that’s what you’ve done...you’ve relaxed. You’ve downloaded a kick counting app, something you should have done a while ago, so you could count the kicks from the babies, just in case. So far, they’d been back to normal – and by ‘normal’, you mean they were using your bladder as a soccer ball, with a shot to the kidneys every now and then.

Santi had arrived in the hospital just as Dr Montgomery had given you the okay to go home. Beth had left just after the results of your ultrasound (at your insistence), so you were packing your bag as Santi ran into your room, breathless and eyes wide. You’d looked at him with equally as wide eyes, before you hurriedly caught him up, telling him everything was okay, that you just needed to take it easy.

You introduced him to Dr Montgomery, who explained the situation a little better. It calmed Santi down a little, but you still noticed him tapping his foot as he nodded along, his hands resting on his hips as he listened intently. He kept glancing at you, as if you would collapse or suddenly disappear.

He gave you a lift home (in his truck) and insisted he stay for dinner. He cooked some food for the both of you, and you both ate on your couch, Santi wanting to know every detail to what happened. He apologised again and again for not being there, but you told him it was Thanksgiving weekend, you don’t blame him for not being there. No-one could predict what would have happened.

Dr Montgomery had booked you in for another scan a few days before Christmas. Santi insisted on going with you, which you were grateful for, of course. Unfortunately, your placenta hadn’t moved much, and you were booked in for a c-section for the end of January.

You sulked as you walked out of the hospital, pouting.

Santi gave you a small nudge, walking beside you. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

“I wanted to give birth naturally,” you mumble, as you both approach the truck.

Santi grabs your arm gently, stopping you as you stop at the bed of the truck. “I know it’s not what you wanted, and that does suck for you. I’m sorry. But Dr Montgomery said it was the safest option for you and them.”

You sighed. “I feel like it’s...it’s like I’m not...like I’ve already failed as a mother, by bringing them into the world that way.”

Santi looks at you, his eyes filled with empathy. He places a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Listen to me," he says, his voice soft but firm. "Having a c-section doesn't make you any less of a mother. What matters is that you and the babies are safe. That's the priority."

You lean against the truck, staring at the ground as a mix of emotions wash over you. "I just wanted everything to be perfect, you know? A beautiful, natural birth story to tell them when they're older."

Santi gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Life never goes according to plan, especially when it comes to something as unpredictable as having kids. We should know.” he grins at you, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

You give a small laugh at his quip.

He continues. “But that doesn't lessen the love you have for them or the strength it takes to do what's best for their well-being." He pauses, before giving you a reassuring smile. "You're not failing as a mom. If anything, you're making the tough decisions now because you love them so much."

You take a deep breath, absorbing his words, before nodding. “Okay.”

Santi studies you for a moment. “C’mere.” He pulls you into a comforting hug, and you melt into him, allowing the warmth of his embrace to provide a momentary escape from the overwhelming emotions of your appointment with Dr Montgomery. "We'll get through this together.”

You nod against him, just holding him a little longer than necessary before pulling away. “Thank you.”

He gives another laugh. “Don’t thank me for speaking the truth, querida.”

You wipe away at the few stray tears in your eyes before turning to him. “Come on, I gotta get home. Help me get in this junk heap.”

“Hey, don’t insult my truck,” Santi says in mock offence, before he smirks and opens the door for you, and helps you climb in.

He drives you in silence as you talk to him about work, how you’ve taken a step back and you hate it but you’re willing to do it for less stress. Harriet was a little apprehensive when you told her, that she needed you on board for this newest client, that the product was about to launch but you didn’t back down. You told her that you weren’t backing away, but just taking on less of the load. Emily and Kelsie were happy to take some of the tasks; Hell, Kelsie was practically frothing at the mouth for the opportunity to add on some more responsibility than she already had. She told you herself she wanted most of the glory since this was her first big client.

“Bit of a shitty thing for Harriet to do, guilt trip you like that.”

You shrug. “That’s just Harriet. I’ve grown used to it,” you say. “Been there long enough.”

“Since graduation, right?”

You nod. “Yup.”

“Ever thought about leaving?”

Your eyes widened as you turn to look at him. “Why would I do that? I’ve built myself up, I have a relationship and reputation with clients.”

Santi shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. “I dunno. Seems like you’re underappreciated and overworked, from what you’ve told me. Is there no other marketing firm in Florida?”

“There is - “

“Shop around,” Santi said, as if he wasn’t asking you to consider leaving the only current stability you had in your life right now. “See if anyone is hiring, for a better position or just to be treated a little better.”

“I think it’ll be the same everywhere,” you say, laughing a little.

Santi shrugged. “Just putting it out there.”

You nod. “I mean...I’ll think about it. Maybe after Christmas. Or after I’m back from maternity leave.”

It goes quiet again for a few minutes before Santi asks, “What are you doing for Christmas?”

You shrug. “I have no plans. Beth offered to have me over again, but I feel like I can’t keep intruding on their time.”

“If they’ve asked you to join them, I don’t think you’ll be intruding.”

Your family had still not contacted you. You had messaged the group chat again, accepting that there would probably be no reply still (and there wasn’t). You had another episode, alone this time, sitting on your couch late at night, stereotypically sobbing into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream as you watched Home Alone. It had been your favourite as a child, and something you had watched together with your family, after you’d put the decorations up. This year, you had no tree, no decorations, and you watched it alone.

It had been a sad night.

“You could always...” Santi said a little awkwardly, before clearing his throat. “You could always spend it with me. If you wanted. You don’t have to.”

You look at him with wide eyes, but Santi keeps his gaze on the road, an air of nervousness surrounding him. “You...want to spend Christmas with me?”

“I would have asked you to Thanksgiving but I didn’t...my sisters...”

“I wasn’t expecting you to invite me,” you said, sensing his anxiousness. “Please don’t think over on that.”

“I should have invited you - “

“Santiago,” you say, firmly, causing him to give a quick glance at you before looking back at the road, turning to your apartment’s street. “I am okay. We are okay. You were visiting your family for the first time in years. I didn’t need to be there.”

He goes silent, his jaw tensing like he wants to say something else, but he just sighs through his nose and gives a tight nod.

You reach over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I would love to spend Christmas with you.”

“Have you spoken to Gabs recently?”

You look at Courtney with a confused look on your face as you reach for your water. “I mean, I spoke to her last week about the kids’ Christmas presents. Why?”

You and Courtney had met up for some last-minute Christmas shopping, and you stopped for some dinner before heading home. You had to admit, Gabrielle had been a little off when you spoke to her last week and you had asked if everything was okay, but she had just told you it was Christmas stress. It wasn’t so farfetched, Gabrielle hosted every year for her and Matthew’s families, so of course there was no reason to not believe her.

“Hm,” said Courtney, her brow furrowing. “She’s been a little…weird.”

You shrug. “I mean…she seemed off when I spoke to her, and I asked her about it but she said it was Christmas stress.”

Courtney shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just…bugging me.”

“We could talk to her about it,” you say. “But you know Gabs, she’ll come to us eventually when she’s ready to let us know what’s going on.”

Courtney shook her head for a moment before giving you a look. “You’re right. You’re right! I’m just worried about her.”

“She’ll be fine,” you say. “You know what she gets like at Christmas, she’s hosting for everyone. And you know Matthew’s family.” You give Courtney a pointed look.

Courtney pulled a face. “Yeah. They’re assholes to her. But she keeps hosting!”

“Look, we tell her this every year and you know what she says – “

“’It’s only once a year’,” you both say in unison.

“Exactly,” you say. “So she’ll probably be back to normal after Christmas.”

“Fine. Fine,” said Courtney. “Let’s talk about something else. Like how you’re spending Christmas with Santiago!”

“I am,” you say, feeling your cheeks warming slightly.

“I think that’s nice,” Courtney says. “You’re like...starting your family. Getting the traditions in.”

You nod. “Yeah, I think so too. If this is something we do every year, then best start now, right?”

“You going to his place?” Courtney asked, before thanking the waitress for bringing your food over.

You nod, also thanking the waitress. “It’ll be easier since most of my stuff is packed up now. Thanks again for that, by the way.”

“No problem,” Courtney said, digging into her food. She gives you a grin. “It’s exciting, but also a little sad. It’s the end of an era, but the start of a new one.”

“In a month’s time, I’m going to be a mom,” you say, your eyes wide as if you don’t quite believe it yourself. “How weird is that?”

“Stop it,” said Courtney. “Who knew you would be the next one to have a kid?”

You snort, tucking into your own food. “I don’t think anyone thought I would have a kid, full stop.”

“No,” said Courtney, shaking her head. “I think you would have. Just in ten years.”

“Well, life didn’t work out how I’d planned,” you said, laughing. “But it’s good. Life is good.”

“And you’re happy?” Courtney asked.

Were you? Happy? You go quiet as you think. Obviously, you hadn’t planned to get pregnant, and with twins for that matter, in your tiny one-bedroom apartment, or not be speaking to your parents, or be questioning your job. But here you were, about to finish the year with a new house, amazing friends, new babies, and Santi.

Oh, Santi.

You never thought you would have met someone like Santi, even though you both weren’t together-together. You were lucky to have him; most men after one-night-stands would have left by now, but not Santi. He was sticking around, and in it for the long run. And honestly, you know he wouldn’t feel the same way about you than you felt about him, but he loved you as a friend and the mother of his kids, and you adored that he wanted to help you raise these babies together.

You slowly smile and look at Courtney. “Yeah…yeah, I’m happy.”

You pull up outside Santi’s apartment, taking a deep breath before climbing out of the car. You'd been simultaneously looking forward to Christmas with Santi, and dreading Christmas with Santi. He told you that it was his first year spending it in Florida since returning from Colombia and warned you that his Christmas dinner would probably be something he could quickly rustle up and wasn’t too much hassle - ‘very non-traditional’ was what he said. You didn’t mind; the year had been incredibly ‘non-traditional’ for you anyway.

You make your way up to his apartment, a large bag of presents in your hand. You knock, biting your lip nervously as you waited for Santi to open the door. You look up as the door opens, and you give a laugh at Santi. He was wearing an obnoxiously bright red jumper with a Santa knitted into it, and a Santa hat, and was wearing his usual jeans. He had a bottle of beer in his hand.

He holds his arms out wide as he grins at you. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” you say as you step inside, still laughing at his outfit.

Santi closes the door behind you before he brings you into a quick hug. “I don’t have much of an itinerary today, but Frankie and Sarah might stop by later with Sofía.”

You nod, pulling back from him. “That works out, actually, because I got something for Sofía,” you say, motioning to your bag.

Santi gives you a small, closed-lipped smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t,” you say. “I wanted to. They’re a big part of your life, therefore, they’ll be a big part of our kids’ lives.”

Santiago doesn’t say anything as you make your way into his living room, where he had a small Christmas tree in the corner, overly decorated. You hear Santi make his way into the kitchen as you took the presents out of bag and placed them underneath, smiling as the pile grew. You look up as Santi makes his way into the living room. “Some of these from your sisters?”

He nodded, handing you a can of Diet Coke. “Yeah. I saw them last week, dropped off gifts then. I just got off the phone with them, since my nieces had just opened their Barbie dolls, with their cars, and pets, and accessories...”

You giggled, opening the can. “There’s an awful lot of girls in your family.”

He nodded, grinning. “I have a few cousins who are guys, who had a few boys. I'm not totally overruled.”

You give a small laugh as you sip at your drink. “So, do you want to do presents now? Or later? We could eat first, if you wanted.”

“The empanadas are resting in the fridge, and I have mac and cheese in the slow cooker,” said Santi, taking a gulp at his almost forgotten beer. “Got all sorts of vegetables and potatoes roasting in my oven too.”

“Sounds like a feast,” you say. You could feel your mouth watering. “Maybe we could eat soon?” you give Santi a big smile.

He chuckles at you before nodding. “I’ll put the empanadas in.”

You nod as Santi disappeared back through the kitchen. You look at the presents, and the small tree, and the fact that his living room was bare of any other decorations. Your mind wandered to the fact that this was his first Christmas since settling down, that he was in an actual home and not in a shack or seedy motel somewhere in South America. You really appreciated that he offered you his place for the day, that he’d gone out of his way – and his comfort zone – to bring you into his space again.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You look up at him, blinking in confusion before you realise you were crying. You give a small laugh of slight embarrassment. “I didn’t realise I was crying, I'm sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, cariño,” he said, taking a seat next to you on the floor, giving you a concerned look as he rested his hand in the middle of your back. “Is there anything I can do for you? I knew today would be difficult, I don’t want you to be here if you don’t want to be - “

“No, Santi, really, I'm fine,” you say, cutting him off. “I’m just hormonal. I cry at everything.”

He hesitated for a moment before asking, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here, just because I asked - “

“I want to be here, Santi,” you say, reaching over and squeezing his hand that was still wrapped around a beer. “Really, I’m fine. I just...I like that I'm here, you know? I like that you want me here.”

Santi paused for a moment, looking at you before he gives a grin. “Of course, I want you here.”

You give another weak laugh. “Okay then.”

You help him in the kitchen with the food, and of course as soon as you sit down to eat, Frankie and Sarah make their way through with Sofía, profusely apologising for interrupting for not texting beforehand. Santi told them it was fine, and after a few hugs and a quick catch up between you and the Morales’, you all sit to have something to eat.

You get to know the Morales’ a little more intimately than you did on Halloween; you were in a smaller setting with fewer people, and Sarah wasn’t so distracted by the other guests. She was fun, and loud, and someone you could see getting along with for a long time. Frankie was the opposite; quiet, and observant, but you could see how much he opened up to Santi. He wasn’t rude to you at all, including you in the conversation when he could, and you could see why Santi loved him so much.

And then there was Sofía, who giggled at everything you said, and kept trying to steal the mac and cheese on your plate, even though Sarah kept adding more to her plate. You didn’t mind, but Sarah insisted she stop doing it (“It’s becoming a whole thing, we’re trying to nip it in the bud now, while we can!”). When you all finished dinner, you offered to do the dishes, but you were rebuffed when you were lead into the living room, Santi quickly clearing up the plates, saying he’d ‘deal with them later’.

Sarah plonks you down in the armchair by the tree before she hands you an envelope. “This is more for when the babies are here than right now, but it’s valid for three years.”

You look at her in confusion before you open the envelope, mouth falling open as you take a look at the expensive gift voucher. “Sarah, I can’t accept this!”

“Oh sure you can,” she says, waving you off.

You thank her profusely, before you lean down and grab a few boxes from under the tree. “I got some things for Sofía – “

“You didn’t have to do that!” cried Sarah.

“Don’t be silly, here,” you say, handing the toddler the boxes, who took more interest in the wrapping paper than the actual present.

As you and Sarah sit, you look up for Santi and Frankie, who were strangely quiet. You’re taken aback to find them stood close together, quietly arguing with one another. Frankie was pointing at Santi’s chest and saying something too quiet for you to hear, but it was filled with anger, nonetheless. Santi merely argued back.

You look away, putting a mental note in it. You’ll ask Santi about it later.

As Sofía played with the wooden doctor’s set, and the baby doll that you’d gotten along with it, you chatted to Sarah before Frankie finally made his way over. “I think we oughta go.”

