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#And instead of feeling those sobering thoughts he just reverts to this
bloodofthefates · 8 months
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Nesta & Alcohol
Nesta’s relationship with alcohol has a direct correlation with her self-hatred and drive to be self-destructive in a very self-fulfilling prophecy kind of way. I think the way she pushes people away with all of her defense walls and sharp tongue is just the tip of the iceberg, exacerbated by the vice of drinking to the extent we saw in ACOSF. If she drinks more, the more likely she is to act out and become the person everyone assumes she is, the more terrible she is the more they hate her as she tells herself they do and validates her own self-hatred for herself. I think both drinking/partying and hooking up with random males was equal parts a way to numb and anesthetize feelings in a form of trauma response, unable to either discern or confront her feelings especially the guilt and grief over her father’s murder but compounded first by the loss of her bodily autonomy and trauma IN the cauldron and her experiences of living through a war while her human world had been turned entirely upside down turned fae against her will. It was easily made a weapon against others as much as it was herself, pushing away Elain, Feyre, Cassian, Amren and everyone when we saw her sabotage relationships with through ACOFAS and a lot of ACOSF. I think her ultimate goal was to hurt herself as much as it was to wound others, because at least the pain of feeling was better than the nothingness of apathy that I think correlates heavily to the void of the Cauldron that called to her; a void she fears to get lost in especially when it’s been made known that is also now always a part of her. I think Nesta more than anyone fears the depths of her feelings as we see when Feyre tells Cassian about how guarded she is because of how much she feels so instead she tries to shut everything down.
I think along Nesta’s self-healing journey through ACOSF, she strives to become stronger and thus leads to overall healthier choices in lifestyle as well as addressing mental, emotional and physical needs. I think Cassian is truly such a strong positive influence in this arena and why he was really the best mentor/trainer for her because of his patient approach, ability to listen and meet her halfway in earnest understanding and always without judgment when Nesta’s entire life has been lived in fear of judgment/approval of others. Even if she pretends and professes she doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her, she most certainly centers her self-worth around what her mother, grandmother and sisters all thought of her. Nesta is always seeking validation while simultaneously convincing herself she isn’t good enough or deserving of it.
SO. In a long babbly way, I think becoming a Valkyrie and finding her sense of purpose as well as her own sense of belonging to both a community and family unit between her sisters-in-arms as well as rebuilding the relationships within the IC of the Night Court, I headcanon that Nesta leads a sober lifestyle entirely by choice. I think the temptation to revert to self-harm behaviors is still always present particularly in her lowest moments, but I think she tries to remove herself from potential situations and probably has a lot of substitution behaviors such as sparring & training for when she feels like she’s close to giving in to her former vices. I think after some time she’s obviously okay to be around others consuming alcohol, but I see her only sipping from alternative options or on the rare occasion partaking in a wine/champagne drink when duty and ceremony call for it but otherwise she’s not likely to partake nor feels the need to explain her reasoning to those who don’t need to know.
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formulaonedirection · 3 years
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Sober, Melodrama (2017)
Top 5 Lorde songs I associate with Daniel: 3/5
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dirtycccat · 4 years
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the demon bros + (un)dateables  drunk
tw for drinking so if you’re not into that yeah be warned. also there’s some mentions of horniness because uhhh,,,ya know
 Lucifer
normal soft drunk
it’s neither too easy nor too hard to get him drunk
also his drink of choice is probably wine really really expensive wine
he has a pretty high tolerance but not as high as his party animal bros
since it looks like he drinks pretty often if you look at all the alcohol in his  mancave  study
it’s canon he’s a soft drunk??? which,,,, cute
but also chaotic af
i feel like he just reverts to angel lucifer? the really cute innocent baby that’s also very, very chaotic (think of lesson 37+ luci which i only saw screenshots of but still)
expect him to do a 180: if he’s a stern emotionally constipated dad sober drunk luci is basically him with 0 filters but a lot of emotion
he’ll make weird dad jokes, tell people he cares about them, ask dumb dumb questions that he thinks about daily but never voices
“ok mc but what is lol actually and why does levi say that all the time. wait why are you laughing… lots of love? ok then I send you lol”
prefers to drink with close friends and family only because he knows how he gets when drunk
will not admit it but he enjoys being able to feel so?? free and say whatever he wants since he feels like he can’t normally
Mammon
heavy weight hyper puppy
he has a pretty high alcohol tolerance probably since he’s into partying
also he knows his limits because of past experiences
but sometimes limits are made to be broken
and once they’re broken oh boy
drunk mammon is just him but hyper
or more like even more hyper
i feel like he’d become as excited as a golden retriever on redbull in the first 4 hours
dancing with everyone, making crack jokes, getting into weird situations
and then if he drinks a liiitle bit too much
he’d just break down
and cry
and be an emotional mess
which ends up in him crying over your/ his bros’ shoulder telling everyone he loves them
and then end up falling asleep
so you have to take turns carrying him to bed and make sure he’s safely tucked in with a glass of water close by
you don’t mind though since usually he makes sure you get home safe when you go drinking 
Leviathan
heavy weight emotional drunk 100%
another boy that sleeps near a bottle of alcohol so he probably drinks regularly
if you’re in your room all day it’s pretty easy to just do it since you’re safe so he does it whenever he feels like it
this jealous boy can fake being chill while sober but once you get him drunk expect tears, angry rants, yelling, semi-public mental breakdowns
you always end up having to put him into bed while he cries on your shoulder all the while you try to lift this surprisingly heavy boy into his bathtub bed
but also since he’s the most artistic of the family I bet sometimes he does art while drunk?
you once went to his room trying to return a manga you took and oh no levi is painting a 2 meters ruri mural while he’s in the nude
don’t question it it helps him concentrate
sometimes sad bitch energy mixed with alcohol equals great things
he’s also in the lowkey horny drunk category
what can you do it happens when you’re a touch starved nerd,,, all alone in your room,,, drinking
 Satan
light weight happy drunk
two glasses of wine and he’s gone
remember like all cards with satan drinking? yup he’s a happy drunk
if sober he’s like ugh partying is for nerds
drunk satan just wants to party with everyone
and vibe
he’ll invite everyone to take group shots, dance all night, do weird shit that ends up being photographed (to his next day hungover dismay)
he’s terrible at club dancing but he will be found in the middle of the dancefloor going wild
expect embarrassing dancing at first
but if you want to correct him he won’t say no to dancing with you more,,, intimately
may or may not grab your hands and start waltzing at some point though
(you think it’s great he’s so happy and free so it doesn’t matter)
  Asmodeus
heavy weight horny drunk
has the highest alcohol tolerance since he’s the party animal of the family
lmao what did you expect
drink of choice is probably devilgrammable cocktails: fun, sexy, colorful just like him
he’s the definition of babe let’s drink so we can have wilder sex
loves how oversensitive he feels while drunk??? and how his senses get overwhelmed
will moan out loud if he bumps into a table while drunk no shame, no regrets
and dance really lasciviously with whoever catches his eye
if you’re romantically involved not only will he grind into you or let you do so with him
but expect lap dances
if you surprise him with lap dances instead expect to be,,,, rewarded wink wink
but if you do something meaningful for him or give him tthoughtful compliments 
he will go into his emotional mode and literally hug you and never let go 
...and you’ll have to spend your night in his arms while he tells you all about how he thinks you’re perfect for him and how thankful he is that you’re in his life
expect some tears in those moments (that he tries to hide while you casually pretend they’re not there in the first place)
Beelzebub
 idk normal tolerance and emotional drunk
since he’s HUGE it’s probably not super easy to get him drunk but also since he doesn’t really drink much it’s not hard either
talks about issues and cries
a lot
so he doesn’t drink all that much
and only does it with his family
him and belphie always end up cuddling and falling to sleep together if they both get drunk since they are both emotional messes when alcohol is involved
and you join them too if you’re drinking with them
Belphegor
heavy weight emotional drunk but on the angry side
like his twin but he probably...drinks more?? he’s such a sad bitch I mean c’mon
like his bro he’s an emotional drunk
sad crying, angry crying, just crying
that’s him that’s what you get into if you tell him to drink with you
will get in the stabby mode if too drunk
so don’t let him drink too much if you value your and his life  
...rather cuddle him until he gets too comfy and warm and falls asleep 
works every time
Diavolo
normal tolerance sleepy drunk
is used to drinking because of social gatherings and high class etiquette but he doesn’t indulge often
since he mostly drinks with luci, barbatos and you
high key prefers sweet cocktails instead of normal fancy drinks
i bet if you took him to the club he’d want to try out the weirdest most colorful cocktails
and then make barbatos redo them
can hold his liquor but he’s still a sleepy boy? like alcohol probably calms him and he’s just so comfortable and at peace he just,,, naps with his head on your shoulder (or luci’s, or barbatos’ depends who he’s drinking with or who’s closest to him at the moment)
if he’s in the club though it’s a different story
he goes full dad mode
doing all the embarrassing dad dances but proudly
remember the meme with prince william or whatever in the club? that’s him
A+ for effort though he really becomes the life of the party
 Barbatos
heavyweight vodka aunt
doesn’t really get drunk drunk since he has to take care of diavolo 24/7
but once it’s self care day
oh boy
he turns into a single suburbian mom
you’d think he’s the sophisticated wine mom but oh no
closes all doors and windows, puts on a hot bath with scented oils, lights candles, plays soft jazz in the background
and then drinks straight liquor out of the bottle
(like that one vine)
if you’re close and drink together he’ll also talk a lot more than usual
and give you fun stories about the bois and diavolo
“mc did i tell you about the first week lucifer and his brothers came to the devildom and had to cook for themselves for the first time in their lives? lucifer did not know how an oven works and that you have to close it after you’re done cooking and almost burned the whole house of lamentation down.”
 Simeon
light weight spaced out drunk
do not give him alcohol unless you want to experience weird random xD simeon
physically he’s here, spiritually he’s astral projecting
looks the same, smiles handsomely, no change here
...but if you try talking to him he’ll say the weirdest shit like
“mc do you think that the stars know that they are loved and we watch them every day”
uh idk simeon??? what do you think???
if you’re romantically involved he will flirt shamelessly, even more shamelessly than usual 
because,,, he’s just more honest so he just says whatever
people get uncomfortable around you two and end up backing off and leaving you alone
surprising enough or not he looks like he’s also a lowkey horny drunk
ofc you can’t tell since he’s so chill all the time
but I bet you he’s horny inside hornier than asmo
Solomon
heavyweight deep drunk
this boy has done some drinking in his lifetime 
...since he has whiskey grandpa vibes
will say really out of the blue thoughtful things??? which is so not like sober solomon 
“mc you remind me of one of the people that meant the most to me they too were here for me and believed in me when no one else did and I have to thank you for that”
wow solomon that sure was random since you were talking about how cold it is outside before but thank you i guess
fakes being not drunk easily but you can tell the moment he starts speaking that he’s gone
also looks at you straight in the eyes when he talks to you
and sometimes starts giggling or blushing
which makes you go??????? solomon are you okay
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firefly-in-darkness · 4 years
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Worst Idea Ever [Part Four]
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Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.
Series Summary → Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what’s the worst that could happen?
Part FourSummary → Y/N takes Bucky to a place from her past, meeting people that he never imagined Y/N to be friends with and someone else from her past tries to come back into her life.
Word Count → 3k.
Part Two Warnings → 18+, swearing, angst, jealousy, illusion to sexy things. Two idiots.
Beta → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.
Series Taglist  → Open, just drop me an ask!
A/N → And once again, I wrote the first draft and left it in my docs like I’d posted it... thank you @whitestarbucky​ for being late to the party and reminding me that I actually hadn’t posted it.