Sarah nodded. “Shoot, you’re right, we promised we’d see your mom like, an hour ago.”

As they gather their things and say their goodbyes (Santi and Frankie were still tense), you and Santi were left alone. You look around and sigh, before looking back at him. “What was that about?”

“What?” Santi asked, going around the living room and collecting wrapping paper, avoiding eye contact.

“You and Frankie, what were you arguing about?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Santi, shaking his head. “Something stupid with Benny, you know how it is.”

You don’t feel like he’s telling you the truth, but you know if you pry, Santi is more likely to close up. You slowly nod at him. “Okay. Sure, yeah.”

He finally looks at you and gives you a tight smile. “Everything is okay, hermosa.”

You hesitate before nodding then glancing at the presents under the tree. “I think we should do our gifts now.”

“Okay,” Santi said, before patting you on the back as he passed you to go back into the kitchen, tossing the papers away.

You settle on the floor by the tree, and lean over and grab a few gifts, placing them by Santi as he joined you moments later. “I didn’t go overboard - “

“I don’t believe that,” Santi said from his own place under the tree before he pulled out a small box, wrapped somewhat neatly, and placing it in front of you. “Now, this doesn’t look like a lot but - “

“Stop, Santi, it’s fine,” you say. “It’s about the sentiment.”

Santi nodded, before going quiet, glancing at you at the present. You grin and nod to him. “You go first.”

He gives a small laugh before nodding at the boxes in front of him. “Any particular order?”

“Nope,” you reply.

Like a child, Santi didn’t have to be told twice. He immediately tore into the gifts, smiling widely at the new shirts you’d bought him, and a nice watch. He immediately put it on, before admiring it.

“This is nice,” he said, still admiring it.

“I know you like swimming, so it’s waterproof too,” you say. “And it tracks your exercise. Since you refuse to get an Apple Watch, I went for the next best thing.”

“Thank you, hermosa,” he says, before opening his last gift. He pauses as he looks down at the strap for a guitar.

“I know you’ve been trying to get back into it, and I know your current strap is falling apart,” you say, smiling. “I thought you could do with an upgrade. And look!” you pull the strap from the wrapping before finding the end and pointing. “I have it engraved with your initials.”

“This is…this is great, cariño. Thank you,” he said, before he stands quickly and leaves the room. He comes back a few moments later, guitar in hand as he settles back on the floor with you, practically ripping off the old strap. He puts on the new one, and why he was fiddling with it, he pushed the small box towards you. “Like I said, it’s not a lot…”

“Santi, please,” you say as you open the gift. You pause at the sight of the Tiffany box, glancing up at Santi who was now looking at your nervously.

You open the Tiffany box, to find a silver chain-link bracelet, with a charm of a Christmas tree hanging off it. You gingerly take it out the box, looking at it more closely.

“I have more charms, but I can’t give them to you yet,” he said. “I got the tree because it’s…it’s our first Christmas together.”

Oh my God, you might burst into tears.

No, actually, you’re already crying.

“Santiago,” you say, in a high-pitched cry, looking at the bracelet, at the delicate green charm of the Christmas tree.

“Oh, no,” he said, scootching over to you and bringing you into his arms, where you sobbed into shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. If you don’t like it – “

“Don’t like it!?” you cry, pushing away from him, looking between him and the bracelet. “I love it. Put it on me!” you shove it at him before presenting your wrist to him.

Santi chuckled as he shook his head in disbelief, carefully fastening the bracelet around your wrist before he gave a soft kiss to the warmth of your skin. Your heartbeat loudly in your ears as Santi gave your wrist a squeeze and he looked at you with a warm smile on his face. You look at the bracelet, the charm sitting pretty. You smiled widely at it, tears still falling down your cheeks.

“Please, stop crying,” laughed Santi, reaching up to wipe your years away.

“I can’t,” you say, laughing back as you look at him. “I’m pregnant, and hormonal, and you got me a really nice, sappy gift. I love it.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He goes quiet for a moment before he swallows nervously. “I…”

You look at him as he goes quiet. “Yeah?”

The two of you just staring at each other. Eyes locked onto his, you search for the words that seem to linger unspoken on his lips. There's a certain vulnerability in his silence, a hesitance that hangs in the air like the delicate balance before a confession.

"What is it?" you prompt again gently, your heart quickening in anticipation.

His eyes flicker nervously, and you can almost sense the internal struggle within him. It's as if he's wavering on the edge of an abyss, grappling with emotions that have finally found their way to the surface. Could he…could he be trying to say what you think he…

He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in tandem with the weight of his unspoken words. You can feel the gravity of the moment, the tension building between you two, as if the universe itself is holding its breath in anticipation of what he's about to say.

“The next charm you’ll get is in a few weeks, at the baby shower,” Santi finally said, after a long pause.

Oh. That wasn’t what you expected at all. You were –

Wait.

You pause, your brow furrowing as you look at him, tears finally stilling. “The what?”

Santi freezes, his face falling as he looks at you. “Oh, shit.”

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @bluenredndeath, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #pregnant!reader #santiago garcia x f!reader

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aloeverified · 2 years ago

Note

i’m curious do u have any headcanons abt wayne and raj… they are the characters ever

yes 💪

their fullnames are raj kapoor & wayne graham (the most candian name ever for the most candian character ever).

wayne was always way taller than raj growing up, but now they're roughly around the same height. it's just not obvious to most people since wayne wears boots and raj sticks with his trusty converse. raj is just pushing 5'10 and wayne's a little over 5'11.

raj has two younger siblings who are twin brother and sister and are much younger than he is. wayne is an only child, but their families are so intertwined that they basically consider him their older brother too.

they're juniors in high school (assuming that's how it works in canada, too lazy to google it rn) and are about seventeen. they don't look or act super young, but they still got the "when i'm older" type of vibe that most people who are right about to graduate don't really have.

they've been best friends for a while, but not quite childhood best friends. i think they met during gym class of sixth grade and just instantly hit it off due to their shared interests in sports and humor.

raj's parents are first generation immigrants so they're not completely fluent in english and have a bit of an accent when they talk. since his moms raised him to be the most highly of gentlemen, wayne asked raj to teach him a bit of telugu so he could make polite conversation with them whenever he came over without all the pressure being on them. that was his first step to almost being immediately adopted by them.

this actually caused them to both realize they really enjoy studying languages. they continued studying telugu together, with raj tutoring wayne. wayne also decided to take up french classes early, and raj had his parents sign him up to learn the basics of other southern indian languages they knew. they both view this as a helpful skill for when they're international hockey stars, of course.

they live in a decently smaller-sized town, so despite not being neighbors, they still find a way to be at each other's house every other day. they switch off depending on what they're feeling, and their parents learned to accept that they're a package deal that comes and goes whenever they please.

since his parents discovered he was gay through the show rather than raj actually coming out to him, they — along with wayne's moms — thought it would be funny to turn his coming home party from the show into a coming out party as well. raj realized this when he cut into the cake and it was rainbow inside.

his family was very adamant about showing raj how supportive they are. he wasn't sure why, as their best friends were a lesbian couple and his best friend was the son of said couple, but they still repeatedly told him how proud of him they were and how much they loved him. the only pushback he received was his nani complaining about how he wasn't allowed to date until he was thirty and that this bowie boy was ruining that.

teacher hate these two. they never shut up in class, will ditch their assigned partners to work with each other, never get their work done, and yet still manage to have good grades (because they know they won't be able to play otherwise). no one understands how they do it.

they always have the most over-the-top cartoony outfits for spirit weeks. even the asb and student council kids find it embarrassing how much school spirit they have.

besides their accidental menace behavior, they never actually get into any real trouble at school. the only time they've ever gotten suspended was when wayne wanted to test his new padding gear and rammed himself into the lockers at full force and nearly killed himself while raj recorded.

because of their ridiculous stunts they like to post, wayne has a bit of a following on social media. he doesn't really do it to be an influencer or for attention or anything, he just likes being able to look back on all the fun moments he and rajie have together. that's one of the reasons they were so eager to be on total drama, to showcase their awesome friendship and have the tapes of all their fun challenges together.

they work part-time at the local ice rink, where they were able to land jobs due to their skills on the ice. they even work the same shift most of the time since they have the same availability hours, although they switch off between standing behind the counter and supervising on the ice. sometimes they both get to help out with the little league hockey teams, though, which they both really enjoy.

#asks #total drama #td headcanons #td raj #raj kapoor #td wayne #wayne graham #rayne #wayraj #<- can be read as platonic or romantic #not a lot of romantic undertones though but im open to come up w some #ik i mentioned bowie but i feel like there wasnt enough of him to tag #maybe ill make a bowraj post soon #aloeverants #also sorry this is late ive been working all week 😿#stunfiskz

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razzberrydazz · 2 months ago

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Slightly (ok maybe more than slightly) ranty personal update

IRL friend is going through medical emergency (without health insurance in the hellscape that is America) so I am NOT able to donate to any extra fundraisers right now, currently focusing my energy to help her since I prefer my close friends to not end up homeless. She's had to make her own GFM for it.

I will make a post sharing this friend's fundraiser in an effort to help them, but I am not otherwise willing to share new fundraisers at the moment. I know I have managed to gain a reputation as a fundraiser helper but I am not made of money and I already have very limited mental energy.

My current "job" is acting as my elderly mother's caretaker and any money I have is basically an allowance from her and my dad, I have to play nice with them if I want to have any money for myself let alone anyone else.

I try my best to be a patient and compassionate person, yet behind it all I am indeed someone that has anger issues, and I am at my wit's end right now. To the people I've already shared my whatsapp with, I will continue helping you and offering support even if it's just sharing the fundraisers and offering a space to vent and share cat photos.

More rant under the cut, TLDR I hate this godforsaken country and how it hurts both itself and others all for short-sighted financial gain.

Days like these remind me why I hate living in America and being an American, the country I am a part of is causing misery and suffering across the world, it is warmongering and causing untold hardship and death all in the name of short term profit, while its own citizens cannot afford basic necessities and risk homelessness and extreme debt if they lack health insurance.

Even with health insurance, everything is too expensive. People here can't afford rent. Fellow Americans resorting to fundraisers to cover rent and medical expenses because their country will not help them. Friends living with friends or stuck living with their parents because rent is Too Damn High. The wealth of the world plundered to be at this country's fingertips, and yet the average citizen is on the edge of financial ruin and is one medical mishap away from losing everything. Vital medications regularly have shortages and are often too expensive to reliably get. I don't need to read a book to see a Dystopia, I am living in it right now. I don't need to catastrophize about a fascist capitalistic hellscape because I already see it here and now.

This Country has such a bad case of Main Character Syndrome that both the government and its citizens treat all this country's issues as more important than anyone else's, to the point that other countries have to cater to this country's politics and whims.

Do kind courteous generous Americans exist? Yes. Every place has good and bad people. But even the kindest American benefits from a system that functions via the disenfranchisement of others. A system built by taking advantage of others for financial gain.

Non-Americans are right to have at best a healthy distrust of America, at worst complete vitriol for this country and what it has done to the world at large. I don't blame non-Americans one bit for hating America, even hating Americans as a whole for the hurt caused by this country. You process and handle your anger and grief in your own ways, everyone does, and I won't hold a grudge for a non-American being prejudiced against me on principle of me being American.

I've seen firsthand the vitriol and ignorance fellow Americans can have for the world, for their fellow countryman who happen to not be Like Them - I have seen my own family tout bigoted talking points and parrot back hate and fearmongering racism. The racism, the misogyny, the xenophobia, the Christian religious extremism. It makes me sick. Can't therapize our way out of a fundamentally flawed system.

In conclusion, is America okay? Absolutely not.

#personal #update #razz rants #razz rambles #suffering in an imperialist capitalist hellscape while the empire I am a part of causes misery and suffering across the world #I'm so fucking tired #But curling up and shoving my head in the sand isn't an option #I have to continue #if only out of spite #rant #vent #vent post #this is america

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namelessmewmew · 2 months ago

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Old Art Archive Part 5.

Original captions under the cut.

1 - 3. Title: Petals, Sparkles and Unicorns [+ bonus of the other two pieces I have of her, that also happen to be old, left being newest of said two]. More csp testing stuff. Went a bit ham with its built in decoration brushes, Petal Brush, Grass Brush, Sparkle Brush [There's even a glitter brush, which I'm sure I will use at least a few times] ……. Happy enough with how this came out. Def need to draw her more.

4. Title: The Heart of My Eye. Uni stuff has been getting more hectic so haven't been able to draw as much [and what I have been drawing has been stuff that won't see the light of day until late this year probably]. Had the idea of a loveletter head character so just made this in csp, don't really like how this came out but oh well. Also probably going to redesign them a bit whenever I draw them again.

5. Title: The Imp Stick. Redesigned Nameless because I wanted to make him more self indulgent [I like horns, imp tails and faceshadows alot]. Used my usual method of exporting each frame as a image and then throwing them into ezgif, I think I should learn how to use clips built in animation abilities.

6. Title: Don't cry over spilt glitter. Uni work busy and hard, and been making a bunch of stuff I don't to post yet so dipped into my favourite thing, aka redesigning "old" characters [like it as much as designing new ones].

7. Title: Kitty Kitty Cat. Just a little cat, shes actually a pretty old character of mine, just redesigned her recently. I really need to draw and post more often.... Sort of like how the shading came out by I'm still kinda shit at it Might draw some more cause I have alot of old animal characters to redesign.

8. Title: Old Gay Cat named Juliet. Another cat laby, this time Sarah's mom, Juliet! Shes also been redesigned but not as much as Sarah. Going to do Sarah's other mom next [which until recently didn't have a design at all but still working on it a bit] Really like how the pose of this came out [still iffy on the shading though..]

9. Title: 2022 Pride Icon. New Icon/Pride Icon [might use this after pride month and just swap out the bg, or might a new one later]. and yes I used a very similar pose to my last upload, I just liked how it looked so used it again. Happy Pride Everyone!

10. Title: Filters and Fingerguns. I have been trying to draw more stuff lately :], liking the stuff I have been making, especially like how the hair and eyes of this came out of this came out :3. The character here is Eve, Juliet's wife and Sarah's second mom.

11. Title: Smiles and Glitter. I know I should be drawing the characters I have already more hut I really like designing new characters..... k? and felt like I needed another sparklecat....[I need more sparkle anything really] Also tried to emulate the look of those old blingee? gifs and it looks okay enough. Going to try to figure out how to do it better.

12. Title: Metamorphosis. Yeah another bright sparkly cat.....a character I have actually been thinking about designing for month's, A trans flag coloured lynx with a lil golden bell that shines like a rainbow in the light. A mascot-y character that's meant to idk be anti-thesis to how big corps pretend to like us during pride months by just changing their logos to rainbow and selling overpriced pride merch, then just change their logos back and don't do anything more about it for the rest of the year, I guess? Like a mascot thats undeniably queer in colours and otherwise I guess. My brain feels a bit slow and foggy right now right now so I might not be articulating well.