Series List // Marvel List // Masterlist
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Previously in Part Three: He sunk back into the pillow, his hand dragging down his face. Bucky wasn’t sure what the billionaire genius was referring to, but he felt guilty for whatever Y/N had to witness of him and Jackie. He thought going home with someone else would help quash his feelings but now that he was sober, he knew that it was a stupid idea. He only felt guilt and remorse for what had happened the previous night.
Hooking up with a woman in front of Y/N was the worst idea ever.
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The breeze from the rental car window was just enough to keep Y/N alert as she drove the last stretch of their five-hour journey, well maybe a bit longer if you counted going through the whole airport process. Y/N had felt tense the second she met Bucky at JFK and the thought of being confined to a small space that was thousands of feet in the air.
Y/N didn’t want to talk about how things had become uncomfortable after Peter and Gwen’s rehearsal dinner. She was embarrassed but she also had avoided the subject completely when she met him the next day for the wedding. Bucky’s familial duties took him away from her which, to her benefit, meant that she hardly saw him. 
The celebration was enjoyable but there was an annoying voice in the back of her head telling her to talk to Bucky about everything. But she couldn’t, he was her friend of over a decade. Plus, now that they were on their way to another wedding, it had already been three weeks since they last saw each other. 
Bucky had probably forgotten about the incident, and he was too drunk to see that he and Jackie hurt her. She should just brush it under the carpet, right?
The journey wasn’t as bad as Y/N thought; she was able to lose herself in her book or the music playlist that Nat had sent to her a few days ago. ‘Perfect for long journeys’, she’d said. All the while, Bucky lounged in the seat beside her, reading on his kindle or chatting about the usual nonsense that was his dating life.
It was as if nothing had happened, nothing had changed, and Y/N knew that she was just overthinking the possibility of them crossing the line of friendship. It was only a side effect of their fake dating arrangement and being in romantically charged places.
The motel parking lot gravel crunched under the tyres as Y/N pulled in. Relief flooded her and she sluggishly climbed out, stretching her arms high and shaking out her legs. The freedom from the cramped space behind the wheel didn’t alleviate heaviness in her muscles and all that she craved was a nap.
Bucky headed to the reception to pick up the key, and within minutes they were able to access the room, and Y/N instantly flopped face-first onto the bed. Kicking her shoes off and shuffling up the mattress, she pulled the side of the duvet and rolled over into a cocoon and let the nap take hold of her.
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Bucky clambered through the door with Y/N’s luggage as well as his own, muttering to himself about her being a lazy pain in his ass. But when he saw her peacefully sleeping form on the bed, he couldn’t help but smile. The way she had cocooned herself in the covers, and how her soft snores puffed out her lips; it was adorable.
Then the guilt reared its head. He’d tried to approach the subject of the rehearsal dinner at the airport but from the tension in her body and the intense focus on reading her book, he knew that she wouldn’t talk. She was embarrassed, and he would have been too if he’d been caught with a sex toy at a rehearsal dinner.
Deep down, he knew something else was bothering Y/N. She was too focused on the road ahead instead of listening to his woeful attempts at dating. His thoughts kept reverting to the moment he kicked Jackie out after awaking to Y/N’s text messages; he felt like he’d upset Y/N, disappointed her but wasn’t that what this was all about? They were being one another’s company until they found someone they wanted to date. That’s what this was.
Since Peter’s wedding, fond moments Bucky had shared with Y/N had started to dance behind his eyes. Their shared memories from over the years playing on repeat at night. Making breakfast together while the rest of their friends groaned about their hangovers in the other room, the candid way she’d grab his prosthetic arm and he always felt a rush of warmth when he realised that once again, it didn’t bother her. 
That was before all the technological adaptations to connect to his nervous system. She touched his arm like it was real. And once those adaptations were made, Bucky felt her tender touch and the soft skin of her palm. He felt at ease, calm, at peace even, with her compared to the rest of the people in his life, the world. He was whole with her.
A horn blasted in the parking lot and caught Bucky’s attention before he refocused on Y/N’s sleeping form. Bucky wasn’t sure about his feelings anymore, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of their pact or whether Y/N felt something more. He could be just imagining it. She had never judged him, had always been by his side at college. 
They were partners in crime, as thick as thieves. And since then, they’d drifted into a more casual friendship but maybe there could be something there. Stop it. He berated and carried on unloading the car, focused intently on collecting their belongings.
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Y/N felt better than before but she still felt drowsy, and the flickering television showing an old western film lulled her further into the bed. Absentmindedly, she pulled Bucky’s arm around her shoulder and nuzzled into his chest. The smell of his cologne added to the comfort she already found herself in, then she realised what she had done.
Now that she was there, she didn’t know what to do, she was frozen in place. She could remove her arms from his waist, or maybe pretend she was still asleep and roll away again. The embarrassment tingled at her cheeks and the feel of his toned stomach under her forearm made her core ache with want. She snapped out of it when she felt Bucky shuffle away from her.
“Erm, what are you doing?” Bucky frowned at her, seriousness in his features.
“It’s just a hug, I’m half asleep, chill out.” Y/N pretended to not let the hurt of rejection show and put it back onto Bucky, “Do you not like cuddles or something?”
Bucky unfurled his arm and shook his head at her, “I don’t wanna cuddle you.” 
Y/N sighed dramatically and flopped back onto bed dramatically, “Fine, don’t crawl over to me when it gets cold in here tonight.”
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Bucky had lied, he did like cuddles. He wanted to cuddle Y/N with every fibre of his being. He didn’t want to get used to it, to the feel of Y/N’s warm body pressed against him, only to have it be taken away. He didn’t want to miss her touch once he had been graced with it. He wasn’t good enough for her, anything more than friendship wouldn’t work. It surely couldn't?
He turned off the television and decided to leave her to sleep in peace. He knew for certain that the next time she woke up, she’d be cranky because she hadn’t eaten. With the fear of Y/N throwing a tantrum like a two-year-old, he headed out into the town to find some food for the drama queen.
Bucky threw on his jacket and grabbed the keys, Y/N’s phone flashing drew his attention. A notification: an envelope with Dean bolded beside it. He knew that he wouldn’t read it, no matter how tempting the voices in the back of his head were telling him to see what had happened since Y/N and Dean’s rendezvous at Darcy’s wedding.
Bucky, annoyed at the taunting notification, he knew Y/N’s password, it was the same for everything and he’d constantly scolded her for that. But he’d never invade her privacy. And right now, he needed to get out of the room. It was stifling and it felt like the walls had closed in around him. Y/N’s soft snores had become irritating as the recurring feeling of jealousy took over and he stormed out of the room.
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A group of large men covered in tattoos with long beards, unmistakably their Harleys resting in the parking bay out the front of the venue made Y/N feel like she was finally home. It wasn’t the usual aesthetic for a wedding reception and maybe Y/N should have warned Bucky. Where’s the fun in that? She thought as she reached the entrance, but Bucky was no longer beside her.
Y/N turned to find his confused face across the sidewalk, “Come on, we’re here.”
Bucky jogged over to her, he frowned as he read the sign on the wall, “Right, we are going to a bar called Hell House that used to be a Catholic boarding school for a wedding?”
“Yes, I told you, it’s for some dear friends from when I lived here.” She ushered him inside with a giggle. “I know my way around, just follow me.”
“You said you lived in a suburb,” Bucky muttered as he walked into the dimly lit bar.
The number of people dressed similarly to the men outside was growing tenfold and Y/N could feel the tension reeling off him. She knew he wouldn’t be scared, but probably surprised by the company she kept in her hometown. They were a different, very different group of friends to those she met at college.
“Hey Chocolate Puddin’!” Y/N screamed and threw her arms around the man wiping down a table.  The man reciprocated with the usual awkward hug; not holding her too tightly in case Y/N clocked him one for feeling her up on accident again. She pulled away and gestured to her date. “And this is Bucky.”
He shook Bucky’s hand and introduced himself, “Weasel. This one just mocks me for not knowing what emojis mean.”
Y/N tugged on Bucky’s jacket to bring his ear closer and whispered, “He thought the poop emoji was chocolate ice cream or somethin’.”
“What can I get you to drink?” Weasel asked as he wiped the glasses and placed them on the bar.
“Blowjob!!” Another man shouted and spun Y/N around, pulling her away from the bar and out of Bucky’s hearing range. “Well, look at you Care Bear. Looking like a fuckable plushie.”
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Weasel muttered under his breath and fixed the bailey and whipped cream shot while jealousy brewed in Bucky’s chest as he watched Y/N being picked up by the handsome man. He couldn’t react, how could he in a room full of giants and he’d hardly admitted his feelings to himself yet. 
Instead, he clutched the bottle of beer that Weasel handed him. Y/N knew these people, if she didn’t want to be manhandled then she would have done something about it. And Bucky wasn’t sure why that annoyed him more; that she was more casual with affections or that she didn’t do this with him.
Bucky turned away for a second only to turn around to see a woman grabbing Y/N’s face and pushing their faces together in a smacking kiss. His mouth dropped agape, as the women giggled and hugged one another. He needed to talk to you about what kind of place you grew up in because this was not what he pictured.
“You get used to it.” Weasel commented and held up two crossed fingers, “those three are like that. Never known a throuple like it.”
Bucky frowned, “a what?”
“He’s messing with you Buck, he’s just jealous that he never got to tap any of us. Bucky, this is Wade and Vanessa.”
It then dawned on him that the man that ordered a blow job and the woman that snogged his fake date were the newlyweds. Vanessa was one of Y/N’s oldest friends from high school and had introduced her to Wade, but never explained how. Maybe the venue had something to do with it but now he was even more curious and a little less jealous.
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The four of them drank round after round at a table that had been set aside for the special couple. The table didn’t look any different to the others apart from the fact that it was probably the cleanest and the only distinguishable feature was the folded piece of paper with the words ‘reservation for wade & ness’ scrawled on it.
“So how did you two meet?” Bucky asked the couple.
“Y/N and I went our separate ways after school.” Vanessa held out her hand on the table, Y/N immediately grabbing it. “One of us sold themselves to the world of men and the other became a stripper.”
Y/N cackled, and Bucky enjoyed the carefree nature that Y/N had around this pair. She was uninhibited and more herself than he’d seen in a long time. Growing up with someone is a different type of friendship with the ones you meet at college. Bucky’s mind drifted to Steve Rogers, his childhood friend and how they were practically brothers, always getting into trouble. 
“Wade came in after finishing a job, courtesy of me.” Y/N dramatically placed her hand on her chest then looked at Bucky, “Oh right, you don’t know what Wade does for a living. So erm, basically he can be hired to help people with difficult situations rather than calling the police.”
Bucky paused and dropped the bottle onto the table with a thunk and immediately found Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t sure where this story was going but he didn’t like the sound of it at all. Not one little bit.
“My ex was causing me some hassle and Wade gave him a little scare.” Y/N beamed through her drunkenness and turned back to the couple, “and because Wade came the next night to pay his merc fees, he met Ness.”
“Oh yeah, it was that douche, Francis. Francis. Stalker shit his pants when he saw me.” Wade barked out a laugh and turned to Vanessa, muttering words into her ear. The couple becoming completely lost in one another.
Bucky turned to Y/N, “Didn’t you date Francis in college?”
Y/N hiccupped and nodded, then vacated her seat before Bucky could respond. He watched her fiddle with the dials on the jukebox while he mulled over his thoughts; why hadn’t Y/N come to him or Sam about Francis? 
He’d have to ask her when she was sober because there was no way he was going to get the information from her now or the newlyweds. They were almost tearing each other’s clothes off as they made out. 