13. Title: Splat. Haven't posted here for a month and lost steam for artfight not long into it [will post attacks I did once month is over], but I did make my first game, a rpgmaker game that is about 10 to 15 minute rpgmaker game for a mini jam. Thought maybe I should post about here at least once, https://namelessmewmew.itch.io They technically can be named whatever by the player but I wanted to give me a 'true' name as well, so here is Splat./colour-less

14. Title: 'Fuck you! Catboys your Demon'. I can't just not put my sona/main character though multiple redesigns/design updates, I wouldn't be NamelessMewMew, if I didn't! Going the opposite route in terms of adding things to his design lol compared to my old sona [casanova, a cat like creature that I added demon features to, I need to redesign them again at some point.] I need to learn how to draw stubble properly... and also maybe change the eyes a bit, you looks kinda uh high rather than just tired.

15. Title: Aging. Just feels weird, so a little doodle thing.

16 - 17. Title: Prancing in the night. Wanted to start another art practice dump to practice shading, decided to do my personal characters to motivate me more but then got really into it and added more and more shading/lighting, then thought this would look very stupid without a bg, then added lighting to that bg and then wanted the stars to sparkle.... [which I hope loads as its not loading in the preview I'm seeing now] yeah I guess I can make this its own deviation. The bg is a bit mid quality but I'm glad I did because I don't do proper bgs much, but I do really love how the Plushie came out in this, especially the pose [and shading]. Though the gif site I use makes transparency kinda uh line-y? Basically the lighting and shading looks smoother than this originally, though I don't mind how it looks

Anime Girl Art Dump:

Title: Art Practice: 1. Ramble-y stuff: Been in a hating my art phrase because there's lots of parts of art I'm not great with, shading, anatomy, perspective, backgrounds..... so forth But can't get myself practice without also posting it but also it has to be good enough to post [when I feel my art is bad then I feel like I can't waste the time spent on it by not posting it but I also feel like I'm somehow a bad person for being bad at art]..... so going try to do dumps like this where I try to focus on certain things. Hopefully I can improve at least a bit this year. About the art: This is mostly Hair Shading + Faces + Eyes Practice, but also tried to draw various different hairstyles. Want to do more experimenting with how I draw eyes and hair...

Hands and Eyes Art Dump:

Title: Art Practice: 2. More art practice, this time hands [done mostly by memory and a bit by using my hands as ref] + eyes [more just the irises and pupils rather than eyes as a whole]. Like where I am getting with eyes but really need to work on hands alot more.... Can't think of anything else to say really cause tired... other than its 4 days till I'm 20 which is wild.

#Nameless Creates #Nameless Archive

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shatcey · 24 days ago

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unrelated but people who make you feel safe talking about your interests are the BEST people.

Oh, that's sweet… thank you. It's nice to meet someone who is on the same wavelength with you and can understand you surprisingly well, it's a pretty pleasant experience. But I would say the intention to understand a different point of view can be interesting as well. Looking at the world through other people's eyes is a challenge, but it no less rewarding. It expanded your knowledge and gave you ideas that you wouldn't have been able to get otherwise. More opinions - wider mind. My point is... I'm incredibly selfish.

Is this a good time to mention that Alfons's Kate and you talk so much alike for me that I'll be reading his route and be like… Where is Shay's paycheck cause she must have worked on this for Kate to sound so much like her.

OMG, thank you🥹… that's… probably the best thing I've ever heard in my life… I've felt a connection with this Kate ever since I read Ally's route on JP. I really see myself in this story… almost from the very beginning. And I completely agree with all her actions and decisions… But I didn't expect anyone else to notice this… this… extremely sweet. Thank you. I won't cry, I won't!!! I don't need Roger's card!!!!!! Ally won't let him in anyway.

Indeed, Rumpel filled the room with gold… and each time king ordered more and more spacious rooms to be filled. This king is a pretty greedy guy. Now that I think about it… there are a lot of very nasty people in this story, but the guy they called the villain didn't do anything wrong. He just wants a child. What kind of crime is that??? Maybe he'll be a great parent… probably much better than this greedy king and manipulative woman.

The problem with a good theory is that the more you think about it, the more arguments you can find in favor of "this should be the one." But it can also be wrong, so I try not to stuck on one idea and find something else. So I will probably write a new post about the ideas you inspired me to. This one turned out to be quite long even for the most enthusiastic readers.

But… about the hair… I found this beautiful picture of how to draw a character. I'll use the first one (it's not because it's easier to count that way).

The picture from the Youtube.

On the sprite, Vivi's hair covers his… butt. It's a normal word. So, absolutely randomly, we got the number 4 out of 7, which is surprisingly perfect for the length of his hair.

Vivi's height is 183.5 cm. If we divide it by 7 and multiply by 4, we get the length of his hair. It's somewhere around… 104.8 cm. Actually even before the calculation, I thought it should be a meter…

I took another look at the Wiki (why not?)

And I've also heard that men's hair grows faster. I'm starting to envy them. Their eyelashes are longer, there are fewer wrinkles, and their hair grows faster. If the first two could be explained by the fact that they don't use so much cosmetics, then the latter… It's just not fair! Continue. So… let's take the average number, as they say… 1 cm per month. It will be 12 cm per year. And… if we divide our 104.8 cm by these 12… it will be 8.7 years.

So he grew that hair in 8.7 years. IF!!!!! He didn't cut it. Which is unlikely, hair tends to get worse at the tips and starts to fall out if you don't trim it. You literally have to cut your hair to make it longer - another paradox of this world.

And since I feel a certain connection with this guy (a girl can dream), I would say that he started growing it (hair) when he created the Crown… as a symbol. It's pretty random… but I got my first tattoo because I wanted to have something that would stay with me forever. I only had two of them, I more into meaning than numbers. Perhaps he had similar thoughts. He wanted something to keep growing… in his life. And it pretty much matched his cursed ability… Which I'll talk about later.

I need time to collect my thoughts… I have too many of them.

I wish we could see Victor's face when we tell him we stopped looking into human villains like no, you're definitely either have been confused with a poisonous apple or a tower to lock up a girl in. I bet we'd get that adorable taken aback puppy face! Your honor is this the face of a killer? No, no it's not.

Let's ask him on X/Twitter during the promotion campaign before release of his route. I hope he answers that.

Victor please come quick the girls are waiting for your route :')

Vivi probably agrees with Willy and just give us time to unravel all his mysteries… because it's so... much... fun)

Victor theories. His curse.

Just because I'm already mentally ready to Victor's route, and it's still sooooo long before it'll be released… to brighten up the wait, I decided to think about this gorgeous man. At least while Ally isn't watching. First of all… I like Vivi right from the prologue. He wasn't my the most favorite (and still he's just the second), but I always was interested in him. Not as a leader of Crown, father (or rather say mother) figure of the boys or Queen's aid, but just a person. Then I think about Vivi, about the fairy tale he could be from… the feeling that "I should know this", "it's somewhere very close", "I can catch this thought at any moment", doesn't leave me. But for some reason I cannot figure out. But one line from Dark IF event somehow ignited me, and I finally found something to cling to. I'm not sure if my ideas will be confirmed in his route, but it doesn't matter. I'm doing it JUST FOR FUN…

In his story from the "Dark IF. part 2" event which @.reccyls beautifully translated, was a line that he was from a very old fairy tale.

I looked into the Wiki and find this part.

A little bit about the fairy tales from this list:

Jack and the Beanstalk. We've probably all heard at least a little bit about this story. The guy grew a huge beanstalk and climbed up to the clouds where the giants live. He stole from them and eventually killed the giant. Do you really need to explain who I see as the villain here? But… I don't see Vivi in this story at all.

Beauty and the Beast. Another story we've all heard about. The prince was proud and rude, and some fairy or witch (I don't remember, it doesn't matter) turned him into a beast. And the only way to become a human again is if beautiful (why beautiful?) woman fall in love with him, despite his appearance. The villain is obvious but… I kind of understand her and don't even blame. There are several versions of this tale. There is even one in which the witch who turned the prince into a monster was his aunt, who wanted to marry him. Damn it, these fairy tales are no different from the Greek myths. Cybird used this concept to create a full-size game. I doubt they will use it again.

Deal with the Devil. In my opinion, this is a less common story. Simply put, this is the legend of Faust, who sold his soul to the devil for endless knowledge. But different versions have different main characters and the reasons why they sold their souls. But the result is always the same: the dark creature literally came for what belongs to him, and was deceived. Again… I'm not sure who the villain is here, and… this story could actually work.

Rumpelstiltskin. Some very strange man boasted that his daughter could make gold out of straw, and… to help the poor girl do as her daddy claimed, a little man came and helped in exchange for her firstborn. I've never understood why do they even need children? Do they have problems with childbirth? Or… No, there's nothing to eat… Why are they needed them? Note that I'm not even considering the possibility of making the protagonist suffer. There must be something for the villains. I see only inconveniences. So in order to keep the child, they need to guess his name. The villain was deceived again. In the milder version, he runs away, in the bloody version, he kills himself. I really feel sorry for the guy. Another good option.

Swan maiden. It's harder to explain. This is not a fairy tale, but a concept involving a character who can transform from a swan into a human and back again. We already know about "Swan Lake", which is actually based on this concept. There is a story about guy who marry a swan lady and hid her skin so that she cannot transform. And there was also a male version, which for some reason I remember very well. Some witch who turned (I think) 7 brothers into swans and their younger sister needed to sew them nettle shirts. Assemble it, make threads from it and sew clothes. Probably, the concept of creating clothes impressed me so much when I was a child that I still remember it. But… We already have swan boys, so I doubt Victor is from the same story.

So… I've stopped on two options.

Deal with the Devil

At the "Death or Love" event (yes, I couldn't wait a month, I read it again), his thought led me to think that it might be related.

Maybe it's just a figure of speech, but for me it sounds like he sold his soul. But in the fairy tale, the one who sold his soul was the main character, not the villain. Even though he tricked the dark creature in the end, he's still kind of a good guy… Oh, those double standards. As much as I would like to consider this option, I'm more inclined to the other one.

Rumpelstiltskin

Let's take a look at Victor himself

The first thing I noticed right away (obviously after his hairs) was how many layers he had. I see three coats, and the value of the top one is the most questionable. It is shorter than the other two, with very wide sleeves and some metal fragments on one side and nothing to connect them with on the other. A really strange coat. Probably just for show. Where else would he hide his pigeons?

So… layered clothes. Not only the coat, but his entire image consists of many layers. A shirt, a vest, one of the coats looks like another vest, and three coats. Even his shoes seem to consist of several layers. The obvious one is the horizontal detail on the back of the leg and the triangle on the front side. But the shoe design looks more complicated than necessary.

I don't think I need to explain what thoughts came to my mind because of this. He is an extremely complex person. And finding the real one behind so many layers is probably extremely difficult.

When he takes off his jacket, only a plain black shirt remains. And he looks even more dashing in it. My personal biased opinion.

Another detail that attracted attention is the spikelet motif. A decorative detail of the second coat, the lapel of the coat. The pattern on the lapel of the same second coat somewhat resembles an ear of wheat, and on the third, presumably, a metal pattern. Not to mention his shoulder straps, which really look like wheat ones. Perhaps this impression is created because of the color though.

So his outfit screams of gold (color) and spikelets (motif). And the fact that we don't actually know his real name suggests that he might actually be a Rumpelstiltskin.

Besides, I remembered… the adaptation… this fairy tale, or rather, many fairy tales. Once apon the time (2011-2018). There was the character Mr. Gold. I can't say he's handsome, but he's incredibly charming and funny. I've been watching this series for probably only 2 or 3 seasons, so I don't know if he was later or not. So. He was Rumplestiltskin. I can describe him as a very lonely man whom everyone hates, who has very talented hands (craft) and who is literally fixated on one person. Belle. Damn, why can't they come up with another name? And it pretty much matches Victor's description.

I had another sudden thought… at some event, someone called Vivi the "god of death". And that immediately made me think of Greek mythology. Thanatos.

This article contain too many symbols we already seen. The butterfly and the poppies are from Elbert's Route. And in this legend Thanatos has a twin brother Hypnos (God of Dreams). And who else can be called a hypnotist, if not Alfons? They're not related, right? This can't be!!!

And to complicate things even more, a phrase from the same Dark if event, that makes me doubt everything I found (translated by @.reccyls):

So… It could be a Deal with the devil, with a female protagonist... But the words "over and over again" indicated the reiteration of the same mistake. But if she has already sold her soul how could she repeat that? Groundhog Day? Reincarnation? But I… don't remember anything related to this concept… And "the path that leads to destruction?". In which fairy tale does the main character eventually die for good? I don't know… And again… this feeling… I'm so close, but I still can't reach it.

And at last… The developers could use something completely unrelated to fairy tales. For example, an old lullaby or a creepy story that is told to children to make them docile…

These are just my thoughts, and they most likely have nothing to do with Vivi's real curse. But I extremely enjoy to build a chain of assumptions, you never know what it might lead to...

The design of the spikelet on the dividers is from Designed by Freepik

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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#ikemen villains #ikemen villians #ikevil #victor #ikemen victor #ikemen villains victor #ikevil victor #victor theory

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oopsallfictives · 2 years ago

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I see a lot of posts on here where there's some sort of argument that boils down to "kids in high school English classes should be allowed to read YA novels that are currently popular because it would keep them engaged" vs "no, they should only be reading literary classics because you can't teach reading comprehension otherwise" and I'm tired of seeing this debate so hopefully dumping all my thoughts out will make me less annoyed when it comes up on my dash. Gonna put this under a cut cause it's kinda long, but if it influences your decision on whether or not to read the whole thing, I personally come down on the side of letting kids read works they're interested in, YA or not

The idea that you can't teach reading comprehension, literary analysis, or other important skills using works that aren't literary classics doesn't make sense to me. I read plenty of classics in high school English classes and I don't credit that experience with teaching me how to comprehend and critique fiction for a few reasons. One is that despite consistently reading well above my grade level and exceeding every reading comprehension test I ever took, I often didn't understand the books we read in those classes. I can't tell you what happened in Great Expectations or A Tale of Two Cities because Charles Dickens' writing is incredibly hard for me to parse for some reason. Whatever lessons my teachers wanted to impart on me by teaching those books, I didn't get them. Another reason is that I was never actually taught the skills of literary analysis. When you teach by giving students three possible prompts and telling them to write an essay, it kind of doesn't matter what book they're writing about

The fact is, I learned how to comprehend and critique fiction by reading, watching, and listening to a shit ton of it. I was one of those kids who read everything I could get my hands on growing up, and I've continued to consume fiction in my daily life despite not reading as much. I did this because I love fiction, and I love fiction because it was introduced to me in a way that made it enjoyable. My big sister would sit me in her lap before I was able to read and read aloud to me. My mom, sister, and I would often read the same books and discuss them with each other (which also helped teach the skills I mentioned above). The end result of this is that how and why fiction works is my longest and most enduring hyperifxation/SI

That's why the "let kids pick their own books" argument makes so much sense to me. I read Animal Farm in eighth grade because my mom thought I would like it, and I did. The next year we read it in class, and I didn't understand why none of my classmates felt the way I did about it. The fact that Animal Farm is a classic didn't make them any more invested, but the fact that they were forced to read it whether they liked it or not might've had the opposite effect. Forcing kids to read books they don't like just doesn't foster a love of reading or an interest in unpacking what works about a book and what doesn't (also, maybe ask that question instead of telling kids to write an essay on the themes of whatever book you assigned. Identifying a theme isn't the be all end of lit crit). You can't teach people about anything if they don't care enough to learn, so if you want to teach kids about literature, you have to make them care about it

I also want to push back on the idea that, if given free reign, students won't choose to read classics. In 9th grade when given an assignment to read three books from a given genre, I chose dystopia and read Fahrenheit 451, Brave New World, and 1984 (oh, and I chose that genre because I had recently read and enjoyed The Hunger Games so...). That's one of the only assignments I look back on fondly from high school English, and I got a lot out of it. Frankly, I think you can teach the basics skills of lit crit more effectively using short stories as practice, and then letting students choose their own novel(s) to practice those skills on. And if you're using short stories as your mode of teaching those skills, you can fit a lot more of them into a single year, and therefore teach more skills (beyond 9th grade your students should already know how to identify the theme of a work, try something new for the next three)

The fact is, getting kids engaged in their classes is one of the biggest struggles a teacher faces (outside of the problems caused by low pay, a lack of funding, and various levels of school administration, of course). Letting students choose their own books impedes a teacher's ability to teach a lot less than kids not paying attention does

(Also YA novels are written for a teenage demographic whereas many classics are written for a higher reading level, the lifting up of certain novels as classics is tied to racism and classism, and some YA books have all the same merits of whatever classic is getting propped up as essential to learning reading comprehension die mad about it)

#all of this is moot tho cause its actually the school board who makes these decisions and not the teachers #idk email this post to your local school board members or whatever #they probably dont care about tumblr arguments but hey give it a shot #can you tell im bitter about our high school education lmao #the quicksilvers say

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komotionlessqueenmm · 3 years ago

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Imagine # 835

Gif NOT mine.