Y/N had finally picked a track and it boomed through the speakers. Her and a group of others dancing along to the beat. Bucky left the passionate display of intimacy and joined Y/N on the makeshift dance floor which was just some tables pushed to the side.
“Buckaroo!” She crooned and pulled him into a formal hold for such an upbeat song, “So who are we hooking you up with tonight?”
Bucky was completely surprised at her comment, he had hoped that she didn’t like what had happened on their last date and how it turned out with Jackie. Then again, Dean had text her earlier. He must have read this situation completely wrong, and he didn’t want her to know that. She couldn’t know how he felt, he wasn’t sure about it either. That’s what he kept telling himself.
He decided to play along and nod towards a young woman, “what about her?”
Y/N checked over his shoulder as they spun around the small space, she rolled her eyes at the sight of Hope Summers, “I don’t think that’s a good idea unless you want to get beaten up by her dad.”
He followed Y/N’s line of sight and spotted the man glaring at him as if he knew exactly what Bucky had thought or said about his daughter. He immediately shifted Y/N around, spinning her out and back in to avoid looking into the creepy old man’s death stare.
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“I need a drink,” Y/N stopped dancing, gathering her breath.
Bucky led the way to the bar and Y/N happily held onto his hand until they were met with Weasel’s agitated face as he held the corded phone to his ear before placing the receiver to his chest.
“It’s for you.” He gestured to Y/N who rounded the bar with confusion etched across her face. Nobody who knew Hellhouse's number knew she was here or would be calling because they’re all here as far as she could tell. 
Weasel kept his hand over the mouthpiece as she approached, “It’s Tyler.”
Y/N glanced to Bucky who sipped on his beer and talked to Neena, another of her high school friends that had ended up in similar work as Wade, she was nicknamed Lucky for all the ways she miraculously got out of tricky situations.
Bucky ducked closer to Neena’s, whispering into her ear and a wave of anger erupted in Y/N. She was done with being second best, Bucky was only doing this to meet other women. She wasn’t what he wanted.
Finally, she put the phone to her ear and prepared herself to listen to whatever her ex-boyfriend wanted to say. With a deep breath, she answered the call as coolly as she could.
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Bucky turned back to the bar and saw the frustration on Y/N’s face growing, it wasn’t a pleasant phone call. Plus, surely, they would have rung her mobile. He scooted around the bar and approached Y/N, her back now turned from him and her fingers wrapped and unwrapped from the coil of the phone’s cord.
“Tyler, please just listen to me.” She hissed. “I am not interested. I’ve moved on.”
Bucky froze at Y/N’s words, when did she move on? And who had she moved onto? Was it that guy that she met at Darcy's wedding? Dean. The name grated his nerves. He couldn’t blame her; she was allowed to move on. Worry filled his thoughts, could he have caused Y/N to run into the arms of someone else because he hooked up with Jackie.
Y/N slammed the handset into its holder on the wall, spinning to Bucky and the moment he saw her unshed tears, he pulled her into his arms. Pushing his feelings aside, he knew that he needed to be there for her regardless of if she had moved on to someone new.
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nevertheless-moving · 4 years
Text
Suicidal Misunderstanding AU Part V (SW Time Travel AU #27)
Part I - - - - -  Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV 
After a meandering walk through what felt like every path the hanging gardens and marsh pools had to offer, Obi-Wan stopped to lean against a stone wall. 
“Obi-Wan? Are you ready to stop and eat something? As nice as this has been, I’m getting hungry and I’m guessing you are too.” 
Anakin was only being a little sarcastic. It had genuinely been nice to peacefully spend the day with Obi-Wan like this- they hadn’t been to the marsh habitats since the war started. He had resigned himself to watching Obi-Wan enthusiastically greet every wandering knight, master, and elder who they passed. 
It was actually starting to become impressive- Anakin never realized how many members of the Order his Master was friendly with- no wonder he was given a seat on the high council! But after the last heartfelt clasping of hands with a completely unfamiliar Bothan (thankfully for Anakin’s petty jealousy, Obi-Wan wasn’t hugging everyone), Anakin had asked who the knight was.
Obi Wan frowned. “No idea. But I suppose I must have seen him somewhere.” 
Anakin was no longer feeling impressed.
When a group of crechelings wandered by, Obi-Wan appeared briefly overwhelmed with emotion. His shields (apparently even better drunken than sober) didn’t let anything specific slip. But he knew Obi-Wan was feeling something intensely. Bizarrely, instead of saying hello, Obi-Wan hurried out and away with Anakin dragged behind, bringing them back to the stone wall and their skipped breakfast.
“Not yet.” Obi-Wan responded hoarsely. “I want to visit the Room of A Thousand Fountains first, and say a few more goodbyes.”
“Goodbyes?” Anakin asked, a slight chill running down his back. “We’re not shipping back out until the end of the week. Do you always say goodbye to everyone this thoroughly before redeployment?”
“No. Do you think I should have?” Obi-Wan frowned. “I feel like that would have been more upsetting than anything else.”
“Ok then, why are you saying goodbye now? To the whole order?” 
Obi-Wan didn’t reply, he just pushed off the wall to continue on his quest to apparently visit every corner of the temple.
“Master, please, you’re worrying me. If you won’t eat, then let me take you to the Healing Halls so they can check you over for drugs. We can visit the fountains after.”
Obi-Wan finally paused, thinking that over. “I would like to see Bant. She should be there, right?”  
Bant did end up being there, and was more touched than disturbed by Obi-Wan’s sincere joy to see her. While Obi-Wan wandered the halls greeting injured Knights, she ran several tests.
“As far as I can tell, all you had last night was human-appropriate alcohol. No force-user specific drug interactions, and no traces of Spice. It’s possible there’s something I missed, but your force presence doesn’t feel off balance in the manner I specifically associate with drug-induced altered perception. Your blood sugar is a little low and you’re somewhat dehydrated, especially considering you’re in the temple, not out on a mission.”
“I’ll take care of my physical needs after I visit the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Just because a vision isn’t purely induced by the force doesn’t mean I can’t draw meaning from it. I do appreciate how you always looked out for me though, Bant. I’ve missed your fussing.” Obi-Wan smiled, clasping one of her hands in his.
Bant sighed, “If Master Yoda wasn’t off world I’d urge you to talk to him. I haven’t seen you this shaken by a vision since we were younglings. Even if you do seem to be handling it fairly... calmly.” 
Obi-Wan laughed. “I’ll tell him you said that someday. I might be wrong, but I think he’ll be happy to learn about-” Obi-Wan gestured around vaguely, “all this. I’ll talk to him at some point. I’m sure of it.” 
She glanced over at Anakin, who had been a quietly looming shadow the whole visit. He seemed both relieved by the diagnosis as well as bewildered. “Can I speak to you privately?”
Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin stalked out of the test room. 
She scrutinized him, worry more obvious now, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slipping tenses this whole time. You’re still not sure where your vision ends and reality begins, are you? Do you even know when you are?”
Obi-Wan looked down. “I know what’s real and what’s not. I’m just...enjoying not fully living in the moment. I have every intention of waking up.”
“Yeah, that’s a BIG red flag, Obi-Wan. Force.” She tilted her head back and forth, examining him with obvious concern. “I am scheduling an appointment for a soul healer and you are going to go, understand?” She demanded.
Obi-Wan agreed far too easily. She reluctantly let him leave with an earnest promise to eat something real.
Obi-Wan came outside to find Anakin pacing. 
“I’m glad you’re still here,” he told his former Padawan, ignoring the ache in his chest.
“Of course Ori’vod,” Anakin said, ducking his head with a shy smile. “What did Bant say?”
“She wants me to eat something real and visit a soul healer.” Obi-Wan sighed. “Well, I can do at least one of those things.”
“A soul healer! She thinks you’re crazy?” Anakin asked offended. 
“First of all, you don’t have to be unstable to visit a soul healer. I’ve seen them in the past, when there wasn’t as much wrong with me. I’m sorry if I led you to believe you couldn’t seek out help for your problems.” Obi-Wan said. Another mistake.
“I-I know that. I just thought, you know, Jedi can be judgmental of that sort of thing. A good Jedi is supposed to be able to just, meditate stuff away.” Anakin said bitterly.
Obi-Wan thought furiously. Was this why he had been so blindsided by Anakin’s fall? Had his padawan been so afraid of judgement that he hid all of the warning sides of his struggles with darkness? Maybe he could ask Owen for some sort of petty assistance when he brought over bantha milk next time, to demonstrate to young Luke that it was ok to ask for help. No, he was probably still too young for those sorts of lessons to have much meaning. The insight would require meditation, when he was more sober. 
Unsure how ‘Anakin’ would respond, Obi-Wan tentatively said, “You’re right, that some Jedi might judge for seeking such aid. But I think in the last years of the war, that sort of opinion became less and less common. After all, an ideal Jedi shouldn’t be leading an army. I don’t know if anyone can be perfect during war, let alone a peacekeeper.”
When that failed to garner positive or negative reply, Obi-Wan let out a breath. “It hardly matters, since I can’t exactly visit a therapist, let alone a soul healer, given my present living conditions.” 
Anakin seemed to process that, giving Obi-Wan a long, searching look. “What’s your next point?”
“Hmm?”
“You said first of all, and I think that was all one thing, so what’s your second point?”
“Not exactly being able to visit a soul healer regularly doesn’t count as a separate retort?”
“I guess? I’m just trying to understand what you’re trying to tell me” A twinge of frustration crept into Anakin’s otherwise level tone.
"I appreciate that, truly, and I regret the number of hurtful miscommunications that sprung up from me failing to do just that. Well, I suppose, by most reasonable standards, I am ‘crazy.’ Getting some help with unraveling my mind would probably be best, if it were an option, but it isn’t so...” Obi-Wan shrugged.
Before any followup questions could be asked, they finally arrived at the main entrance to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The archway was stunning, water flowing upwards along the stone in intricate, shifting tessellations. When they stepped through, Obi-Wan was delighted to see Mace Windu sitting on a bench by the entrance. 
“Mace! I was hoping to see you.”
Mace looked at him. He seemed at first, to be utterly unsurprised by the duo’s arrival. But the longer he stared, the more visible shock overtook his features. “Master Koon recommended I look for you...force what happened.”
Obi-Wan just chuckled. “Oh you know. What didn’t happen.”
“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked urgently. “What do you see, Master Windu?”
Obi-Wan tried to wave them both off, laugh a little more forced. “Please, I came here to relax. I’m sure it would be easier to say what’s not wrong with-”
“Kark it, Obi-Wan this isn’t a joking matter.” Master Windu’s voice was calm, but insistent. He slowly started approaching Obi-Wan as though the fellow council member were a feral loth-cat. 
“You look as if...nearly every shatter point around you has broken open. Force, I think you’ve been carrying some of these with you since you were a child. Usually when things that deep break...And some of these- some of these are too big to have just affected you.” Mace hesitantly reached forward, brushing against something invisible.
A chill ran down Anakin’s spine, again. What the kriff did Obi-Wan see in his vision? Last night he mentioned the temple burning, their rooms turned to ash, and Anakin had just...let that go in favor of greedily spending time with this addictively affectionate version of Obi-Wan.
“Mace...” Obi-Wan groaned. “I had been wondering what you might say to me but this is...please, can’t you just give me a hug and let me enjoy the peace for one more hour.”
“Master Kenobi,” Mace said, seeming to revert to an even more serious version of himself. “What I see cracked open around you is bigger than the reemergence of the Sith on Naboo, bigger than the first battle of Genosis. Whatever has happened, you cannot possibly keep it to yourself, practically or morally.”
To the shock of both Windu and Skywalker, Obi-Wan actually rolled his eyes at that. “Mace. You are not telling me anything I do not already know. And I am choosing to spend a little longer enjoying the unique joys of the Temple before dealing with the harshness of reality. Haven’t I earned a small break? I’m not abandoning my duty, but if I don’t take care of myself where I can I’ll go madder than I already have.” 
At no point did Obi-Wan’s voice get whiny or upset, he just calmly dropped a series of bombshells like he was repeating an argument.
Mace and Anakin exchanged glances, but if Mace was trying to communicate something, it was utterly lost on Anakin. 
“Alright, Master Kenobi. I trust your judgement.” 
And, to Anakin’s shock, Mace pulled Obi-Wan for a tight hug. “And I care about you, Obi-Wan.”
For a brief, hysterical moment, Anakin Skywalker wondered if he was about to witness his Master break down crying on the shoulder of Mace Windu the Master of the Jedi Order.
But Obi-Wan just let out a slow breath and returned the embrace before bowing deeply in Respect. Windu returned the bow with a placid expression. 
“If you’ll excuse me...I think I’d like to stand by the waterfall alone for a moment.” He paused, turning to address Anakin. “If you’re willing to wait for me, I’ll happily rejoin you by the glowing mushrooms.” Anakin nodded silently and Obi-Wan beamed before leaving the two alone together.
Mace turned to the young knight in a silent demand for answers, and, for once, Anakin was eager to share what he was dealing with. “He came back drunk last night, talking about the temple burning down, and being well-”
“Unusually emotionally expressive?” Mace offered.
Anakin nodded. “Took a blood sample to analyze in the morning. He woke determined to hug every sentient being in the temple. I actually managed to get him to the halls just before we came here; Master Eerin said there was nothing in his system and...I just don’t know. He’s been off today, but not in a bad way, exactly. Could a vision have caused the shattering you saw?
Mace furrowed his brow. “Not any vision like I’ve ever seen but...these are dark times. And Master Kenobi has had historically bad luck. If some new cataclysm is coming for us- I absolutely believe he’d be the first of us to stumble into it. Something terrible and extraordinary must have happened in the 24 hours since I last saw him in person.”
A beat passed.
“I should go to the mushrooms before I lose track of him,” Anakin said quietly.
Mace nodded. “Skywalker, if you need assistance dragging him back to the healers for whatever reason, comm me, understood?” 
“Understood. Master Koon said the same.” the Knight replied, heart pounding.
The Windu clasped him on the shoulder firmly, "I’m going to check in with Master Eerin. It’s possible she has some suspicions that my observations will help her confirm. Until then...”
“I’ll look out for him.” Anakin promised.
Part VI
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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years
Text
Damien Dalgaard x Experimenting!Fem!Reader || Drabble
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Plot: You want to safely experiment with recreational drugs but Damien wants to keep that from happening so he stretches his power in the world of drug sales to prevent anyone of note from selling to you.
Warnings: References to responsible recreational drug use, drug dealers, slightly controlling/possessive ways. Sexual references, also. Its mostly fluffy though
I stand one bisexual drug dealer
~~~
"Jacob, please. Come on. I have the money, I have my drivers licence- you know me! I don't want anything crazy, just something fun! And safe!" You press your hands together in a 'praying' gesture and set the hulking figure with a pleading gaze. "And I have plans to take it, at home, with my sober mum in the room. Really, I have no precarious plans!"
"I know, I trust you sweetheart. But I just cant sell you anything." He shrugs, turning his body towards the bar exit so he can escape you- but your hand flies from your side and to his forearm, gently, to stop him. He whines. "Come on, Y/N... "
"Jacob... " You fire back, in the same pleading tone. Then an awkward smile slips across your lips and raise an eyebrow in question, crossing your arms over your chest. "Come on," You tilt your head to the side. "What's really going on? You're the 4th person that's refused to sell me anything and I'm running out of notable dealers."
Jacob rubs the back of his thick neck, the skin stretching under his palm, and he grits his teeth together. "Look, I... " Making a frustrated noise, he lets go and shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. "Someone... doesn't seem to uh... be too pleased, at the idea of you... " He tilts his head to one side, then the other. Choosing his words carefully- not that he has to. Understanding is starting to sink in as he speaks, anyway. Finally he drops his arm and sighs out a frustrated sigh. "Buying any drugs."
Damn it.
As Jacob says sorry and slips away from you successfully this time as you sigh and lean back on the pillar behind you. A certain blue eyed devil boy, who was unknowingly to you, keeping an eye on the exchange between you and Jacob from the bar, picks up his drink and slips through the crowd to you. As soon as you see him, you roll your eyes. Of course he's here, on top of everything else!
You refuse to even say hello to your stalker and give him the damn satisfaction, and just glare at up at him from the pillar instead. Although, you're careful not to pout- lest you only cement his juvenile opinion of you.
"Sorry, sunshine. Got to him a few minutes before you got through the door."
You huff. "Damiennnnn." A smirk flickers at the corners of the raven haired dealer's lips, just like any time you would groan out his name; The context be damned. "Why're you doing this?"
"For your own good, baby. You know tha- " Before he can even finish that sentence, you're rolling your eyes and moving to leave him right there in the bar, but he manages to side step you and get in front of you again. His hand curls around your arm, gently. "You wouldn't like it. I know you wouldn't, you're a good kid. I'm just saving you from a bad experience."
"That's not your choice to make." You snap back, gaze meeting his and, for once, being the icier party. "Damien you're not my mum. And you're not my boyfriend- neither of which would change a damn thing about my decision, if you were in fact either of those things to me."
"Well that's just too bad sweetheart, because alert the presses, cuz I seem to have just beat the system." Like the hot douche he tends to be, he makes a show of looking you over, from head to toe. "Because I don't see any fucking drugs, on you."
You growl, and exclaim hopelessly. "I would if you would just sell them to me!"
"Not gonna happen."
"Why!?"
"I told you." Damien moves closer, hunching over you. You can feel his breath on your forehead, but still you stay firm. He's annoying, and frustrating, and a pain in the ass. Your personal brand of sexy, yes, but all those other things first and foremost. "You're a goody-two-shoes, and you wouldn't like what it does to you." Oh, he says it like its scientific fact. And it seriously grates on your nerves. Why is he so insistent??!
You roll your eyes deeply, enough to really feel it before talking again. "I wouldn't or you wouldn't?"
A slow, mischievous grin slips over his face. But its just a show and does little to cover up the unsureness in his eyes. "Sweetheart. Does that distinction really matter that much?"
You cross your arms. "It does if you're thinking like a boyfriend but refuse to act like one, jerk." For a moment he doesn't say anything. His mouth opens a little, like words should come out immediately - a deflection, a denial. Something clean and easy, - but he just... gets stuck. Freezes. Realisation of how real those words you just spat out must truly be slowly dawn on you, and you revert your gaze from his. The anger from before kind of just, slips right out of you. "Cuz... you come to see me a lot. You try to protect me. We're having regular sex, you bring me my (Chosen drink) for no conceivable reason other then to make me happy... " Things start to make sense to you as 2 and 2 come together. Your eyebrows knit together and your gaze flickers up to his, then away again. Then you shrug. "But then again, that cant be it, right? You don't do relationships, right?"
"Right." He replies back, quickly this time. Too quickly.
"Right." You say back, then chew on your bottom lip and look around. You cant see much of the rest of the bar, and the partyers being loud as hell around because Damien's so close and is shielding you from everything, but you don't know quite what else to do, now. He's frozen, and even when he defrosts you're not sure he's going to have anything remotely productive to say and might just brush you off actually which would be sucky, so... Maybe, you should... go???
But just as you move to slip around Damien and leave, he seems to gather his wits and clenches his grip harder down on your arm. "Hold on, wait a moment, there." He looks up and finally meets my eyes again; You raise an eyebrow expectantly. What? He sighs, and leans forward, rests an arm on the pillar above your head - caging you in, - and squeezes his eyes closed for a moment, controlling himself. "Where are you going?" For gods sake.
"Home- there you go thinking like a boyfriend again though! Why do you need to know where I'm gonna be??"
"Why do you answer me, in the first place?" He shoots right back this time, causing you to blanche up at him. A slow smirk spreads across his lips again- this time, real. There's a definite mischievous sparkle in those blue-blue eyes. "Do you want me to be your boyfriend, Y/N?"
Sputtering, mostly to waste time so you can find the right response to a bold question like that, you say nothing. What? What? This is not about you- Why don't you feel violently ill at the concept, though?
Must be just because he's standing so close. He's pretty, that's it. Your own personal, addictive brand of pretty. That's all- "Maybe?"
... what??
For a moment all the mystery, mischief, good old bad-boy energy and just, plain, darkness just leaves him. Its unbelievably endearing and all you can do is stand there like a doll watching Damien laugh, quietly, at your response and probably the fact that you must look like a startled baby bird right now too. Briefly you let yourself dip into that box pushed into the very back of your mind, hiding away all the things that you shouldn't think about regarding Damien, and wonder if that's what he looked like all the time, before. When he was all geeky and book-nose-y. A 'goody-two-shoes' himself. You read about that part of his life on Gossip Girl. He didn't talk about it, for damn sure.
Then you shut that down because its in that box for a reason. Its not appropriate for you to dig that deep, with him.
But also you're totally confused, with where this conversation might be going. Should you pick up that box? Its becoming dangerously close to being appropriate.
"Maybe?" He asks, clearly amused. Like a chameleon, his colours change back again to drug dealing dickhead. You don't mind. You like both.
You tilt your head to the side, raising an eyebrow. "... Well, do you want me to be your girlfriend?"
He rolls his eyes, smirking, and chooses to torture you with his own 'Maybe', making you huff. He's amused by it, before setting you with a serious, questioning look. "If I did, though... What would that mean about your little drug quest you got going, here?"
Oh.
You're back here again.
Wonderful.
"Well," You take a deep breath, and reach up to cautiously hang your arms loosely around his neck; Something you've done plenty of times before but never so intimately. Not this kind intimately, anyway. Absolutely not. This kind, is what makes you nervous. More then when you met him, your first time at a bar on your own. More then any of the times someone dangerous approached you both when you were with him, definitely more then when you had sex - no matter where, - . More then roller coasters and giant swings. "I don't think it would go away totally," You say, carefully. "if I was your girlfriend, or anyone's girlfriend. Then, I think I'd be... too preoccupied, to think about that. For a little while, at least."
After a moment of letting your words sink in, Damien makes a thoughtful 'Hm' sound and wraps both his arms around your waist- gathering you up against him. "Sounds like time that could be used convincing you not to try."
"You could see it that way." You grin, rolling your eyes. But like a light switch, those words seem to ease the whole situation. Damien's hands on you, the feel of him close, isn't anything new to you. But it feels different all the same. Like you're really allowed to like it, now. In all the most innocent ways possible. "But good luck."
"I think I'll take my chances with that option." Damien proclaims, and for a moment you just stand there together. The bar's music blaring in your ears, making them pink and hot, the material of his dark coat cosy to the touch and making you feel enclosed in it and safe despite all the chaos that bars encase, Damien looking around the room; Not assessing possible sales for once or checking for danger. Just... stewing in his satisfaction. The frustration bleeding from the both of you earlier seemingly evaporated like it was nothing, as you grin down to yourself. "Also," He pipes up again coyly after a few minutes, catching your attention by squeezing you a little bit, also. "With you as my girlfriend," Girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend- "now, I can do this any time I want."
Then he leans down and presses his lips against yours - less needy then usual. Not looking for anything more. Just kissing you to feel your lips against his, - in a kiss that sends tingles all over your body, and forces you to get up onto the tips of your toes to reciprocate with as much passion.