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - @maxhorrorgifs (Unless told otherwise.)

Year posted - 2021

----

"Thomas get yer ass over here!" Charlie yelled after having knocked the man with blue eyes unconscious. Tommy hurried to his older brothers side, looking down to the man before looking to Charlie. "Take this one up to the attic, he'll be a pet for (Y/n)." Charlie snickered as he thought about the excitement his daughter would feel upon receiving such a generous gift. Tommy nodded his head then picked up the man, tossing him onto his shoulder he carried him straight to the attic, where he chained him up by his wrists and ankles. All the while Charlie went to inform his daughter of the news. "(Y/n) darlin' come here a second." He called out as he knocked on her locked bedroom door, smiling to himself when she obeyed him hastily. "Yes daddy?" She tilted her head with curiosity, her big shining eyes like stars. "I've got a present for ya up in the attic." He chuckled when her eyes lit up with excitement, despite the fact that it was brief. "Come on, I wanna show you." He held his hand out to her, leading her straight to the attic when she took his hand. "Close your eyes sweetie." He ordered softly, leading her the rest of the way a bit slower so she wouldn't trip. "Now open your eyes." He chuckled when she gasped in surprise, turning her attention back to her father. "Go on go play with your new pet." He laughed giving her a gentle push, she nodded her head obediently, before slowly approaching the unconscious man. "I'll leave you kids be." Charlie hummed as he exited the attic, despite the fact that (Y/n) and the man were clearly adults.

Curiously she turned her attention back to the man, before scurrying off to fetch some water and a first aid. When she returned she was both relieved and worried that he was still unconscious. She wet a washcloth then began gently wiping away the blood and grime on his handsome face. He stirred awake before jolting upright with a gasp, starling (Y/n) who quickly scooted away from his reach. "Wha- where am I?" He stammered in a daze, his eyes landing on (Y/n), staring at her with confusion before realization swirled in his eyes. "You?" He frowned trying to remember where he'd seen her before. "You were out at the barn, before the sheriff ran you off." He moved his hand to hold the throbbing side of his head, only to grumble when the chain prevented him from being able to do so. "I wanted to help you, I want to help you." (Y/n) spoke softly, making the man still in his movements. "But I can't... Daddy he'd... He'd kill you, and he'd hurt me." She added nervously, softly biting her lip with fearful eyes. "Get me out of here, and I'll protect you." He tried offering, his frown deepening when she shook her head. "You don't understand... Daddy's lost it, and we're the only ones around for miles... He'd find us, he'd kill us both if I tried running away with you." (Y/n)'s eyes glazed over, scooting a little closer to the man. "This is the only way I can keep you safe, daddy knows you're up here, and I can't risk moving you." She whispered. "There must be someone else around here." He pulled at his chains in a vain attempt to break free. "There ain't, everyone's up and left. Even if we could hide from daddy and uncle Tommy, the elements would eventually kill us." (Y/n) frowned as she looked to the floor with shame in her eyes.

"My names Eric." He spoke softly, a smile ghosting his lips when she peered up at him. "I'm (Y/n)." She mirrored his faint smile, before grabbing the first aid kit. "We can... We can try escaping in time, but we have to wait until its safe, otherwise daddy will be expecting it." (Y/n) whispered as she went back to cleaning up Eric's wounds. "How long will that take?" Eric asked with dread. "I don't know." (Y/n) frowned with sad eyes, feeling sorry for Eric and his friends. "I need to save my brother." Eric stated making (Y/n) still in her work. "The blond?" She asked with worried eyes, pulling away from Eric when he nodded his head. "Uncle Tommy was taking him down into his basement when I was getting this." She pointed to the first aid kit. "Nothing but uncle Tommy comes outta there alive." She added in a quiet whisper, jumping when Eric began pulling on his retrains with all the strength he had left. "I'm sorry." (Y/n) whimpered softly before rushing out of the attic, leaving Eric to have some time to morn in peace. Hours went by, and when the sound of screaming erupted from below, Eric couldn't contain his anger. He screamed, he yelled, he beat the ground with his fists, his chains, anything he could get his hands on. All the while the Hewitt family listened from below, Charlie becoming more and more enraged by the minute. "(Y/n) go quiet that mutt of yours, or I'll do it myself!" Charlie barked at his daughter, who jumped before rushing up to the attic. "Eric please!" She called out over the ruckus he was making. "No those are my friends!" Eric yelled his face red and covered in sweat. "I know and I'm so sorry, but you're making daddy mad, you have to stop." She pleaded, squeaking in fright when he threw a lamp her way, which missed her by a foot or so.

"I don't give a damn about your father!" Eric hollered. "If you don't stop he's gonna kill you." (Y/n) tried to reason with him. "He's gonna kill me anyways!" Eric pulled at his chains again. "No he ain't, as long as you obey the rules, he won't kill you, I swear." (Y/n) approached him, stopping just out of his reach. "And what makes you so certain, huh?" Eric hissed through clenched teeth. "Because he doesn't like upsetting me, but if you push him over the edge, there's nothing I can do to stop him." She murmured softly, jumping when Eric rushed at her, the chains holding him back. It was only then that Eric took in her soft features, noticing just how easy she was on the eyes, especially compared to the rest of her family. Eric felt guilt flood into his heart, at the clear fear in her eyes, the jumpy-ness only confirming his subconscious suspicion. (Y/n) was just as much a prisoner here as he was, if not more so, having been stuck here far longer, without the chance of being put out of her misery. His lips parted to speak, but he was interrupted when Charlie barged into the room. "What did I tell-" He cut himself off with a laugh, taking in the sight before him. "Well well well, what do we have here?" He taunted his words causing a blush to bloom across (Y/n)'s cheeks, who stood frozen, her face only inches from Eric's. "I knew you two would get along just fine." Charlie snickered to himself before leaving the room once more. "Please Eric just do as I say, and I'll keep you safe." (Y/n) pleaded with him, smiling sadly when he nodded his head in agreement, giving up reluctantly for his and her sake, knowing deep down their was nothing else he could do for the others.

----

*I'm seriously tempted to write a short story series extending this even more. What do you think?

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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 4 years ago

Text

It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

#maribat #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #batfam salt #batfam is concerned #Daminette #the aftermath of ‘Like I did with you’#everybody talks by neon trees #max kante has blackmail and will use it #Alix will bite if provoked #dc x mlb #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a meta?#supportive Dupain-Cheng parents ❤️

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mellometal · 3 years ago

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WHAT'S GOING ON? THIS IS PART TWO OF ME RIPPING APART DHAR MANN'S VIDEOS ABOUT FATPHOBIA! Whoo-hoo!

Before I get started, here's an obligatory trigger warning: This post will be talking about fatphobia, bullying, homelessness, mentioned ED, fat shaming, shaming a person FOR EATING, and the abused thanking his abuser AS AN ADULT for tormenting him as a young, impressionable teenage boy.

If any of that is triggering, upsetting, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. Please consume media that sparks joy for you.

This time, there won't be a response from me about this video, like I usually do with all my Dhar Mann posts. If you want to see my response, refer to my first post about fatphobia (the one about the plus-size woman being fat shamed). It does tie in with this post, as my thoughts on this video are the exact same here. Yes, even though this is about a (at the time) plus-size black teenage boy being targeted. Search for the "dhar mann talk" tag and it's one of the most recent posts. I don't believe anyone should be shamed for their weight. Your weight doesn't hold any significance to your worth as a person. Don't let anything or anyone tell you otherwise.

With all of that out of the way, let's get to the video!

To sum up the video, it starts out with a plus-size black teenage boy (Kurt or "Big Boy", as he's called almost throughout the entire video) who's on a basketball court at school with his friend (Mike), a few other teenage boys, and Mike's uncle (Frank) is their coach. Mike is the captain on one team, Frank is the captain on the other team. They're picking teammates, and everyone is on a team except for Kurt and another boy. Frank says to his nephew to not pick Kurt (he called him "Big Boy" instead) because "he'd never win with him". LIKE THEY WERE PLAYING FOR THE NBA. CALM YOUR DICK. HOLY FUCKING HELL. THEY'RE KIDS.

Mike, not listening to his uncle (good for him), picks Kurt anyway. Kurt is happy and thanks his friend for picking him. Mike gives Kurt a shirt that looks at least a couple sizes too small for him and would be pretty uncomfortable to wear. This isn't Mike's fault, obviously. Kurt politely asks if they had a bigger shirt. Obviously not an unreasonable request. They're playing a sport that requires lots of movement (honestly, pretty much any sport would apply here, except for maybe golf or cricket) so it's understandable to want to at least be comfortable and have room to move around. Frank mocks A LITERAL TEENAGER with the whole "You think you're shopping at Big&Tall?" line and then says that's the only size they had (why couldn't they supply inclusive sizes in the first place, or at least ASK Kurt what his size was IN ADVANCE?), which....umm, I'm actually GLAD plus-size clothing for men (Big&Tall, in this case) is more readily available and accessible now. I'm happy plus-size clothing in GENERAL is like that now.

Mike comforts Kurt and says the shirt might fit. The shirt does KIND OF fit Kurt, but it's obvious he's uncomfortable. Look at this screenshot here:

Frank laughs at Kurt, says he looks like Barney The Dinosaur, and the other kids laugh along with their coach. This is NOT setting a good example for children, Frank. You're a fucking teacher. You're a COACH. You're supposed to be teaching these kids about sports and shit. You're supposed to be setting a good example for these kids about teamwork and sportsmanship. WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO A TEENAGE BOY, WHO IS MOST LIKELY ONE OF YOUR STUDENTS, IS TEACHING NONE OF THOSE THINGS. You're teaching these kids that bullying their peers for things they can't help having is okay. Do better. (I'd say that he's an adult and should act like one, but I'm an adult and I barely act like one a lot of the time, so that'd make me a hypocrite.)

While I may be fortunate to have had a physical education teacher who never bashed on me or shamed me for my weight and she would cheer me on for whatever amount of effort I made the first and only year I had actual P.E., I know that many other kids who are plus-size most likely has/had horrible P.E. teachers or coaches like Frank.

To anyone who has/had a teacher or coach like Frank, I'm so sorry, kiddos. You don't deserve to be bullied by your own teachers. I wish I could give all of you a hug, but I can give y'all virtual hugs instead! *virtual hugs* /p

So they play a game of basketball, and Kurt is struggling to fully play because the shirt he was given was probably cutting off some circulation, especially in his arms (again, do I need to reiterate that this was NOT Mike's fault and is FRANK'S fault for his ignorance and negligence). Frank mocks his nephew Mike by saying that he told him not to pick Kurt. Why? Because according to him, Kurt will never make anything of himself in life due to him being fat. (AGAIN, THIS IS NOT TRUE.)

Then it cuts to Kurt sitting with Mike, who's working on his car and Kurt's working on his own thing. Mike says he believes one day he'll own a nice, brand new Cadillac. Kurt is very supportive and cheers his friend on. He says that he believes he'll be one of the biggest radio show hosts and has a title for it called "Big Boy's Neighborhood". Both of them are hyping each other up. Love to see men supporting men. Mike pulls out his Walkman (they were HUGE back in the 80s and 90s because you could listen to the radio from anywhere, I have a Sony Walkman mp3 player, but it's a newer model), and Kurt says that he's always wanted one but couldn't afford it. (I'll go into why in a second.)

Frank comes over to reprimand Mike, who has done NOTHING WRONG, for talking to Kurt. Instead of working, which Mike WAS actually doing. He tries to tell his uncle this, but he wasn't having it. Frank then reprimands Kurt, who also has done NOTHING WRONG, for just sitting and apparently "distracting Mike" (he wasn't). He asks if there's any work he was supposed to do. Kurt FINALLY stands up to Frank in a polite, mature manner. He says that just because he wasn't working with his hands, it didn't mean he wasn't working. Frank ridicules Kurt some more, Mike tells his uncle to leave his friend alone, and Kurt stands up to Frank AGAIN, still being polite and mature. UNLIKE THE ACTUAL ADULT ACTING LIKE A CLICHÉ MIDDLE SCHOOL BULLY WHO PROBABLY PEAKED IN HIGH SCHOOL. How fucking ironic.

What does Frank do in response to Kurt standing up to him? INSULTS THE KID SOME MORE. He tells Kurt that he must have "pig fat for brains" (which is not only insulting to Kurt, but also insulting to pigs, because pigs are intelligent animals), takes his small bag of Doritos, and says that he "doesn't need to be eating anything." He eats Kurt's Doritos IN FRONT OF HIM, tells Mike to quit letting his friend make him lazy (he wasn't doing that at all), and to get back to work.

THAT line made me livid. I've actually thought that I didn't deserve to eat anything because I'm plus-size as a teenager, and into my adulthood at a few points in my life. NEVER say that someone doesn't need to be eating anything. (Obviously except for poisonous things, inedible objects, and things that could and will kill them.) You could cause them to develop an ED, or trigger an ED if they already have one. THAT'S NOT A GOOD THING. EDs are no joke. Whether it be starving, purging, or binge eating, none of them are fun to have and/or to deal with. Even if they DON'T develop an ED, their relationship with food will be all sorts of fucky-wucky. Some even for the rest of their lives. Unless you get proper treatment, of course.

When Frank leaves, Kurt is obviously upset. Rightfully so. How he's feeling is justified. Mike comforts him and says to not let Frank get to him. Mike offers to take Kurt home, but then realizes that his friend and his mom got evicted and are homeless. (This is why Kurt couldn't afford to buy a Walkman.) Kurt, still distraught, says that he'll just walk. Mike invites him over for dinner and that he'd drop him off after, which Kurt agrees to.