BONUS:
"Welp, I'm gonna get going now." You exclaim once the kiss is over, or you just cant hold your breath anymore, and reluctantly pull out of his arms, fixing your bag on your shoulder. You flash him a grin, tilting your head to the side. "Probably see you tomorrow?"
"Where are you going?"
"Home!" What does he mean, 'Where are you going?' ??? "I told you. I have cookies there, and my sister will eat all of them if I stay away all night."
Damien just stares back at you, waiting for some punch line, apparently. When no punchline comes after too many moments, he holds up a hand to slow you down- as if you had moved at all, with him staring at you like that. Any dose of those blue eyes are lethal. "Wait, you're really going home?"
"Yep." You pop the 'p', equally confused with him as he is with you. What does he mean, 'Wait, you're really going home'?????? Of course you're going home. That's what you said? Twice?
He just continues to stare at you. "What?? Cookies, Damien."
"I can buy you cookies." He assures, but you shake your head.
Tempting, but- "Mm, not these. I baked them."
"I can buy you ingredients."
"But then I have to wait for them to bake, and cool, when I can just take a 15 minute tram ride home and eat them now."
"Okay- " Damien sighs, kneading his forehead. "Alright, I might be new to the boyfriend thing Y/N, but don't people in relationships traditionally spend a- well, an obscene, amount of time together?" You smirk and giggle, at that. Oh, that's the issue. He thought becoming your boyfriend would be a bigger thing.
Hmm, you look away and wonder how to word this...
"Damien. Heads up, but as far as I'm aware, you've been acting like my boyfriend for months now. We've just labelled it now- not much is gonna change, except maybe I'll use the 'boyfriend card' sometimes with you. Don't sweat." With that, you lean up and peck him on the cheek as he smirks; relieved. Then you step back totally, resigned to not touching him again tonight even if you want to. That was goodbye. "Now, I'll text you later? Have a good night!"
"Night." He chuckles, pocketing his hands and turning to watch you leave.
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tojikai · 2 years
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Alright, more thoughts LOL, but I find it funny how Satoru wants to return Y/N to her “original state” where she was happy and full of life and I wonder if he understands that he’s the one who took that part of her away when he left her. Like does he see that he himself is the cause of it? Maybe, maybe not.
“The dull ache inside his chest kept getting more and more intense as he realized that he had completely lost you. Not just as a girlfriend but also as a best friend. That’s where the two of you started, and it’s a shame that you cannot even be that in the end.” Boy, and whose fault is that, huh? 😊
“He’d never tell anyone but there’s not a single day after you broke up that he didn’t think of you.” Someone is still confused and in denial I see.
“ ’Rooftop. You don’t want Shoko to see you.’ Satoru cannot bring himself to speak. It felt like anything he’ll talk about would only lead him back to you. Rie wouldn’t appreciate how he’s acting right now but it’s not something he can control.
She doesn’t understand how all of his mistakes are catching up to him and how it feels like they could eat him alive any minute.”
This. More denial. And compared to how Satoru thinks about Y/N who he straight up sees as someone that always understand him, subconsciously, he probably realizes that Rie will never get him as much as Y/N does, but, since he wants to commit to his decision, he chooses to be in denial of what he truly feels and settled for his second best choice instead, no matter how unpleasant it is.
“Satoru doesn’t understand why you sobered up when you got with him. But he also doesn’t know why you were able to hold him down for five years. Your relationship was an enigma, and it’s fair on both sides.” This part makes me feel like Satoru is ignorant of how Y/N truly feels for him and how much effect he has on her. Like I wonder what he would think if Y/N told him she sobered up because she wants to be better for him. I don’t think he can take it if that’s the case. Knowing that someone who loves you enough to improve on themselves is a very touching thing. And Satoru will probably never know about that for fucking things up between them. He doesn’t deserve to know it btw. Considering how clueless he sounds here, I feel like he didn’t put much effort into trying to understand Y/N. Their relationship feels kinda one-sided now.
“ ’What the fuck is going on?’
…Satoru who’s now standing by the doorway with his wide eyes, clenched jaw, and fists, and his lovely girlfriend clinging to his arm.”
I hate and love this part at the same time. I hate it cause I don’t know what Satoru was thinking (he didn’t) for bringing his new hoe to his best friend’s flat like that. Is he even aware of how Suguru feels about his relationship with Rie? I guess we have to find out in the next chapter.
I love it cause of Satoru’s scandalous reaction LOL. Boy, I get that you’re allowed to enter your friend’s place as you go but this is still his house. If you walk into something unpleasant on your eyes, that’s on you, babe. And also, I remember an ask about when Suguru and Satoru start arguing, Y/N comes between and stops them and then tells Satoru to back off by saying “Don’t you have a happier place to go to?”. I wonder if you can make a variation of it for this situation. Just a thought, but I’m just so tired of seeing Y/N being backed into the corner. We can’t let all of those developments go to waste. I know she’s still recovering but depends on how this will go, it will be either a massive leap or revert for Y/N as a character. And I hope it will be the former.
ooh👀 another good read from u, bb !! your thoughts on this are really interesting, i really appreciate you for taking the time to analyze each small scene <33 and you're right, it's like he doesn't understand the depth of yn's love for him. there are things that yn did and satoru doesn't have an idea about them :(( as for yn's development, it will definitely play a huge role. it's either she crumbles down at Satoru's sudden appearance or she could keep it up like how she's been doing in the past few weeks. these two can also branch into more possible outcomes and decisions from her !! :>
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lizacstuff · 3 years
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Your thoughts on the first episode of the new season? And can we talk about all those parallels? Also I'm loving the summer vibes!
I'm LIVING for the summer vibes! Doesn't everything feel like a breath of fresh air? I definitely feel like new life has been injected into the series. And that new location is so beautiful, I LOVE IT.
As for the episode, I thought it was masterfully done. You could tell Ayse was back and bringing the perfect mix of comedy, romance and drama. And the sparkle! The show sparkles again. The almost two and half hours flew buy, I was on the edge of my seat, and the performances from Hande and Kerem were amazing. Plus I just adore every moment between Serkan and his new nemesis (aka his secret daughter).
On the sober side, I don't care how jerky Serkan got while battling cancer, or how he may have pushed her away, nothing they've shown us so far even begins to justify Eda not telling him about Kiraz, and it certainly doesn't justify her continuing to lie when he's standing right in front of her making overtures (and her daughter is clearly longing for her father). Obviously, there are still many things we don't know and I'm sure there are many flashbacks to come, and Eda has been though so much, but still...I don't see how they will thread that needle and have Eda come out unscathed.
That being said, with this first episode they executed this story so well and it really does give new life to the series, so I won't dwell on the fact that Eda never would have done this. Never. We just have to move past it, accept that it's a soap opera plot device designed to give us an amazing second season packed with all sorts of amazing scenes and just enjoy every minute while it lasts.
(More under the cut)
I'll get to more on Edser later, as for everyone else... silliness abounds.
First... Erdem cheated on Leyla? WHAT!?!?! With whom? But I guess that was a clean way to explain Leyla leaving.
Engin and Piril, I love that Engin is staying home with their son, and that young actor is a cutie! As for Piril... GRRRRRR... she is still on my shitlist. Last time it was for betraying Eda (and Serkan) by enabling Selin's reign of terror, this time it's by betraying her friend and business partner Serkan! Good grief. If Piril just found out recently at the start of this project I could accept on her holding off because it's not her secret to run off and tell, but what I can't accept is her actively working against Serkan finding out. Even if in this episode she had gently said to Eda... "do you think maybe it's time you told him?" it would be a lot easier to swallow... but nope! She's acting like it would be the end of the world if Serkan found out. I sincerely hope that when everyone finds out and Engin finds out Piril knew, it causes problems between them. She deserves that.
She remains my second least favorite character. Who was my least favorite character this episode? Oh you know! Awful Ayfer is back! We got a reprieve from her in the last arc, but she's back to her annoying, controlling, Serkan-hating ways. Eda is a mother, an international award-winning landscape architect and business owner and she still has to lie to Ayfer because she's such a pain-in-the-ass? Watching her is going to be a trial.
Even though it feels like both Aydan and Ayfer were reset to zero character development, and Aydan has done worse (keeping the fact that Serkan was alive from Eda) I still find her a much easier character to take. Probably because Neslihan is a much better comedic actress, so she's a lot more entertaining. But... Aydan's been with Kemal for 5 years and hasn't told Serkan? WHY? I can't believe Kemal didn't give her an ultimatum years ago. I was loving, however, Serkan being in the way for both Aydan/Kemal and Engin/Piril. GOOD. Those people caused problems for him at one point or another or were in the way, it was nice to see him return the favor. I like Kemal and am still hoping they'll do a parallel "not knowing your father thing" and reveal he's Serkan's bio dad while Serkan is finding out he had a child he never knew about.
Melo and Seyfi were their awesome supportive, funny selves. It was great to see both of them, I'm so glad they stayed.
As for the new characters, love the kids. The new hotel manager is apparently ditzy and starstruck over Serkan, and I don't really understand how she's going to be integrated into the cast, but I love that she was used as a device to show us that Serkan has zero interest in any woman who is not Eda Yildiz. Eda's assistant seems like he'll be a fine side character. As for Burak, he seems harmless, obviously he has feeling for Eda that she does not reciprocate (fuck off Ayfer trying to push her on him) but hopefully they don't make him a psycho like Deniz. I did think he was a bit out of line to Serkan. Isn't that his cafe? And a customer has his glass spilled by a child in his care, and he insults him instead of apologizing? That is the worst customer service I've ever seen! He's a character that could wear on me quickly, we shall see. Kiraz can't help but be sassy because of genetics, but some of the adults in her life seem to be modeling rude behavior!
Now on to Eda and Serkan, I can't say enough about Hande and Kerem's acting in this episode. Phenomenal! They were both brilliant. Plus both are doing a great job working off of Maya (especially Kerem) those scenes were priceless. I don't often enjoy kids on shows, but so far I'm loving this dynamic.
As for Edser, while we don't know everything yet it feels like Serkan got to a point where he couldn't stand to see Eda in pain and putting her life on hold, he outright mentioned that she might not have graduated if they'd stayed together, and so that was part of the reason he reverted to his robot self and pushed her away. I'm going to guess she tried and tried and he was just unyielding. Saying he didn't want to get married or have kids in the harshest way possible. Perhaps even she went to tell him that she was pregnant and he went off on not wanting kids before she could even tell him. Time will tell.
At this juncture, my best guess is Eda's fear is rooted in rejection. It can't be that she thinks Serkan is a terrible person that doesn't deserve to know his child, or would be detrimental to Kiraz. However, she knows what it feels like to be rejected by Serkan, I'm sure she was beyond devastated, so I'm guessing now she's bent on protecting her daughter from feeling that same rejection. She fears if he found out, but wanted nothing to do with her, it would feel worse than him not knowing. She's not thinking clearly and perhaps it hasn't even occurred to her that the man she fell in love with is still under there and that man is fully capable of opening his heart wide to their child.
The fact that this child, a stranger to him, already has him wrapped around her little finger to the tune of being late to meetings while he waits for her to pick berries, speaks volumes.
The lies that Eda is telling Kiraz though... there is a fairy tale poetry to Eda saying her father is among the stars... but there was no way this would ever end well. Such a bad idea. Eda.... has made mistakes.
As for Eda and Serkan, their reunion was so bitter sweet. The way Serkan was sure he was hallucinating her and couldn't believe she was real, speaks to the fact that his thinking he saw her that morning was not an anomaly. It must happen all the time. She's never left his thoughts in 5 years. Especially since Engin makes it clear that women throw themselves at Serkan all the time, and he never bites. That's a lot of years celebrate, pining after a love he lost through his own actions. Though it's not that surprising that he didn't pursue other women, as he's never been a character who was motivated by sex. Which makes it hilarious that during his presentation that's where his mind was at, remembering their intimate times together. Serkan Bolat is an Edasexual.
Serkan seemed to want to brush past what happened between them, how they ended, but from Eda's pain, it's clear it was gut-wrenching and tragic and that's something he's going to need to recon with in the coming episodes. But how refreshing that they actually talked! That Eda actually expressed her pain to him! Wowza, that's a change from recent episodes when they didn't even have a proper conversation after he got his memory back.
The flashback scenes were a combination of pure brilliance and pain. Just rip out my heart why don't you. Serkan's angry reactions seem very believable for someone suffering what he was going through. I think it's typical to lash out at the person closest to you. And their fear and pain, their commitment to getting him better and seeing it through... those scenes were made all the more heartbreaking knowing that they didn't make it out the other side intact.
On a lighter note, I loved how even despite their intention and best efforts to remain closed off to one another, and away from one another, they couldn't. Physically, Serkan couldn't stay away, and every time Eda was in his presence you saw her resolve slip and her start to feel that old pull towards him. The fact that Eda thinks there's any way to keep this secret and get rid of him, she must just be in full panic mode and not thinking clearly. She's never going to shake him.
Thank goodness Serkan came back and actually issued a sincere apology for what he said at coffee. He definitely owed her one, but what was extraordinary is that it showed that the growth he went through when they were together didn't regress. He was able to apologize and explain that he was angry and hurt and that's why it happened. If you remember from the first time around, saying sorry was something he was just unable to do, so this felt big to me. He's not the same robot Bolat, she left an indelible mark on him.
As for him making her present her proposal, it's really not out-of-line for the professional relationship, however, we all know he did it just so he had an excuse to be around her. That man will take any excuse, plus he likes to get a rise out of her.
The dinner scene was breathtaking. How beautiful and achingly romantic was that setting? Wowza. And what a roller coaster of emotion those scenes were. It was great to watch them talk and laugh. Who didn't swoon when he deveined her shrimp and when she gave him fries? But we had to know it wouldn't last. Eda's speech had me breathless. Serkan had that coming, it hurt but it had to happen. What a relief to see them get things out in the open. Now I hope we get to see them really talk about what happened and why. Explain yourself Serkan!
As for the next episode, I was so hopeful that the Kiraz secret would be out after the final scene, but the first fragman makes it look like that's not going to happen, at least not at the start of the episode. My fear is that if Eda outright lies to him that just makes everything worse. The longer she keeps it from him, when they're back in each other's orbits and it's clear he's not running away, it makes her more and more at fault.
In any case, it looks like we're in for some fabulous scene so I look forward to the second episode!
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starlocked01 · 4 years
Text
Eye to Eye
AO3
Masterpost- Previous- Next
Summary: Patton was born with brown eyes and figured he never had a soulmate to begin with. All it took was one theater production to prove him wrong.
Content Warning: Alcohol use
Day 17 PattonxVirgilxRoman- Everyone is born with dichromatic eyes. When you meet eyes with your Soulmate, your eye reverts to its natural color instead of the color of your soulmate’s eyes.
Patton was born with brown eyes. His mother cried over him most nights, studied those eyes looking for any hint of a difference in shade. When he was older, others pitied him for having brown eyes his whole life. "It must be so hard," they whispered behind his back with meaningful glances.
Patton learned to not make eye contact with anyone, and even when he was old enough to pretend he'd met his soulmate already, he still found it hard to look others in the eye.
Virgil was born with one brown eye and one blue eye. This was not out of the ordinary. Bullies found other reasons to single him out and tear him down. He grew out his bangs and dyed his life black in protest of their cruelty. No soulmate was worth the pain of being seen, so he didn't make eye contact with others often. Soon the whispers turned from his clothing to how sad it was he still hadn't found his soulmate. He learned to ignore the gossip.
Roman was born with one brown eye and one blue eye. He was excited to figure out which one was his natural eye color and which one belonged to his soulmate. He eagerly greeted everyone with a smile and met their gaze with confidence, and yet nothing changed. He had faith he would meet his soulmate someday and continued to tackle life with all of his energy.
Patton still wasn't sure how Janus had roped him into assistant directing the community theater production but there he was taking notes on auditions while Janus directed the hopeful actors. Roman Prince sure was giving it everything he could, but Patton was uncomfortable with how often the actor tried to make eye contact across the empty auditorium. Yeah, there weren't many people to focus on but it was unnerving for him.
Of course, Janus was impressed and had Patton star the man's name for the callback. Lovely.
After the auditions, actors and crew were milling around the stage and auditorium, not in a hurry to go anywhere. Patton wished they would leave because he wanted to go home and Janus had tasked him with locking up.
"Hey, Patton?" one of the techies tapped his shoulder. Patton put on a fake smile and turned around.
"Yeah, what can I do for you?" he asked sweetly.
"Some of us were planning on going out for a round of drinks to celebrate the start of the show. Would you like to come along? I'm already Designated Driver," the man barely looked up. Patton found that pretty sweet.
"Virgil, right? Yeah, I'll come along; I just have to lock up the theater. Let me clear this place out first," Patton grinned and stepped to the middle of the stage, projecting his voice to thank everyone for coming and to watch for callback and casting announcements. Most people got the hint and left and Patton gently asked the stragglers to move along.
"Now I'm not one to drink much," Patton was already on his second beer, "but you all are gonna be so fun to work with!"
Virgil snickered. The assistant director was incredibly cute when he wasn't avoiding human interaction. Not that Virgil had any right to critique anyone else's introvertedness, but he was very glad Remy had pushed him to ask Patton along. He felt warm inside just spending time with the man.
"Hey, Pat, who do you think is gonna get the lead?" Virgil probed.
"I dunno, that's what callbacks are for, Virgie," Patton giggled. He was playing up the effects of inebriation just a bit to get on the crew's good sides and it seemed to be working. Especially with Virgil.
Patton felt relaxed for maybe the first time in months. He was actually looking forward to working with everyone on this show. He glanced up at Virgil with a grin and the two locked eyes for a moment.
Something in the back of his head clicked, like flipping a light switch. Patton watched as Virgil’s blue eye swirled and turned brown. The look on Virgil’s face transformed from slightly put out by being the sober person in the bar to utterly confused.
"Patton, your eye…" Virgil couldn't really believe what he was seeing. Patton had brown eyes and he'd assumed that meant Patton had met his soulmate already. Why was one eye now blue?
Patton looked confused and pulled out his phone. He was startled to see the dichromatic eyes staring back at him from his camera. He never had a blue eye, why was his eye blue?
"Virgil, your eyes are both brown now… but mine are different colors? They've never been different before," Patton marveled at his eyes and Virgil pulled out his own phone to check his eyes.
"Woah… cool."
Patton put down his phone to grin at his soulmate. The other brown eye was apparently a mystery he could solve later.
Callbacks were a week later and Roman was flustered beyond belief. He'd made sure to clear his schedule well in advance because there was no way he wasn't going to get the best part he could. He practiced in a mirror and his smile only cracked once, seeing his different colored eyes. He loved his job and he loved theater; he did everything he could to lead a fulfilling life, and yet he had not met his soulmate yet. It was frustrating. They had to be out there somewhere.
The callback went smoothly and Janus posted the cast list the next night. Roman was ecstatic to get the part he wanted. Virgil prepared for the rehearsal process and Patton said a prayer that things wouldn't crash and burn.
Patton now had much more of a reason to look forward to the show as he would be seeing Virgil pretty often before and after rehearsals. Janus had even figured out the two were soulmates and often asked Patton to be the one to parlay with the tech crew.
Sometimes during rehearsals, Patton would watch the actors from the tech booth as Virgil used the blocking process to plan the lighting plot.
Virgil blushed under his foundation anytime he caught Patton watching him work. Rehearsals took too much time to plan dates but they definitely made the most of the time before rehearsal started and after Janus had dismissed everyone to get to know one another.
One night, a few weeks out from performance week, Roman suggested a cast party to celebrate the director. The whispers were kept backstage to preserve the surprise for Janus.
"Ah, Patton?" Patton turned at the sound of the actor's voice.
"How can I help you, Roman?"
"Do you know about the party?" Roman glanced around as he was asking. The theater was mostly cleared out.
"Yeah, Virgil told me about it. Tomorrow after rehearsal right?" Patton grinned, still busy trying to repair a prop.
"Yes! We need you to distract Janus while we set up, keep him from leaving, you know?" Roman grinned.
"No problem, Kiddo!" Patton looked up with a grin and the two made eye contact.
Just like with Virgil, Patton watched as Roman’s blue eye swirled and turned brown. He felt the switch in the back of his head and figured his brown eye must have turned blue.
Roman gasped, "Patton, I- your eyes! They're beautiful!"
Patton marveled, "thank you Roman. How is this the first time we've made eye contact? We've seen each other every day for a month now," he reached over and gently rested a hand on Roman’s cheek.
"Hey, is he bothering you, Pat?" Virgil emerged from the shadows of backstage with a scowl on his face, having just finished his nightly clean up check.
"No," both Patton and Roman replied at once. Patton grinned over to Virgil and Virgil’s breath caught in his throat seeing two blue eyes.
Roman grinned and reached out to take Virgil’s hand, "I hope you don't mind sharing him."
"I don't have much of a choice," Virgil smirked. He took a deep breath and met Roman’s gaze. Neither of their eyes changed visibly but both felt the same sensation they had when they met eyes with Patton.
"Well, who knew? Two soulmates each," Roman sighed happily, "and I found them at the same time!"
"We would have never found each other without Patton," Virgil pointed out, "his blue eyes were crucial."
"All eye know is that I'm so happy! I grew up thinking I didn't even have one soulmate, much less two. I love you guys- I hope it's not too much to say that already," Patton could feel himself tearing up.
"Well, this definitely isn't normal but I think we'll make it work," Virgil grinned as Roman gave them each a hug.
The party and the performances went well with most things running smoothly each night. Roman and Virgil spent the cast party after the last performance trying to drink each other under the table while Patton laughed and joked around with them and the rest of the cast and crew.
It was much easier to plan dates once the show was over and Patton couldn't be any happier. His soulmates' brown eyes never failed to light up his smile. He never thought he'd love brown eyes so much.
Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020
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thejosh1980 · 4 years
Text
Don't you know that you're toxic?
I was in a toxic relationship...
In fact I have been in a few... But the last one is the one I can still remember in some detail...
The first few, well they were immature drunk and disorderly scenarios. They are not important in this story, other than you should be aware I was pretty repetitive towards my approach to relationships back then.
The story I would like tell is about the 7 year old relationship that ended in March 2019.
This particular relationship had the biggest effect on me, my well being, and my happiness. And even though I married an amazing woman earlier this year, that last relationship is still a reminder of the baggage I have held onto since my first relationship.
It's time I unloaded that baggage and shed my skin.... Even if it's just a little bit... You know, small steps...
So, lets call my ex “Grumpy”...
In fact that's a name an American girlfriend of a drummer of a band we were watching called her once in Germany, literally minutes after meeting her. I should have seen that red flag even back then...
Look, Grumpy isn't a bad person, deep down I think she means well... But she just hasn't been able to get past her past... She wont let go of any stubborn insecurities, learn new coping mechanisms, and she wont forgive herself, or you for that matter... At least that's what I've experienced with her.
It's like whenever things don't go her way, whenever she's frustrated or doesn't know how to cope, she'd revert back to a 14 year old girl, which is when she had troubles with her Mum.
I mean honestly, who didn't have troubled teenage years??
I'm not saying she doesn't have a right to feel pain about some significant event or trauma, but she surely can't hold it over my head and expect me to hang around, forever...