They're at Mike's house, having dinner, and Mike's parents are talking to Kurt. They're being supportive. Frank walks in to have his sister's cooking. He sees that Kurt's there. Mike's parents introduce Frank to Kurt, tells him Kurt's gonna be on the radio one day, Frank laughs and says Kurt's not gonna be anything. Kurt brushes it off. He says that his mom says that he can achieve whatever he wants (which is true, to a reasonable extent), Frank cuts him off and says his mom was lying to him, and that his mom knows he's gonna be a big loser.

Mike's dad tells Frank to leave Kurt alone. Mike's mom also says the same thing. Frank asks Kurt if his mom doesn't feed him at home, and what he was doing "eating up all their food" (he wasn't; he just had a singular plate). Mike and his mom tell Frank to stop. His mom explains that they invited Kurt over for dinner, and she tells her brother to sit down and eat. Frank then asks Kurt again if his mom doesn't feed him at home. Mike tells Frank that Kurt and his mom don't have a home because they just got evicted, which is a shock to the parents. Instead of having sympathy for a teenage boy who was on the streets with his mom, HE MOCKS HIM. WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT? Especially to a teenage boy who didn't do anything whatsoever to deserve being evicted from his home and be out on the streets with his mom. I've dealt with being evicted. I've dealt with homelessness. Out of no fault of my own. It's not funny, cool, glamorous, or anything like that. It's terrifying. I'm still traumatized by that experience and it happened four years ago. Sometimes I have nightmares about that kind of thing. The very possibility of becoming homeless and going through that again scares the shit out of me. The thought of it is so triggering for me that I will resort to reverting back to things I used to do when I was a kid. It also doesn't help that I will NEVER be able to afford an apartment on my own where I live now and will probably have to rely on at least two or three roommates and/or family to get by. Thanks a lot, Boomers.

I would never wish what I went through on anyone. Anyways, back to the whole summary of the video.

Kurt gets up and leaves the table. Mike tries to go after his friend to make sure he was okay, but Frank stops his nephew. ONLY WHEN KURT LEAVES DOES FRANK ALL NONCHALANTLY SAY THAT HE'S STARVING AND THAT THEY SHOULD ALL EAT. Despite Frank making Kurt as well as his (Frank's) own family upset.

Kurt walks to where his mom is. His mom notices that he's upset. Kurt tells his mom that it's because of Frank. His mom comforts him and gives him the advice that she gave him before. Kurt is still obviously too upset to take anything she's telling him, bringing up that they're homeless and broke, and his mom is desperate to help comfort her son. She gives him his birthday present early, which happens to be a Walkman. Kurt is shocked. He thought they didn't have that kind of money. His mom says not to worry about that. She pokes some lighthearted fun at her son, he thanks her, and he asks her a question. He asks if she believes he'll be successful or if she's saying that to make him feel better. She asks if he believes he'll be successful (yep), and he tells her that when he succeeds, he'll buy them a house so they don't have to be homeless anymore or worry about getting evicted.

Fast forward to adulthood, Kurt becomes a bouncer, meets someone who works at a radio station, and he goes there. Just to have people laughing at him. He's distraught again and leaves the station, thinking that he made a bad decision. Frank happens to come by, see that Kurt was upset, and asks what's wrong. Kurt tells him what happened, and Frank mocks him AGAIN with the same shit he told him when he was a TEENAGE BOY, now as a YOUNG ADULT. He walks off, laughing.

Nice going! /s Kicking Kurt while he's down JUST LIKE OLD TIMES, RIGHT? FUCK YOU.

Kurt then decides that he's gonna lose weight and be the best radio show host. (Toxic much? Why would you try to preach that your weight = your worth as a person? If you're losing weight for yourself, great! I'm happy for you! If you don't want to lose weight, you don't give a fuck about what people say, and you're happy in your own skin, that's awesome too! Do it for yourself, not for anyone's approval. Try to love yourself and accept yourself in any form you're in. Don't fall for the bullshit that you have to be a certain size or look a certain way for you to love and accept yourself. The weight may be gone, but the rest of your issues will still be there. I have to clarify that I meant this in GENERAL, not necessarily for extremities on either side of the spectrum of weight...because there are things you MUST follow.)

Kurt gets back to the station, ignores all the people being assholes, he's doing his thing, and he's climbing up.

Fast forward to when Kurt is middle-aged. He has his own radio show, and he's one of the biggest names in the radio industry. After he finishes up his show, he goes outside to see a couple of young fans. A young black girl with her brother, a plus-size boy. They say how much they love his show, they got his merch, and the boy tells Kurt that he wants to be just like him. The boy doubts himself though because of people abusing him JUST LIKE what Kurt went through. Kurt empathizes with the boy and tells him a little bit about his own experience. Following them is Frank as an old man. They're his grandkids.

Frank recognizes Kurt, and actually apologizes to him for the torment he put him through as a teenager. WHAT A SHOCK. /srs

Kurt takes it with grace, but says that he should be thanking Frank for all the torment. Why? Because it "motivated him". The girl says that she loves that. (Okay, since she's a kid and there's still time for her to change her mind about certain things, I'm not going to be as harsh here. I don't bash on the kids unless they're doing or saying extremely fucked up things willingly. She didn't say this with bad intentions. I understand you're coming from a good place, and I appreciate that, but please hear me out. This wasn't at all like dealing with edgy thirteen year olds on the internet. This man you look up to was abused by your grandfather in his youth. Your brother is experiencing that same torment your idol went through...at a younger age too, it seems like. The kid looks no older than middle school age [ten or eleven at the YOUNGEST to maybe thirteen or fourteen at the OLDEST]. That's a huge problem. Kurt may have "toughed it out", but that might not be the case for your brother. Please don't excuse that kind of behavior.)

Dude...what the actual fuck? I can understand not being bothered by the hate, but this grown ass man literally VERBALLY AND EMOTIONALLY ABUSED YOU AS A YOUNG, IMPRESSIONABLE TEENAGE BOY, CONTINUING INTO ADULTHOOD, and you're THANKING Frank for all of that? Why should you thank your abuser for what he put you through? He didn't contribute ANYTHING to your success. So I guess abuse is a GREAT contribution to people's success now, right? /s It doesn't contribute to anything, in my opinion. Yes, what doesn't kill you can make you stronger, but can we normalize people becoming weaker to a point due to traumatic events? Because they exist. Demonizing survivors who have become weaker to some degree or just flat-out ignoring them isn't helping. You did the thing you wanted to do, Kurt. Frank didn't help you. The person who really helped you was YOU and your mom.

MOVING ON.

The boy asks Kurt if he thinks he'll ever be able to make it as a radio show host. Kurt asks if HE believes that. The boy says he does. Kurt gives him some advice and gives the boy his Walkman. The boy's ecstatic, they leave, and Kurt goes to meet up with his mom.

Keeping to his promise, Kurt bought his mom a house so she'd never be homeless again and never have to worry about being evicted. (HOW LONG WAS SHE HOMELESS FOR? OH MY GOD. THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW. I hope you at least let her stay with you or something. They never went into that, unfortunately.) She's very grateful. The video ends there.

My personal thoughts on the video: Another piss poor video....but worse! Because it was a COLLAB. And based on a true story. Good going with taking this man's story of being abused by a grown adult to exploit for your personal gain, Dhar Mann! WOW. LOVE THAT! Totally a good look. /s

What I took from this video is that if you're plus-size, according to Dhar Mann, you'll apparently NEVER be successful, let alone be taken seriously...which is an absolute lie. There are many plus-size people who are very successful. Another thing I took from the video is that apparently according to Dhar Mann, being verbally and emotionally abused as a teenager by a grown adult all the way into adulthood is "motivation" for you to work harder to reach your goals. (Nice going, Dhar Mann. Justifying grown adults abusing children. Who would've thought? /s)

Oh, and it's like MANDATORY to thank your abusers for tormenting you when you become successful! (Obviously this is an exaggeration. This is me using Dhar Mann's logic against him.) You want to thank them for making you stronger? Fine. You want to spit in their face and say, "Fuck you." to them? Also fine. You want to just never acknowledge them ever again? Totally fine. Whatever you want to do, that's fine by me, but can you not imply that "thanking" your abusers is mandatory in some way?

If you made it this far, thank you! I hope you're having a good morning/day/afternoon/evening/night. Stay safe, y'all. Love you. /p

#dhar mann #dhar mann talk #dhar mann will live to regret his decision to make these fucked up cringe videos #dhar mann will live to regret his decision uwu #dhar mann is a piece of human garbage #please stop supporting dhar mann #dhar mann is a cringe ass nae nae baby #tw fatphobia #tw ed mention #tw fat shaming #cw complicated relationships with food mention #tw abuse mention #tw homelessness #tw eviction #tw abuse #fatphobes dni #tw dhar mann

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suometar · 3 years ago

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youtube

Power song of the day: Wake up by Smash into Pieces

You can not resist, like a moth to a flame -- You know it will burn, but sometimes you enjoy the pain

This is your favorite game -- But you're gonna be defeated -- And you're never gonna beat it -- Controls you like a slave -- But you gotta stop pretending -- You won't get a happy ending

(Chorus) Someday you're gonna wake up -- Gonna wake up -- From a life in fantasy -- Someday you're gonna wake up -- Gonna wake up -- And realize it's not meant to be -- You stumble in the dark cause you close your eyes -- Guided by the sweet talk lullaby -- But someday you will wake up -- You will wake up From a life in fantasy -- Wake up!

You try to cut everyone out of your life -- So no one can question how you can believe the lies

This is your favorite game -- But you're gonna be defeated -- And you're never gonna beat it -- Controls you like a slave -- But you gotta stop pretending -- You won't get a happy ending

(Chorus)

You're in the fire, what do you do? -- You wake up -- The final round is waiting for you

(Chorus)

Why? Well...

I'm coming down from mania.

Which sucks. And here's a glimpse into my 30 or so years experience of this nonsense.

But before I say more I want to say to everyone who I have been venting during the last month or so:

Please don't think that you have contributed in making my situation worse. You haven't. The fuel for all of it comes from within myself. I am nothing but crateful that I have had a chance to vent to someone because otherwise it all would've just clumped inside me and that would've made the situation worse.

And besides, not all venting has been caused just by mania. When I'm manic it doesn't remove the normal thoughts and feelings I have.

When you're stuck in a tar pit created by a certain person for who knows how many years in a row it's obvious it's not just the mania. I think you guys know what that's like :D

Coming down is like a really really really REALLY bad hangover

Except that you can remember every single thing you've done, the things you've felt, the things you've planned, what you thought of. EVERYTHING.

And you KNOW they're all just a result of the chemical imbalance of your own brain.

Coming down doesn't mean necessarily that I'm now depressed. It's just getting back to your normal state from mania.

But the bad hangover is real. If you've experienced that you know what it's like. Regrets after regrets.

What's mania like

That ecstacy of mania is an immense rush you don't really know unless you've experienced it yourself.

It's difficult to describe, but I think falling in love really hard and fast is the closest that describes it best. You have butterflies in your stomach all the time, you're hyperfixating on that one person and you feel invincible, like everything in your life is finally perfect and you're in control like never before.

Or even better: It's like being on speed, except without the drugs. Overstimulated 24-7-365.

Hyperfixation is typical for mania

In my case the hyperfixation can be basically anything from men (real or fictional, doesn't really matter lol) to any action, hobby or even work, totally depends on the situation.

What I do is I dedicate all my time to that one thing and one thing only even though I know it's not healthy.

Thank god I've learned to control it so that it won't take ALL of my time anymore, but it still is there. And I need to cater it to some extent or I won't be able to do anything.

It's like having a parasite you can't get rid of but you can make it behave if you give it some attention from time to time.

What's real and what's not? That is the question

When you're having mania it's sometimes super hard to differentiate what's a real thought and what is based on the illusion created by your own mind. And even though I am nowadays capable to tell the difference of my real thoughts/feelings and the ones fueled by mania the later ones do have an effect on me even though I try not to react to them.

The tricky thing is that your body can't tell the difference of a so called real/normal thought/feeling and one created inside my head fueled by mania.

A manic person wants nothing more than get more of the dopamine that fuels the ecstacy. Which easily can lead to a psychotic episode/period.

The saddest part is that manic person usually looks and behaves exactly like any normal person. You can't tell from outside if someone is having mania unless they choose to show it. Psychotic then usually is clearly psychotic and erratic and behaves totally out of character.

Triggers for mania

Anything can basically be a trigger for mania and they vary from person to person. For me it's usually one of the following:

an extreme negative change in life (such as death, divorce or other big things like that),

finding a new crush,

intensive concentration on some activity,

social media, or

as surprising as it might be: music. Especially any with a faster tempo.

Usually though I have already been somewhat hypomanic before the real mania hits. Hypomania though is very hard to notice because I'm somewhat easily excited and impulsive already by nature.

But I've lived with this so long that I know when it's going overboard. My manic mind just usually chooses to say it's nothing and I believe it like a fool - because it feels so good.

This time the trigger for me was intensive concentrating on writing. While the writing was crucial in easing my general anxiety this time it had this unfortunate side effect.

Nonetheless, I'm not quitting writing. Because the anxiety has eased significantly from when I started. I probably need to change the subject for a while and not to write daily or limit it just for 30 mins a day.

How a new crush can happen when you're married, you ask?

Oh, easily. See, with a manic mind a marriage is nothing but an obstacle. Nothing is but an obstacle that is designed to limit you. Because you're omnipotent. And obstacles - well, they're made to be conquered or plowed through.

In my case I've chosen to keep my crushes online and physically as far away from me as possible. I've made a mistake of crushing into someone irl and that was UGLY for all parties involved.

Thirsting over someone from afar online while remaining happily married is by far a better option.

How to control mania or turn it off

Yes, you can turn it off. The problem with that is that usually manic person doesn't

feel like something is wrong, and

doesn't want to get down from the high.

But there are things you can do to get it end sooner.

Log off from all social media. Seriously. Don't just turn notifications off - LOG OFF.

If that's not enough, remove all the social media apps from your phone. You can always install them again.

Turn off your phone if it's possible.

Don't use computer unless it is absolutely necessary - like for paying bills. You don't need to find out what age Barbara Streissand is at 2:30am - or, well, ever.

Social media is by far the biggest contributor for mania. The apps are designed to give us a dopamine rush each time we scroll down any feed and see a new post. That's how they keep us stuck on them.

When you already have an issue with the dopamine rush using social media just makes it worse.

You won't miss anything if you log off for two days or a week. SERIOUSLY. But it will improve your well-being tremendously.

The absolutely best thing you can do is to create as dull environment to yourself as possible. That there's nothing artificial you can drown yourself into. Best place to be in mania is in the middle of the woods without any mobile signal - trust me.

Take up an activity where you do something with your hands. Hands-on approach is crucial.

Doing things with your hands will root you into the real world.

It doesn't matter what it is: cooking, cleaning, handcrafts, drawing or painting (NOT on a computer or ipad but with real pencils/crayons/paints/brushes/etc).