During our relationship, I explained to her, that when I went into therapy (which at the beginning she thankfully helped me do) I had no idea what to expect. But I knew I couldn't continue the way I was and expect a happy outcome.
It took a long time, but I processed many of the issues and events of my past, which in turn helped my current situation and had a positive effect on my future. I learned new ways on how to cope with current problems, insecurities and learn to take responsibility for my actions and choices in life...
I forgave my Dad for not being a good father. I understand, he just didn't know better and chose not to learn how later in life... It's no excuse but I find some comfort in knowing I wasn't the problem. These days, I can be comfortable in his presence, no longer hoping for the Dad I've always needed, but enjoy his company for what it is...
I forgave my sister for her misgivings. She's a tough cookie, and very jealous of me. I think she's very jealous of my relationship with Mum, but my sister hasn't taken responsibility for her actions, and therefore it will be a long road before I can trust her, but I'm totally OK with that. She has her problems, and they are not mine to take responsibility for, anymore.
My grandparents on both sides were hard work over the years. I thought it was my fault too! But really it was their lack of empathy and understanding that created an atmosphere of negativity. They had every opportunity to be a good example to an impressionable young me. Luckily I learned to forgive them, even if I didn't actually say that to them while they were still alive. I forgave them and myself for contributing to the escalation, rather than finding resolution.
Grumpy knew I did this (and more) in therapy, and refused to consider it.
Now in all fairness, I originally refused to entertain the idea of counseling too, as I had a negative experience in my younger days (just like Grumpy), but when I reached my first breakdown around 2014 in a foreign country, I knew I needed help and I asked...
You know, I know she's still hurting over her past...
How can I tell?
Because it's been 18 months since I broke up with her, and she continues to create drama, instead of “adulting” and talking to me about it.
She's had every opportunity to deal with these post break up problems we all have had to go through like an adult (you know, splitting up the household belongings etc), without fail each time she has deflected, ignored, created more drama, lied or done something else that shows me, she has not recognized her part in our story.
Let's face it, it takes 2 to tango...
I've come to realize she treated me the way she did during our relationship, because she took me for granted. She thought I'd never have the courage or strength to actually leave her. I sure proved her wrong, didn't I!!!
We started our relationship drunk, and continued like that for 2 or so years. Grumpy and I could drink a lot, and did... We both were a bit rounder then too! We were never fully honest with each other or ourselves. I would say, we probably should have just been a short term fling, because we both weren't ready for long term, but we dived in anyhow...
That journey got me here, and that's totally fine. I have no regrets...
In case you didn't know, I wasn't a very strong person back then. I had little self esteem, and little self worth. So it was easy for both of us to “beat on” each other verbally and not resolve any issues. That's easy to do when someone just can't listen without demeaning you, without taking your feelings and smashing them against the wall... I was always ALWAYS in trouble. She was too sometimes back then... We both were in trouble...
As time went on with my therapy I processed a lot of things, and became ready for long term... I also knew I wanted to move back home, down under, eventually. That would be a hard decision, with or without Grumpy. I just couldn't imagine piling on more stress on top of stress with that relationship. I came to realize there was no future there unless something changed. We had to listen to each other, we had to trust each other, we had to respect each other.
I know I am not perfect, but surely if I can forgive her for things, she could step my way a little... Couldn't she? Didn't she have the power to learn to forgive? I mean really forgive someone and love them for all their faults? Didn't she have the power to grow? Unfortunately she didn't... I knew she didn't process anything because she was bringing up stuff from 2 or 3 or 6 years ago...
When I sobered up and seriously got into therapy, I had no idea what road it would take me down... But after talking about all my family issues, social anxiety issues and depression, the last thing was Grumpy. It took almost 5 years to get to the point where I acknowledged I was unhappy, I realized I didn't trust her and I couldn't see a future with her...
I just couldn't talk to her anymore. We just didn't trust each other anymore... That's the point...
The day we broke up, I had written her a letter, and I read her this letter. I read out a letter I had spent weeks writing making sure my adult words were being used (because without the letter I knew I'd revert to something less mature and less communicative). I clearly stated after trying many times, trying for years to correct our problems, I had come to realize we couldn't go forward. I decided we would break up to save each other from unnecessary pain. I couldn't see any steps going in the right direction in our relationship anymore...
I loved her, but it just wasn't working out, and didn't show any signs of improving.
Her first words were “I knew it” with tears rolling down her face...
I didn't want to do it, but I made a choice... Based on the past, for the present, to better my future.
Honestly I don't know if she wanted to recognize any of those times I tried to talk to her. She didn't want to see the signs. When she got frustrated and yelled at me, and I sat quietly listened and did my best not to raise my voice back. When I tried to talk sense to her she'd react like I was talking crazy.
Maybe she was scared? After all, change is a scary thing.
I changed a lot in those years since I started therapy and stopped drinking, always hoping Grumpy would come my way a little... For several years I was a huge contributing factor to our fights, but as time went on and I learned and grew, I started to de-escalate those fights. (Which generally made things worse!).
Apparently she didn't get the memo...
And she continues to blame me for that mistrust, because that's the way it goes when you don't take responsibility for your actions... It's always someone else's fault... The world owes me...
Even though she's been in a committed relationship since the beginning of 2020, she still hasn't let go of any anger, hurt, or resentment towards me. Her actions clearly show she hasn't processed our relationship, start, middle, or end, and would prefer to block me or stop all communication with me, before dealing with herself. She'd prefer to tell everyone else how bad I was, what I owed her, what I did to her, than think about her actions and how they affected our relationship.
It's like history repeating itself... And I am finding freedom in the fact I am no longer a character in her story.
I'm quite sure she'll keep the narrative within her circle of friends to make her look good, and me bad. But I like my narrative more (who wouldn't?), I feel we both were a mess... We were having a negative affect on each other. How or why, isn't as important as learning that communication, trust, forgiveness and respect are the things that were missing...
In fact, I think she dislikes anyone who has shown personal growth... It scares her... I think she's comfortable in her denial... She blames her Mum or her grandma... She blames me... Not once had I ever heard in all her years of coming home from work, “Oh it was me...”, “I did something wrong...” or “I messed up, I better say sorry...”
So how could I stay with someone who didn't take any responsibility?? How can I love someone who doesn't say “sorry”?
I was heart broken during the time leading up to reading Grumpy that letter...
I went back and forth in my head, could I see a future??? But in the end I couldn't... The one thing I realize, that is so important in my relationships, is good ol' communication. We lost that, when we lost the trust... It all turned toxic... Manipulative.... Twisted...
I wish her all the happiness the world throws at her.
We all deserve happiness... But Grumpy, sometimes you gotta work at it...
I could spend my time blaming her for so much of it but in the end, it was down to me. I am the one master of my fate... Just as she is... Then and now...
Thanks for reading,
Josh
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writes-in-skies · 4 years
Text
That time you said you despise me
Prequel to That day at the pond
One year ago at Von Haunt Museum….
"Relax your strokes. Focus on the direction of the ripple," said Madam Juliette, the art instructor. 
Astoria nodded and obeyed her instructions using the paintbrush in her hand. What stood in front of her was a fountain garden of the historic Von Haunt Museum. That day she attended a painting class while her Great Aunt Lorraine had tea at the parlour with some old friends. 
She dared to glance over at her neighbour's work in progress and realised she would never be as talented. For a moment she felt embarrassed being there. To be fair, painting was never her strongest suit. She always had trouble controlling her brush and the colours don't seem to be the right one. Astoria had always preferred sketching as she always knew how to control her pencil properly. 
Astoria heard some distant voices from where the class was held. The Von Haunt Museum was holding a private tour for new donors that day. She had expected guests to pass by. She felt even more embarrassed over the idea of strangers comparing her skills over her peers. She wished the class would be over. 
The voices became a ruckus as it approached closer to the open class. Astoria spared a glance over the group coming their way. She recognised the two men leading a group of females by their shoulders and hips. Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy. She knew of the two in Hogwarts and they were friends with her sister. Well, Blaise was a close friend to Daphne. Draco was more of an acquaintance. 
Lately, she has been seeing the both of them at high society parties. Usually with drinks in their hands and dates in arms just lounging around without a care. Great Aunt Lorraine criticised their behaviour greatly, commenting on how inappropriate they are as Pureblood men. She especially had disdain towards Draco Malfoy.
Astoria was curious about Draco. The last she saw him was at Diagon Alley just before her final year in Hogwarts. He was with his mother in hand strolling past the stores, trying to ignore the whispers of passer-bys. She felt sorry for Narcissa and Draco who had to pay for Lucius' involvement in the war. But it is not as if Draco was entirely innocent as well, he had that scar on his arm to prove it. However, when she saw him at the time, he seemed to be a shell of what he once was. But now, he seemed like a changed man. He was not the same rude boy in Hogwarts who demanded attention, or the boy who was afraid of everything and everyone. The last thing she heard about Draco Malfoy was that he is attending medical school. She wondered what triggered him to do so, or if he always wanted to do that.
She realised she had been staring at the group when Draco made eye contact with her. She averted her gaze and tried to focus back on her unsalvaged painting. 
"Hey, Little Greengrass," greeted Blaise. Oh how Astoria despised the nickname. Usually people call her that because they couldn't recall her name or just wanted to see her mad. "I didn't know you would be here."
"Hi," Astoria responded to both men shyly. "I attend classes here while my Great Aunt Lorraine catches up with her old friends. Are you the new donors for the Von Haunt Museum?" 
"My mother is on the board of directors. Draco, however, just donated under the Malfoy name," Blaise answered, patting his friend encouragingly. 
"I see. That was very generous of you," smiled Astoria. 
"Nice painting," Draco said suddenly. 
Astoria turned to him, suddenly blushing, "Thank you. It is not done yet." 
"Oh," Draco responded lamely and they fell in silence. 
"Well, I am going to talk to that beautiful girl back there. I suggest you walk around the gardens a little bit. I'll catch you later, my friend," Blaise decided before running off without giving Draco a chance to protest. 
Astoria then heard Draco clearing his throat before speaking, "Your name is Astoria Greengrass, right?" he asked casually, with his hands in his pockets. 
Astoria nodded in response and tried to revert her attention back to her painting. Much to her dismay, Draco remained where he was standing and watched her at work. "That really is a nice painting," he spoke.
"You don't have to be nice to me," she sighed. 
"You're right, I don't have to," shrugged Draco as he continued staring at her work. "I have always preferred realism art compared to contemporary."
"And what do you know about art, Mr. Malfoy?" Astoria amused him.
"Maybe I know more than you think," he answered. "I don't just give money away to just any charity you know."
"Sure, you just give it to any organisation in hopes they don't spit in your face," she said. 
To her surprise, Draco did not look insulted one bit. Instead he chuckled and walked around her while taking a flask out of his pocket. He drank the flask in her opposite direction and looked back to see her stoned cold expression. 
"Sorry, you wanted some?" He asked. 
"No thanks. I don't drink," she replied, looking away. 
"That's a sentence I never heard of before," he chuckled.
"Of course you don't. Not with the people you choose to hang out with," Astoria retorted. "Are you sure your day drinking would not affect your studies at Durant?" 
Draco could not hold a smirk, "Have you been keeping track of me, Astoria? I'm flattered."
Astoria sent him a disgusted look, "Don't be. In fact, I despise you," she said frostily. 
"But you don't even know me," He fought back defensively. 
"I know enough there is to know," she replied. 
For some reason Draco still stuck around even after her cold exchange. He kept his flask back in his coat and just stood around her as if waiting for a conversation to start again. Thankfully, the session had ended and Astoria waved her wand to pack her belongings neatly. Before she could grab her packed belongings, Draco lifted the handle of her art tool box. 