Remember not to do just that though. Go out (without your phone). Enjoy the nature. Listen to the sounds of the outside world. Don't close your senses with headphones. Read. Watch out of the window. Stare at the wall. Watch the paint dry.

LET YOURSELF GET BORED.

Just stay away from any electronic devices.

The hangover is horrible but it'll pass. And you will feel better afterwards when you're functional again.

------

It's not easy. None of us chose to live with bipolar. It's always inherited. But there are ways to work through it.

I hope this helps at least someone.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#bipolar disorder #bipolar #bipolar mania #coping skills #mental health tips #thoughts from the crypt #long post

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hoopdiddies · 6 years ago

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I'm Not Over You // Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 10)

A/N: I am so sorry that I have not been on for a full week. The phone I had used to edit this in broke and I had to buy a new one plus this is the last chapter and apparently the longest, regardless of my recent claims of the previous ones being the longest lmao. I hope this won't disappoint, I couldn't think of a more consistent flow due to the days I've been without my phone to type some ideas in. I hope you guys will enjoy this last part anyway, and thank you so much for supporting this entire series! I have a new series in mind but it's a WIP. Thanks again for all the love! IMPORTANT NOTE: I WILL BE CUTTING A PART IN THIS CHAPTER AND PUTTING IT UNDER A PART 10.1 IMMEDIATELY AFTER I POST THIS FOR THE SAKE OF THE LIMIT. TAGS WILL BE MENTIONED IN THE COMMENTS

Summary for this part: A wedding brought you apart and it will be a wedding that will bring you back together.

Warnings: A good balance of fluff and angst, mention of injuries and alcohol and some long ass writing.

WC: A whopping 10k

Parts: 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

You are painfully a feet away from the door and yet here you are, frozen after having turned 180 degrees only to stumble upon those eyes you had hoped to gaze into again. One swallow from you and you begin gliding along the tiled surface towards him, checking through every pad whether or not he's really awake.

After stopping at his side, you are now certain you're not anywhere close to dreaming. "Ben?" His name leaving your lips like an answered prayer. He's staring back at you with his left eye half-open – taking into account his current sensitivity to light– but with the same energy he exudes everytime you're together.

His chapped lips curl into a smile so slow yet so sweet at the same time; almost an upgrade to his classic 'Benny beam' which you had fun dubbing back in the days. "Y/N..."

And once again, you disrupt the orderly function of your tears and let them gush down, quickly but carefully wrapping your arms around him in bittersweet joy, exclaiming his name thrice into his hospital gown. "You...you bloody idiot! I thought you'd never wake up..."

Having just woken up from a coma, his voice comes out extra breathy and brittle but full of life, chuckling at how you're greeting him back into the conscious world. "Is that...is that how you welcome your best mate back?"

You shake your head ardently, sniffling against his chest and taking in the scent of mint. "Shut up. You frightened us!"

He really wakes up seconds before the clock strikes 'it's too late'. The convenience is hardly believable.

"I'm gonna call the doctor and tell him you're up." You act swiftly on your feet but a grip as strong as you least expected it to be hinders you from taking a step away and you turn around at Ben who's woven his fingers around yours. You give him a concerned yet quizzical look for it.

He sighs deeply, closing his logy eyes for a brief moment before opening them to you– gazing up at you meaningfully as he draws you close with the little, physical strength he has left. "You frightened me, rather."

"What... are you talking about?"

You won't admit it now but the way his fingers are currently snaked around yours could make your heart palpitate any second now.

His green eyes bore into yours effectively, suddenly invalidating your surroundings and making it seem like it's just you and him on the face of the entire planet.

He struggles to swallow before repeating. "You frightened me. You're still leaving..."

His voice crack as he said 'leaving' obliterates the fragments of what was once your soul, punching a gaping hole as a replacement. How is he able to remember your emotional outburst at the after party when he has just woken up and should at least forget a few details?

But then you realize you've been talking to him a lot as he was out of order.

You nod unfortunately, laying your hand on his which is still fondling your other one. His skin has warmed up a notch and that's a progress. You need to clarify this to him again since the last time you did, you both ended up in disarray and in the middle of the road.

"I...I've already told you everything."

"I don't wanna- I don't wanna lose you."

"Ben..." You cut off as your hopeless gazes meet like lightning, his irises darkening at the manner in which your eyes have transfixed on his.

"Please..."

Worried that his stable condition might shift due to the rising agitation he's showing, you sit beside him and bring his knuckles up to your lips, hearing the beeping of the heart monitor quicken which sounds incredibly alarming, an indication that his heart rate has elevated due to his induced stress.

You press your lips into his pale knuckles with your eyes thoroughly shut hoping to soothe him through it, tears trickling from your cheeks and onto the back of his hand as you choke on your words. "Ben...come on. You know I can't stay, you have to understand that."

He slowly shakes his head, biting his bottom lip as he grimaces at the bitterness, softly but agonizingly begging for you to reconsider. "You have to. Please, love. I need you to. I want you to."

Do the short term effects include stubbornness? Cause he's really determined to get you to stay no matter what. Joe must be tortured with waiting by now and at any given moment, he's bound to consider barging in.

You kind of hope he would. God, you should be out there notifying his attending physician about his regained consciousness and for goodness sake, Rosy ought to be here for this. She can't just wander out whenever she likes when her fiance's an injured man struggling to recover.

While keeping his trembling knuckles close to your lips, you move closer and question him, your voice downsizing to an unsteady whisper. "Why? Ben, I'm leaving primarily to pursue a career. Not just because of some heartbreak, this is a dream come true. I'm finally a stair close to reaching it. Why aren't you at least happy for me?"

"I am..."

"Then you have to let me go."

"It's not that easy..."

"Do you think it's any more easier for me? No! But this is what must be and you have to trust me on this," it's as if your heart is in your mouth from feeling so harrowed by all of this, but you have to make him see that this is the only way and that it is also important that you leave, "I'm sorry if I said some things that night that weren't exactly the way I felt. But I have to leave. You're getting married to Rosy soon, you know. Don't worry about me..."

He wishes he could just sit up with ease and cage you in his arms but all his incapacities at the moment are inhibiting him from doing so. Knowing he can't do anything about it emotionally deflates him.

He withdraws his hand a little and presses it to your flushed cheek, kneading your delicate skin as he shakes his head gently to prevent the dressing around his head from becoming less taut.

"I think I know well enough who I want to marry now..."

You can't distinguish what present beating has accelerated; the heart monitor's, your own heart, or at best both. But you're sure as hell his words weren't a product of your own imagination, your eyes drifting from one of his orbs to the other in a daze, looking for any sign that would prove that it's not you he's directed it at but it does otherwise.

"What are you saying?"

The skin of the front of his neck moves along as he swallows dryly to assure you the realness of his words, his thumb traveling up your face to wipe the moist corner of your eye. "I'm a bloody wanker for taking so long to see...that you're the one who has always kept me grounded, who has always made me feel more like myself. Even as far as making me feel like I don't need all this fame to lead a good life, " his breath shortens between each sentence and your jaw goes slack as he exploits the atmosphere to continue, eyes buried deep into yours as if the space in between doesn't even matter anymore.

"I'm an idiot...for not realising sooner that it's always been you."

"Ben-"

"I love you too, Y/N L/N, more than the way I used to. How could I ever be happy without you? We promised neither of us is going anywhere, right? "

Definitely not in the context of mere friendship. For a moment, you make it your quest to find your voice to react and you do.

"You can't. You can't- I mean, what about Rosy? Surely your feelings for her wouldn't just go away like that-"

"It's been doused for so long with the ones for you growing," he's thumb is now gingerly stroking circles on your cheek, the green in his eyes gleaming, "that dance at the after party put me in my place and I asked you if you were still coming to my wedding because...it was my way of telling you how I felt at that moment."

Despite the idea coming off a little incoherent, you immediately get the bottom line. It would've been like coming to your own wedding. You study his gaze confusingly before coming to believe that he actually does love you back in the way you always have.

The words have been built up from the moment he whipped out his share of the polaroid and reestablished his promise as the way he felt towards you took a dramatic turn.

Yet no matter how badly you want to stay and finally work some things out with him, he's engaged and you're leaving in 45 minutes.

And what of Rosy? Hopefully Ben wouldn't think of just fragmenting her like that.

Your deafening silence puts Ben under a heap of worry as he painfully anticipates for your reaction. You shake your head at the unlikelihood of your present situations, bringing your eyes shut as you respond in the only way you can without any words needed to express how sorry you are and how much you've waited for him to say it.

Against your better judgement, you lean your body towards him and catch him off guard with the most bittersweet, goodbye kiss anyone could ever exercise on a moment's notice.

You can tell his positive response with how rapid the heart monitor pulses are becoming and how his lips have begun moving passionately against yours.

His eyes flutter shut in return, tangling his fingers in your hair as he dares to deepen the kiss, eager to feel every inch of your lips as he knows that you still won't be staying after this.

Wait for me to come home...

You pull away catching your breaths as you rest your forehead on his, his hand stroking the back of your hair for the little time you have left in your hands.

This feels so wrong yet so right at the same time. Howbeit strong the desire to stay put, you break away before the spark between either of you becomes magnetizing enough to change your mind.

"Please tell me where you're going...please." He pleads yet you refuse to tell him where you're headed to avoid a fuss, shaking your head apologetically with the space between you both increasing.

"I'm so sorry." You whisper, retreating quickly to the door as you ignore his broken pleas and just in time to be welcomed by the doctor, Rosy and some nurses who are here to conduct another assessment. Your pulse picks up at the sight of an uneasy Rosy along with an extra glimpse of a tuft of red and a head of blonde hair overtopping from behind her, eager to check up on whatever is occurring.

Joe and Lucy.

You clear your throat as you utter quickly to the doctor, unable to set your gaze steady. "He's awake." Your update stirs them to hasten on their steps inwards and you don't bother to stop to give Rosy a glance as she brushes by you, with you feeling the slightest, if not an immense amount of guilt for kissing her fiance– your best friend, who now has to make a troubling choice in choosing between you and her. Most importantly, you wouldn't dare to contend with Rosy over this, you'd rather let it happen naturally and see where it would lead but that's the least of your priorities.

You've whizzed a meter past Joe and Lucy but freeze in your spot at Joe's frail call of your name, your shoulders relaxing after a brief pause. "Y/N...how did- how did it go?"

You remain static in your spot, just wanting to leave the building and basically see past everything.

"Let's just go."

Of course he and Lucy half expected your last conversation to be balanced on a scale of nonchalant to vehement but it went off the boundary of vehemence. With one more look at the closed door, the two catch up with you on your way out with a plan on revisiting Ben on their way back from the airport.

You lengthen the sleeve of your sweater and dab your eyes with it, striding towards the car and slipping into passenger's seat gracefully with the two trailing from behind. Once they climb in after you, they begin bombarding you with questions you'd expect them to drop but being so exhausted from all of drama just lessens your likelihood of elaborating your answers. With a few questions dismissed, you ask Joe to just step on it and he complies sadly.

Lucy gives you a sympathetic, lopsided smile and however stagnant your expression is at the moment, you return the favor as the car accelerates on the road ahead.

You bother to give the distancing hospital one last look; giving him one last look.

At the same time the doctors are asking Ben some questions and performing a few physical tests on him, you make it to the airport with some time to spare. Joe and Lucy accompany you into the waiting area agreeing to stick around just until your flight number is announced.

Propping your luggage bag against a vacant seat next to the ones Joe and Lucy are seated on, you dig through your pocket and pull your phone out to check if there are any calls you've slept on. So far nothing of the sort but a dozen texts from friends and acquaintances wishing you the best on your flight to Spain, though you still have to return to London to collect your essentials.

Their words coax a small smile on your lips and after pressing the button to your home screen, the wallpaper brings a small tear to your eye– you and Ben with your arms wrapped around each other beaming goofily at the shutter of the camera.

In this instance, you begin wondering why photos and pictures

have become such a recurring emblem in your friendship. Joe and Lucy notice the sadness spring out of your eyes and cloud your features as you gaze one last time at your phone, and they instantly figure out what you were looking at. Lucy gets up and turns you around softly by the shoulder, prompting you to talk it out to them prior to leaving. If it unloads the stresses you're under then you agree to it, telling them what went on inside the room not too long ago.

Upon mentioning the bit where Ben confessed to you and was insistent on not letting you leave, Joe breathes out a firm, "I knew it" and Lucy shakes her head incredulously at Ben's 'perfect' timing but overall they're both glad he's opened his eyes– in a metaphorical and physical sense– to the person who has always been worthy of that spot in his life. As your conversation comes to a close, the announcement of the boarding of your flight number limits your bittersweet goodbyes however you do promise that you'll call them as soon as you touchdown.

"You better do well out there! Don't forget to call us every once in a while. Or everyday, damn it!" Joe calls out after blowing multiple kisses to you, he and Lucy bidding you an effective farewell. You wave back at them with a reassuring grin before disappearing into the crowd of bustling passengers, huffing sadly underneath your breath as you trail your finger smoothly across your bottom lip– where Ben had left his precious, goodbye mark for you. Something you ought to hold on to dearly for the moments you'll be missing out on.

Many months later

During your first day in the University of Barcelona, you could've sworn it was all but a dream and at any given moment you could've awakened; but it wasn't. It was right before your eyes and you were standing upon the solid concrete that held those opportunities. In the first days you were but a foreigner; merely wandering around the campus with your textbooks in hand making your journey to the lab and cafeteria a noble quest. Like your life depended on finding your way through every twist and turn on a day to day basis, asking fellow students where particular rooms were as you struggled to maintain good eye contact.

It was an everyday uphill battle for everyone.

However things have improved immensely in the following months, you have gained new friends in most of your classes, developed a good sense of direction around the campus and you've scored solid 90's in your classes which you thought would be bumpy the first time but attainable anyway through nights spent with ounces of coffee, extensive reading and episodes of academic agony.

Despite the pressures in your first year, you still keep in touch with your friends and family back home, especially with Joe and Lucy to whom you had once swore to always call. They're glad to know you've been at your peak in the past few months plus they wouldn't stop making a fuss about how much they miss you and long to have some sort of reunion once you decide to go back for a break. They've been well too– Joe's planning on producing a new movie although he's not certain with the details yet, Gwilym has talked to you as well and he's thriving with new projects which you were quick to congratulate him on and Lucy - oh, darling Lucy- apparently Rami had taken her out of the country again and popped the question out of nowhere just two months after you left.

Of course, when she told you the news the hot brew you had nearly swallowed came spewing out of your mouth in surprise thereby catching the attention of the people you were with at that time. But that was out of happiness too, she's invited you to her wedding –a few months after breaking to you the news of her engagement– which is to take place two weeks from now, something you're unfortunately unsure of attending since you are steadfast on getting heaps of classwork done.

But you promised to update her if ever you found an opening on that week to squeeze in a flight.

"Aren't you coming with us? They're waiting downstairs and it's our only night off this week. " Ava, your roommate and closest friend among the others, asks as she slips on her cardigan, ready to leave for a night out. You've got a book propped up in front of you and you were just getting immersed in the lines you've taken your eyes off of. "Er, it's kind of a cold night out. You girls have fun anyway."

"You sure?"

You nod, flipping your pen in your fingers. "Just bring me home a smoothie while you're at it."

"Get your butt off the chair and do it yourself!" She whines as she throws a nearby ball of cotton at you and you giggle lightheartedly, wishing her and the girls good luck as she heads out, shutting the door behind her.

You're just relieved they can communicate fluently with you or you never would've gotten around the city easily. Just as you begin turning your attention back to your book, you suddenly lose the interest to continue and just close it for the night, picking your phone up and tossing yourself on the bed with a small jounce as you land.

You shift on your spot as you check through your messages, emails, some posts from friends and whatnot to pass the hour, eventually noticing a message from an unknown number sent just earlier today. Curiosity peaks in you and you don't think twice before clicking on it to read.

You've changed your number weeks prior anyway so it could be from someone you know whose phone number you haven't asked for yet.

Hey, Y/N.

I know this is out of the blue but it's been a while since I've heard from you and in all honesty I didn't even bother to contact you the first time out of the assumption that you might have busied yourself a lot and don't have the time to check your phone. But I've become so worried then that I had to decide to ask you how you're doing. How you're holding up wherever you are. If you're not overworking yourself since you tend to do that a lot. I know it's been months since we've last talked to each other but I just miss you. I miss seeing you, having those late night conversations that got you late in the morning for work, hanging out and your voice. I kind of want to call you but you might be occupied and I don't wanna be a bit of a bother.

I miss you so much, love. Every single day. I'm trying to distract myself with the new project I've taken but you're just impossible to sleep on. When will you ever be back?

Why does the tone of the message seem familiar?

You reread along the last lines and your heart comes to a stop at one word that gives away the possible identity of the sender.

The lingering silence in the room making it possible for you to hear the elevated throbbing of your heart. It's been a while since he's slipped into your mind and even until now, the love you have for him is still flourishing wholly. Even when you had your mind set on your studies, your heart unknowingly had some other priorities.

So has he called things off with Rosy because if he hasn't yet, the tone of the message wouldn't come off as sincere as this.

That's a question you don't need answered for the meantime however you wonder how he was able to text you when you've pretty much changed your number.

You hope he's fully recovered from that head trauma though it's been nearly a year since that happened. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, thinking about replying.

Hey. Ben if this is you, it's great to hear from you again.

Your eyes dart to the send button, taking a brief pause before hitting it and discarding your phone to the side at least hoping he wouldn't respond immediately because then it would lead to a conversation that might just turn awkward.

Never have you had an awkward talk with him so it's something you wouldn't want to acquaint yourself with.

You grab your pillow and press your cheek against it in uncertainty.

"Don't even start...thinking about him." You mumble groggily into the pillow and lay flat on your back as you begin wallowing in your own doubt, your eyes becoming droopy at every second spent on staring at the pale ceiling with your right arm and leg thrown over the pillow like you're never gonna let it go.

You never even considered seeing someone else because deep down, you still hoped for him. Though you had exchanged some stares and 'interactive' words with a few guys in your classes, none of them ever came or would ever come close to Ben.

- - - - - - -

This week's lab work gave your brain a mild whiplash with all the hustling you were required to do.

Every morning, you either had breakfast or not and it all depended on how early you had to be there. Provided that you had to take off in the early hours, you had to skip a good bite nearly every morning; plus you were all being assessed closely by your professor and so a downshifted movement was every bit as unacceptable.

At least now that you had just gotten off from your last period you can reward yourself with some good Mediterannean food that should be the ultimate dinner of your night.

You and Ava are seated around a table laughing and enjoying each other's companies with your plates and glasses half-filled with leftovers after a quick chow down, but your attention is quickly divided as a text from Lucy surfaces. She's asked you about your availability next week and you ought to re-check your schedule for it. Once again upon pressing your home screen button you can't help but let a longing smile take form on your lips at your wallpaper and with you being oblivious to Ava noticing, to your demise, she takes a sly peek at what you're looking at and disrupt your train of thought.

"Who's that?" Ava asks with a cheeky grin to which you quickly recoil with your phone held loosely in your hand.

"Nothi- no-one. "

As nosy as she is tenacious, she swiftly

snatches your phone from your weak grip and dares to unlock it, the wallpaper of you and Ben making her swoon in delight. "Y/N, how on Earth did you get Ben Hardy to hold you for a photo like this?" Squealing like a schoolgirl, Ava grills you with an inquisitive look. You've never bothered to tell her or any of your new found friends anything about your friendship with him and so now she thinks you're a fan who merely got luck in her favour for a picture.

If only she knew.

"I don't know? How'd you know it's him?" You speak up your mind, a fleeting blush crawling its way to your face.

" Bohemian Rhapsody was a hit, of course. Queen rocks and I was all for it," she gesticulates as a matter of fact and winks playfully, "and later on we were all for the cutie who played Roger Taylor."

You try your very best not to let a single squeak of laughter escape your lips as she begins drooling over him. What are the chances of her finding out, right? You would tell her about it and have her meet him however your situation is too dire to act in. Come to think of it, you haven't received a reply to your reply to his message. He could be juggling a lot in his hands at the moment, perhaps.

"Cutie. Yeah, he's cute. But the guy seems clumsy enough to drop your heart." Here you are throwing a sportive shade all the way from Barcelona.

As if she's taken a fake offense at your comment, Ava overdoes a gasp. "Is that how you say thanks?"

You respond with a one-shoulder shrug, your voice neutral to keep yourself from giving away the screams of your heart. "I'm just saying. What are we doing next week by the way?"

"As I've been told by Mr. Gomez, the school will be hosting an array of meetings with the BOD and so we're given a time off."

You blink thrice at her. "Seriously? Like a week?"

She forks a tapa from her plate and bites down on it, nodding at you. "Three days max." So you don't have the entire week off, but that's great. Given that you had told Lucy you'd update her about your availability during that time and now that you have a few days to spare, you're conditioned to go. You quickly get up from your chair and excuse yourself from Ava, making your way to the terrace to dial Lucy who you hope is reachable at the meantime.

"Hello?"

"Lucy, hey!"

"Y/N, thank goodness you called!"

"About my weekly update?" You bite down on your lip in excitement, swinging your leg back and forth aimlessly.

"What about it?"

"I'm free next week."

- - - - - - -

"And cut! Okay everyone, lunch break. We're not cleaning up the rubble yet so we'll leave it there for the next scene." At the sound of the clapperboard slamming, all stunts have been ceased until the next roll and the main actors retreat individually to their own trailers, one of which is Ben who is walking back within beads of sweat dripping from his forehead as a result of a car stunt he had to perform on set. He's glad he can finally swing his left arm with unbridled ease after disposing of the sling just two months back although he's left with a few scars; the primary one on his forehead from the trauma he had.

A PA hands him a bottle of water and he thanks her for the save, cracking the lid off and chugging away. He waves at his fellow co-stars before entering his trailer and slipping out of his sweaty shirt, dumping it on the edge of the bed.

He places the bottle on a coffee table and swipes his phone from his drawer, being welcomed by a heap ton of messages, one days older than the next. He scratches his head at the result of his constant business; not being able to find time to reply thereby impregnating his inbox with miscellaneous messages.

Three from Lucy which he is 'obligated' to check first and foremost. Ben's lips twitch to an uneven smirk as he reads her messages, amused that he's been invited to her wedding, along with other people.

He replies with a simple yet sincere, "Thanks, I'll mark it on my calendar" before proceeding to put his phone down on the bed. He sighs, taking out his wallet from his drawer and opening it to pick out something, the dual polaroid he's folded in catching his eye and all of his attention; and for a moment, his heart stops.

He pulls it out from its slot and unfolds it, the tape used to stick it together crinkled but still an effective adhesive. Without taking his eyes off of the polaroids, he plops down on the edge of the bed and wipes his forehead, hiding the ridiculous smile he now has on his face behind his hand. The memory still does things to him apparently and he has never let go since the day you kissed him goodbye. He can still feel the touch of your lips linger on his and admittedly, he traces his finger across the spot every time you cross his mind. The things you had said to him while he was unconscious ultimately stuck in his mind and he just longs to hear your voice once more. There are multiple times he forgets that you're not around to vent to or watch a good game of rugby with or do whatever you used to do together, no matter the trouble.

Generally speaking, he just yearns to be with you.

On a side note, he had long called things off with Rosy, exactly a day after he had awakened. Of course, she didn't take it easy but he knew damn well who he loved.

A heavy sigh leaves Ben's lips as he lowers his head at the frustration he feels for never owning up to his feelings.

She probably has some other guy in her life now. What are my chances? He thinks dryly to himself. "Hey, Ben? Break is over." The assistant director knocks on his trailer door and he tells him that he'll be out in a few. Tucking the polaroids back into his wallet, he snags the fresh shirt that's been laid out on the sofa across him and pulls it on, combing his blond hair back with his fingers before heading out to get the day done without realizing that he has skipped your reply.

With the days leading up to Rami and Lucy's wedding, they have never been more busier about any other event in their entire lives. They've decided on a beach wedding and to hold the reception there as well. Lucy has made you one of her bridesmaids yet you declined at first because that would mean you would have to fly in early for a practice down the aisle but she's assured you that practice wouldn't be necessary. She has taken care of the dresses and such and all you need to do is just fly down to California, again, to attend. Speaking of dresses, you bought her a little wedding gift yourself. It's something small but it's bound to suit her look.

You've told Ava about the wedding– excluding essential details like whose wedding it is specifically– and she's a little disheartened that you wouldn't be around to hang out with for the week but you've reassured her that you won't be long; considering you'll also be reviewing for upcoming tests.

"Okay, so it's a beach wedding? Drastic times call for some drastic measures, chica!" She exclaims and throw her arms up in the air, springing out of her bed and rummaging through her wardrobe as you throw what you can into one, just one luggage bag.

She pulls out a black two-piece bikini from the drawers and upon beholding it, you feel your eyes burn to a crisp. "There won't be any swimming, as far as I'm concerned."

"You'll never know. Just toss this in, it might come in handy." You swear you saw a mischievous glint in her eye as she said that. You press your lips into a tentative, hard line before surrendering, grabbing the pair from her and stuffing it in the unreachable depths of your luggage.

"Happy?" She nods vigorously and you sigh in defeat, zipping your bag close.

The day came and the jet lag is still real. You've flown in a day prior, exactly the day of Lucy's bridal shower and well, a literal bone crushing hug welcomed you on your way into the arrival area. She looked really fresh and bloomy before you arrived but afterwards, it was a messy head of hair and a waste of makeup, not to give it a stretch but it was. She's shed a few tears from how long you've been gone and you couldn't help but shed a few yourself, awfully missing her and the rest.

She's prepped a hotel for all her bridesmaids to stay in and you had some thoughts on how much she's spent but it's her wedding so who are you to question? As she helps you settle in your room, she pauses and brings you in for another big hug.

"Aww, Luce." You chuckle over her shoulder, rubbing her back.

She snaps her eyes shut and hums. "Oh Y/N, I've missed you. We all have. I know we call a lot even from a distance but it's been so long since we've last seen each other."

You sigh heavily, still holding her close.

"LAX. Yeah. It's only been a year but it feels like forever," you pull away deliberately, hands still firm on her shoulders with a heartfelt gaze, "Congratulations, Luce. You and Rami better make wonderful babies."

She smacks your arm lightly as an appropriate response to your little tease. "Shut it. Tell me everything."

"Everything?"

"Yeah," she planks down on the edge of the duvet and crosses her legs, leaning her body forward, "how's Spain? How's the school? The agony? Been seeing someone?" The last bit catches you by surprise; as if she's emphasized the question enough for it to be the main thing you have to answer. You disregard it for a few seconds until she brings it up again. You turn to give her an incredulous brow lift, something she returns with a curious grin. "Are you seeing anyone?"

In your mind, she should know that you've only ever had one guy in your heart but knowing Lucy, she just wants to hear you say it yourself .

You huff underneath your breath, planting your hands on your hips as you perpend on saying the following. "Spain is amazing. School is both heaven and hell. The agony exists in every divot, and no, I'm not seeing anyone."

"That's good."

You glance sideways awkwardly. "Okay? Is what good?"

"Everything, except the agony part, especially the last."

"I'm not seeing anyone?" You repeat and she nods with a blossoming smile. You don't say anything else since it's obvious that she's keen on letting you talk about Ben but today's not the day that you do. It's the day before her wedding and every present air particle should be all about her.

"Regardless, Miss Boynton. This week is all about you so," you alter your stance and skip to your luggage bag, unzipping one compartment and pulling out your wedding gift for her, "it's not much but I figured this looks better if it's on you." You hand her the palm-sized object and she lets out a little gasp at what you got her. It's a hair comb adorned with two, white roses and pale rhinestones that glimmer under the spilling light.

Something that would upgrade her sun-kissed beauty on a clear day. You try it on her and step back to picture her with the full ensemble as she walks down the sandy aisle tomorrow. "Good lord, look at you all grown up." You pretend to tear up and she tilts her head back in a burst of laughter, walking to you with welcoming arms and green eyes that are nearly brimming with tears.

"Oh I love it, Y/N! I knew something was missing in the outfit but you've completed it. It's perfect." She mumbles happily against your shoulder and her contentment tickles your insides.

"I'm glad you like it."

After giving you a look of what you'll be wearing tomorrow and a few, friendly introductions to the rest of the bridesmaids, the bridal shower is where everything is at. Ranging from colorful streamers to champagne to cake strippers, the latter putting you under uneasy situations when you just wished to enjoy your drink and your own space. At the same hour you're enjoying yourselves, on the other side of town is where Rami and the boys are on full swing with his bachelor's party. It has the same vibe, only without the strippers and streamers and constant belly-aching movement.

You just pray none of you will be waking up with hangovers at the hour you'll be fixing yourselves.

And indeed none of you have.

You've all waken up like ladies but clumsily as the realization of the time nudges you out of your beds. Ceremony starts at 9 and you're 5 hours early to ensure that everything progresses smoothly.

It's a condensed hustle within your separate rooms; the pattern of getting ready ever so similar. Shower, makeup, hair, dress, and retouch; all done in complete unison. With all the bridesmaids, including yourself, conditioned outfit-wise, you all gather in Lucy's room to assist in psyching her up for the big day. Her mom's in too to witness every precious second of seeing her daughter fly off on her own.

She's still in her robe but her hair and makeup have been beautifully done by one of her makeup artist friends. She's about to step into her gown, a sight the girls are just dying to see.

"Alright, Lucy. Let me just zip up the back." Says one of the girls who has helped with her makeup as Lucy stands confidently but nervously in front of the mirror, scanning her reflection. You fold your hands together in anticipation, gasping as she turns around slowly with the skirt of the gown gracefully following her turning motion. Her radiance could put the sun's to complete shame.

"Well, say something, girls." She prompts with a chuckle and as expected, it is followed by the uproarious squeal of everyone in the room including yourself. Rami is guaranteed to have his gaze super-glued to Lucy the moment she reveals herself. After having a dozen compliments shower her, you and the rest of the girls retreat outside to give her and her mother a time to talk. As you lean against the door frame, you fish out your phone from your purse and check your messages; coming across your reply to Ben which hasn't received another one from him yet.

You wipe off the downhearted smirk on your expression as the girls' murmurs increase as Lucy steps out holding a bouquet of flowers with her mom on her arm and the edge of her gown lifted by two assistants. She turns her head to find you and crooks her finger at you upon seeing you inclined against the frame, letting you walk by her side.

You notice she's sporting the gift you've given her and the sentimentality makes you want to tear up but in doing so would ruin your makeup and so you decide to save it for the kiss.

You lean in close to her and whisper in a flat but playful tone, your words making her giggle. "Rami's totally getting it."

"I'm not the only one who's getting it today." She winks at you and leaves you questioning what she meant. She made it sound like it's something you have to find out for yourself later on. The weather is fine and not as humid as you thought; the ideal atmosphere to marry under. The bridesmaids are to ride in a separate vehicle that will follow up behind the one Lucy and her mom will be taking. To say that your ride with the the girls to the resort turned out fun and noisy is an understatement; you couldn't be any more conscious about smudging your makeup as you busted your guts laughing at your topics. The driver had given you weirded out looks but you know he was just trying to feign a laugh. By the time you arrive at the resort, a gust of wind from the seaside welcomes you out and nearly messes up your hair though you've put it up in an elegant bun with your tendrils hanging loosely from the sides of your head. You traverse closely behind the rest of the girls and find the venue nearly packed with attendees in their most sophisticated dresses and suits. The altar is set meters away from the shoreline and a red carpet has been rolled out to serve as the aisle between lines of pillars decorated with tropical flowers. A gentle music piece is being played by a violinist and a cellist situated on the left side of the altar with waiters serving some four-seasoned refreshments for the guests to enjoy as they wait.

With all these people around, you can't help but wonder if either Joe or Gwilym made it. You haven't contacted Joe about arriving, given that you wanted to surprise him with your arrival. You peer down at your wristwatch and it's only an hour before the ceremony starts. Rami's nowhere to be seen and you badly want to congratulate him on this, but either way, he's probably attending to some other people and so you put that chance on hold.

As you had wished for yourself to be void of any mishaps today, you bumping into a tall figure as you turn around to walk away deters that possibility and mortifies you for a moment.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry-" You quickly apologize but cease as a familiar face meets your lifting gaze.

"What- Y/N?!"

"J-Joe?!"

"Y/N!"

"Joe!" After shamelessly screaming each other's names, you put no thought into the action of jumping into his arms for a tight hug. He's crushing you in one anyway. "Oh my g- what- when did you arrive, you little sneak? " He exclaims and lets you go for a split second, careful not to ruin your satin outfit. "You're going to murder me for this but yesterday."

His brows furrow in disbelief as his mouth hangs agape. "How dare you not tell me? I mean, I knew Lucy would invite you but...actually how dare you both for not telling me." He whines in a joking manner and you respond with a quick shrug. "Surprise, surprise."

"You sure did and wow," his eyes travel up and down your outfit and you click your tongue at him as he does, pointing your finger to your eyes that are aimlessly roving around his suit in the same manner. "Hey Mazzello, eyes here."

"Hypocrite, eyes here." He mimics your action mockingly and you take eye-rolling to the next level.

"Damn it Joe, I've missed you."

"Missed you too. Been a year but it feels like a decade and you look beautiful, by the way, in that outfit as a bridesmaid." He places his hand on your upper back and leads you into the lounging area that is close to the pool but not far from the event area.

"You don't look so bad yourself for a groomsman. "

"How'd you guess?"

"This is Rami's wedding. I'd know."

You got an hour to talk before you take your positions anyway so catching up would be vital. You settle down on the sofa and fit your talk into the time limit, telling each other about what went on in your lives for the past few months. A lot of interesting stuff has happened to Joe and he's absolutely lively as he talks about it however yours hasn't been much, just adaptation to a new environment and the academic agony. Your talk takes an interesting turn as Joe asks you a question related to something you haven't thought about for a few days.

"Since you're pretty much still on the market, you ever think about...you know."

Your brows crease at him. "What?"

"You know," he lifts his shoulder in a half shrug, "Ben."

"Oh." Is the only thing you can say. The answer is pretty clear, you do think about him but not on a daily basis. He comes across your mind when you've drifted off into oblivion with your thoughts or when something that may remind you of him catches your eye.

"Sometimes I guess. But not as deep as I used to."

"I know you miss him, Y/N, and he misses you too. Believe me, he tells me everytime he calls."

You cast him a short gaze but look back at your fingers, a little comforted by the thought and it motivates you to ask. "Is he still with Rosy?"

Joe scoffs, mildly amused and wholly relieved at the contrary. "That's the good news. He's broken things off with her long ago. Just a day after he regained consciousness."

"Really?" You won't admit it but part of you feels bad for her.

"Yeah and I'm not spoiling you the rest," he rises from his spot on the sofa and reaches out for your hand, pulling you up gracefully. "The thing's about to start." He gestures to the chairs that are beginning to get occupied by the people as the priest arrives. You walk back out alongside him, leaning in to ask out of curiosity. "What do you mean you won't spoil me the rest?"

"You'll see, now go skedaddle to Lucy. She needs her crew." He pats your shoulder with a crooked smile on and you sigh inwardly, waving at him as you divert paths; with you headed to where the rest of the bridesmaids and the bride herself are gathered.

"Gwilym! You're just on time." Spotting Gwilym making his way to join Sami – Rami's brother– at the front row of chairs on the right wing as one of the groomsmen, Joe greets him with a brief hug and takes his place next to him. Sami greets the two men as well, exchanging some remarks before being joined by Ben who had been caught in traffic on his way. "Benny!"

"Ben!"

"Hey, you guys! Am I late? Did I miss the vows?" He asks with a hint of irony as he takes the spot between Gwil and Joe, shaking hands with Sami at the same time. Not a minute longer they are joined by the remaining groomsmen and Rami who has finally garnered up the physical strength to stand on the altar without breaking a sweat.

"You got this, mate. Just don't look down. Your boutonniere looks nice if I might add." Gwilym simultaneously advises and compliments an already nervous Rami hoping to appease him yet earns a quick yet teasing smack from Joe for making a small joke out of the situation. To show them that he's actually better on every possible level, Rami stands tall and rests his hands on his front to exude that confidence and excitement of being minutes away from watching his soon-to-be Mrs. Malek grace the aisle with her presence.

The guests simmer down with their chatters as the first ones who will be walking down the aisle take their positions. The musicians stop playing as they wait for the cue to initiate the main piece in accordance with the first walk.

Among the ones that will be walking before Lucy's big entrance is you and though you'll be joined by your fellow bridesmaids, it somehow just quakes your nerves, tightening your grip around the small bouquet of flowers you've been given as a prop.

You can't understand why you're feeling nervous; you're not the one that's getting married but you just don't know why. The musicians are given the cue and they begin playing a familiar song, something contemporary but heart-achingly romantic.

"You okay?" Asks a fellow bridesmaid and you nod, telling her that you're a bit anxious. She reassures you with a smile and it unknots your tension. The guests and attendees turn their heads towards the threshold of the aisle and the sponsors begin walking down first. Next are some of their relatives, then you– the bridesmaids. There are at least seven of you and you come in fifth. As you begin sauntering down the aisle, you feel relaxed yet piercing eyes trail your movement yet you beg to differ and keep your head up with a mellow smile on your face as you keep your eyes ahead, your unsteady gaze fleeting from the altar and to the groomsmen seated at the front row of the right wing.

Your eyes land on Joe and Gwilym who start giving you bright beams as they notice you in an instant. If you weren't trying to walk sophisticatedly with all these people staring, you would let out the loudest, most awkward giggle. It's nice to see Gwilym again though. Just as you begin turning your unwavering attention away, you take a subtle double take at a certain pair of eyes that has found you long before you found them. You are meters away from reaching your end of the aisle and yet it seems as if you've only started walking with how the music has turned up and how you're exchanging astonished yet longing gapes with Ben who knows he is seconds away from exploding with who he's finally seeing. You're here as a bridesmaid for Lucy and yet ridiculously, you feel like the bride.

Of course he's here. Of course he's one of the groomsmen. Of course Lucy and Joe wouldn't tell you. Of course this is the thing Joe didn't want to spoil about. Why didn't you think about any of this earlier? It would've saved you the shock regardless of it being so obvious.

You gather the strength to break away from the trance you've put yourself in and stand next to the girls, using up all the willpower in your body to avoid risking a peek at the groomsmen– at one groomsman rather. It's the same struggle for Ben who is every bit as stubborn as the next person and does the contrary, going as far as tilting his head to one side just to cop a longer view of you, an action Joe notices and slaps his hand for. Ben winces a bit and gives Joe a questioning look for two reasons.

"Save it." Joe whispers flatly and yet Ben dismisses it and feels his breath hitch in his throat as the sight of you appeases his worries yet makes his heart run a mile. With the ring bearers and flower girls at the edge of their walk, everyone rises up at the reveal of Lucy. The music slows down to fit the pace of her walk with her mother by her side, her eyes finding Rami's and establishing a home in them. You glance at both of them and feel your heart inflate at how strong their love for each other is, something that usually only exists in novels and fiction. Lucy's eyes well with joyful tears as she reaches the altar and her mother finally surrenders her hand to Rami.

It's too much.

With you being too distracted by the spark between Rami and Lucy, you overlook Ben's unbreakable gaze at you. The moment you grew a smile, it invalidated everything else surrounding him.

The priest requests everyone to finally sit down and witness the lifetime commitment blossom. Throughout the ceremony, you can't help but feel his eyes sear through you yet you stand your ground and fix your gaze at the happenings on the altar, briefly failing every once in a while by finding yourself looking back at him. The moment has come for them to exchange their vows and you listen intently at every word sincerely uttered by the two. There are parts in their vows that make the people giggle and tear up at the emotion put into every word expressed. It seems surreal to you that the moment Rami tells Lucy that he's never going anywhere, your gaze meets Ben's and it becomes undeniably bewitching, Rami's words acting as a call back to your promises. As the rings are exchanged and the "I do's" are said, the priest pronounces them husband and wife and you tear your focus away from Ben just in time for Rami and Lucy to share their first kiss as a married couple. Cheers and applauds fill the air and even more tears of joy are shed at the start of their lifetime bond. They both couldn't look any more blissful, with the pair of them giddily flaunting their rings with grins so radiant and bright it undermines the power of the sun upon them.

The cheers and excitement continue at the reception which, of course, is hosted at the very same place. After the ceremony– you, the girls and Lucy took off to the rooms you've booked in the resort for the meantime to change into the appropriate apparel to match the vibe of the venue and even the venue itself. Rami and the boys drove back to their respective hotels to change as well and it was a bit hard for the newly weds to go their separate ways for a few hours just to change clothes. Now that you've all rejoined for the reception, lively doesn't even begin to cut it. It's just like any other wedding reception and like any other wedding reception, it's upbeat, smooth and a little haywire on the egdes. After going through with dinner and a couple of toasts and remarks about the funny side of Rami and Lucy's relationship, the dance floor is open for business. At first glance, the girls take you for someone who is in need of a lot acquainting with the dance floor and they're right; because of that they haul you in themselves and you end up enjoying moving around to the music. You decide to refreshen yourself with a glass of iced tea before returning to your fun. One gulp is all takes to replenish the energy lost and you turn around to head back but freeze in your spot at the sight of Joe with his hand out, asking you for a dance.

"Seriously?" You're not surprised but your brows shoot up in question.

"It's my way of saying 'I need to talk to you'. "

"We can do that outside." You gesture to the vacant space yet Joe insists that he dances with you as you talk. You purse your lips together, letting him take your hand and he pulls you along with him almost too abruptly, eliciting a ticklish squeal from you.

"Don't do that!" You whine as you both settle among the multitude of dancing people. He lowers his head in laughter and twirls you under his arm, drawing you close afterwards. You rest one hand on his shoulder as he holds up the other. "Where's the fun in talking outside now, huh?"

"Alright," you grin ridiculously, spotting Rami and Lucy in each other's arms as they slow dance near the mini stage, looking and feeling at one with the other. "Hey, doesn't it just warm you?" You poke Joe and gesture to the newlyweds. He peers over at them and hums in a heartwarming way. "Yeah. Man, it's like they're communicating with each other merely through their close-knit heartbeats."

"Speaking of communication," you clear your throat and give him a direct look, " what did you want to talk about?"

He snaps out from gauging at the two and leads you on a gentle sway as he swallows, increasing the volume of his voice just loud enough to cut through the music and for you to hear. "Right. About the thing during the ceremony," you immediately catch on to what he's trying to say and interrupt his next words.

"Okay, thanks for implying, but are you kidding me? Giving me stroke by hiding Ben's attendance?"

"It was for dramatic effect," your eyes flatten puzzlingly at his defense. "What was so dramatic in that besides the awkward... staring?" You know the truth and it really wasn't awkward; in fact it felt like time dilated between you both.

Joe ping-pongs his gaze from one end of the place to the other and back to you. "You paused after 'awkward'. You liked it." The smile on his face teasing you. He's really that sensitive to the nuance of your voice, making it easier for him to figure out how you actually feel about anything.

You evade his prying look and clear your throat, trying to keep up with the transition of the rhythmic music to a slow tune. "So what if I did?" You mumble intentionally.

"Nothing bad. Just Ben wouldn't stop fidgeting in his spot after seeing you. He was this," he makes small jerky movements with his upper body as to imitate Ben's inability to keep still during the ceremony, "antsy and I was this close to losing it."

You snort as you let an explosive laugh overcome you, recollecting yourself shortly as you are flattered by Joe's report. "I felt the same. It took every cell in my body to prevent myself from launching at him honestly."

"I'm glad we sat in separate tables or else neither of you would function like regular...human beings." The grin on Joe's face fades in the same manner as his last words, staring off at a figure approaching from behind you. He regains his voice in a matter of seconds, only with a sly twinkle in his eyes this time.

"You okay?" You ask him, slowly removing your hand from his chest and he nods vigorously, taking position to whirl you off but with a sneaky twist.

"I'm fine. Just... Gwilym wants to dance with you and he's right behind you so I'm going to spin you off to him, sound good?" He lifts your arm up and you shrug in agreement, going with what Joe's planning to do.

"Ally oop!" He twirls you around and releases your hand just in time for you to cling onto a firm frame, giggling at the rush you felt. "Hey Gwil! Good catch, that was a strong spin-" You take a hard pause the second you lift your eyes up with the expectation of meeting Gwilym's sapphire blues, greeting a pair of forest, green orbs instead and it becomes more than what you've bargained for. His veiny arms have caught you with ease and you're sinking, both literally and metaphorically, your arms awkwardly thrown over his shoulders for support.

He helps you regain your balance and smiles the smile you had craved to behold again, breathing out your name like he hasn't said it in a long time. "Y/N, hi."

You find your voice just in time to reply. "Ben...h-hi." He's looking quite good in an all white attire. His white dress shirt is tucked in and has three buttons undone, exposing a lot of his clavicle and a preview of his pecs and the way his white pants just hangs loosely around his legs– you've lost the proper words to describe the sight.

Joe, you crafty asshole.

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