"I got this," Astoria said to him, trying to take her belongings back from Draco only for him to move it from her.
"No, please. Let me. Consider this a peace offering for my behaviour," Draco replied. 
Astoria took a deep breath and puffed her chest. She was used to guys trying to be nice to her and acting all chivalry. It usually comes with strings attached. But she could not do anything about it in public. She did not want to embarrass herself or her family name. She decided to lead him to where her aunt was. Great Aunt Lorraine would certainly chase him away in no time.
"Very well," she said and began walking to the parlour to meet with her aunt.
"So what brings you here in Monaco? Greece isn't exciting enough for you?" Draco asked politely, trying to make conversation. 
"I enrolled into Lourvette Institute of Arts. I'm studying magical art history. Great Aunt Lorraine invited me to stay with her while I pursue my studies and I would be her companion," Astoria explained. 
"That explains why both of you are attached at the hip during parties," commented Draco.
"Have you been keeping track of me? I'm flattered," she bemused him. 
"You're not hard to spot in a group full of insufferable snobs," stated Draco.
Astoria rolled her eyes, "You're a snob for calling them a snob. Besides, if they are insufferable, why do you come to those parties?" 
"Why do you think? I did it to appease my parents for leaving the nest. My mother thought that I should mingle in high society as much as I can." 
"My parents expect me to do the same," Astoria shared. "If they had it their way, they would have had me married off by now. But I just needed to get away from all of that. You must be glad to get away from your parents as well."
To her surprise, Draco looked perplexed at her statement. He looked as if he was trying to figure out if it was true as well. "In all honesty, it is weird being on my own. I finally got the freedom I wanted and I feel lost." 
"I thought you were studying to be a healer?" 
"I plan on taking the pharmaceutical route. I'm better at potions anyways and I actually like it," he corrected her. 
"Is that what you wanted to do since you were little?" 
"Who knows…" he trailed. 
Astoria stopped on her tracks when they were reaching the parlour. "I got it from here, really. You don't want to deal with my aunt especially when you're not sober," she told him. 
Draco resigned to hand her back her materials. "I understand. See you around, Astoria."
"Why do you call me that?" She asked him. 
"Isn't that your name? I may be a little drunk but I certainly remember the blonde Greengrass being Daphne," mused Draco. 
"Everyone calls me Little Greengrass like Blaise just did. You used to do it all the time when we were younger," she pointed out. 
Draco shrugged easily, "I need to learn not to slur my words with other people. Saying people's name no matter how illiterate they sound keeps me focused I guess."
Astoria squinted her eyes, not believing every word he just said "Yeah, right. Whatever. I don't care. Goodbye, Draco." 
"Goodbye, Astoria."
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lesbianlovelanguage · 4 years
Text
The Soul Knows Best
Hey Y’all! This is 1/4 of the prompts the ever amazing @eraseyourbookofstories provided for me. I hope it’s okay that it’s basically a rewrite of the bathroom scene, I just love the intimate chemistry of the moment here’s to hoping the duffer bros don’t fuck it up in s4
Prompt: “Soulmates don’t have to be romantic. Sometimes your soul resonates with a friend.” for Robin and Steve
--
Steve was happy that he hadn’t skipped health for once in his life. Go figure it was when he was sat in the fucking mall bathroom, on the run from evil Russians, the taste of vomit on his tongue and the worst hangover ever looming in his future. 
He was happy because if he hadn’t been present for one particular lesson, his entire being would have been crushed in that shitty tiled bathroom, but rather than his soul shriveling up, he instead heard his health teacher’s voice ring.
“Soulmates don’t have to be romantic. Sometimes your soul resonates with a friend.” 
And that’s exactly what had happened. 
It was kind of crazy, and blurred in a drug and pain induced haze, but being tied to his coworker in a secret underground Russian laboratory had seemed to be one of the best moments. They never would have found out they were soulmates, never had a reason to touch until they were back to back and bleeding. But there they were, sprawled out in different bathroom stalls with matching ice cream cones of all fucking things on their left wrists. He had been so elated when he had sobered up enough to realize what the tattoo meant, that he wouldn’t be alone anymore, someone who would understand him, and then he slid under the stall and saw Robin’s face. She looked terrified and confused. Her voice was soft when he showed her the mark.
“This floor is disgusting.”
“Well, I already have a bunch of puke and blood on my shirt, so…” He responded, equally as soft. He was thrown by her voice, but determined to follow through. Maybe she was nervous that he would revert back to the King Steve personna that had been so dismissive of her in high school, but he wasn’t like that anymore. Had the scars to prove it, and would spill all of his secrets to show her that he meant it. They were soulmates after all. But she only chuckled lightly at his comment, and wouldn’t meet his eyes. Silence reigned for a few seconds before he couldn’t handle it anymore.
“What do you think?” 
“About?” She finally looked at him, sadness in her blue eyes.
“The mark?” 
“It’s pretty. Kind of a bummer that we’re branded with Scoops forever.”
“I mean yeah, but they’re kind of cool, right? I mean we’re soulmates, Rob.” He couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice at the word, but he also couldn’t help but notice how her entire body seemed to shut down. 
“I think it’s a mistake,” she said, still holding on to the soft tone. Steve bristled at the implication that he was a mistake.
“It’s not a mistake. These things don’t just happen, I mean,” he huffed, unable to finish his thought. 
“It is. Look, this isn’t right, and you don’t even know me. If you did, like really know me? I don’t think you’d even want to be my friend, let alone my fucking soulmate.” She couldn’t look at him anymore, soft voice gone cold and clinical as she talked about herself.
“Well, that’s not true. No way is that true.” Steve insisted, moving into her line of sight. Was she really still that obsessed with the Steve “The Hair” Harrington reputation. Hadn’t he already proved he was more than that?
“Listen. Steve. It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you. But I am not like your other friends. I’m not like Nancy Wheeler.” She snapped the last sentence, and it solidified in Steve’s mind that it really was about his reputation. 
“Robin, that’s exactly why we’re soulmates. Because you’re not Nancy Wheeler, or Tommy, or any of those other bullshit people. With you I can just be Steve, just be myself.” But she just shook her head.
“Do you remember what I said- about Miss Click’s class? About me being jealous… obsessed?” 
“Yeah.” He said, confused about why she’s bringing up Miss Click and Tammy Thompson now. 
“It wasn’t because I had a crush on you. It was because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.” 
“Miss Click?” Why did she matter, why did she have an impact on the fact that Steve and Robin were soulmates?
“No, Tammy Thompson. I wanted her to look at me, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair, and I remember the day she ‘accidently’ touched your hand. She was so crushed when you weren’t soulmates and I didn’t understand because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor and you would ask stupid questions and, and you were a douchebag.” Steve was starting to feel the floor slip away again, like the world was still spinning, except this time there were no drugs he could vomit out of his system. But Robin continued, oblivious or uncaring to his heartbreak.
“And you didn’t even like her, and I would just go home and scream into my pillow because I couldn’t compete with a douchebag.”
“But… Tammy Thompson is a girl?” Steve felt like he had lost the plot, too distracted. He must have missed something. When all the question got was a whispered Steve, it suddenly clicked, and he heard his health teacher’s voice louder than Robin’s.
“Soulmates don’t have to be romantic. Sometimes your soul resonates with a friend.” 
“Oh,” was all he could think to say.
“Oh.” She mimicked back at him.
“Holy shit.” He sat back, feeling the floor solidify again. It wasn’t his reputation, or the fact that Robin thought he was bullshit that made her call him a mistake. While he was adjusting his world view, accepting the idea of a platonic soulmate and seeing that it fit perfectly into who he was trying to be, apparently Robin had been fighting back anxieties he couldn’t even comprehend, because she tapped him with her converse.
“Steve, you OD over there?” 
“No, just, uh. Just thinking.” Clearly, it was the wrong thing to say because she just looked away again, and began playing with a lock of hair. She murmured something too inaudible to catch, so he continued, trying to placate her without being overbearing.
“I mean, yeah. Tammy Thompson? She’s cute and all, but she’s a total dud.” This seemed to knock the insecurities out of her though, as she raced to defend her crush. They bickered playfully, Steve continuing to try and make Robin laugh, until Dustin and Erica burst in, practically panting. 
After that, it was a blur of the usual monsters and mayhem, but Steve made sure to keep Robin by his side through it all. It wasn’t until after they were all being treated by first-responders and interviewed by secret American spies that he had a moment alone with her again. 
“You know, we’re all good right?” He said, wanting to make sure the insecurities didn’t come back now that adrenaline had pushed the drugs out of both of their systems. He really couldn’t bear to lose Robin, not after everything that had happened and having to face the fact that Nancy was well and truly shaking it up with Byers.
“Yeah, dingus. I think we’re gonna be just fine, you know. Shared trauma and all that.” She winked at him conspirataly, having heard Nancy say something along the same lines once. Steve gave a small smile, and when Robin insisted on staying at his house that night for a “Non-Monster Related Hang Out” he couldn’t say no.
--
tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @trashmouth-hargrove @catharrington (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)
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chickensarentcheap · 4 years
Text
Sanctuary - Chapter 10
 Warnings: parent/child angst and strife. Some language.
We also finally get info on how the hell Tyler and Esme ended up in Dhaka together ;)
Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @valkyrie-of-the-light, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y
If it isn’t too much trouble, just leave a comment or even send me a message! I love hearing from you guys!!
@valkyrie-of-the-light  we are getting closer to finding out who the stranger is ;)
“In all fairness,” Esme says with a yawn, as she lays in the middle of their rumpled bed. “I don’t think Ovi meant to cause problems.”
It’s seven thirty in the morning and the house remains in peaceful slumber; unusual, as all of the kids are usually up and causing chaos at the crack of dawn. The baby is at the breast; suckling sleepily and contently, while Millie is tucked into her side; snoring lightly, a thumb in her mouth. A bad habit she’d managed to break before starting kindergarten but always reverted back to in times of stress.
“He just should have kept his goddamn mouth shut,” Tyler grumbles, as he pulls on a pair of baggy and weathered jeans, doing up the zipper and button before attending to his belt.
“Well she did ask,” his wife attempts to reason, watching him as he dresses, eyes feasting on those broad shoulders and wide back; his skin a canvas for the bulging, rippling muscles, tattoos, scars, and now bright red and brutal looking scratch marks caused by her nails. “She wanted to know why you go away so much. She’s five and curious. Not to mention she misses you like crazy when you’re gone.”
It’s hard on all of them, but it’s especially difficult for the little five-year-old that thinks the sun rises and sets on her father. In her mind there’s nothing he can’t do. No promise big or small that can’t keep or no problem he can’t fix. And when he’s gone she’s heartbroken; refusing to sleep in her own bed and choosing to stay with her mother, sleeping on his pillow, wanting to cuddle up to one of his dirty shirts so she can smell him. When he calls or video chats, she’s the first and the last he talks to. Then spends hours in tears after he disconnects.
“It’s way too early for a guilt trip,” he says, and pulls a simple white t-shirt over his head.
“That’s not what I was doing and you know it. When have I ever guilt tripped you over making the decision you did? And I mean an intentional guilt trip.”
It would have been so easy for her to do. He knows that. He’d made the decision without her and had even talked to Nik about getting back into the game before he mentioned it to his own wife. It should have been talked about. She should have at least had a chance to argue her side against it instead of just feeling as if her hands were tied and her opinion or her fears and worries didn’t matter.  In many ways he still struggles to find a balance between the way he was before and his role as a husband and a father. He’d spent years only worrying about himself (and even that wasn’t done well) and it wasn’t an easy habit to break.
Yet not once has she ever intentionally made him feel guilty for going back on the job. He knew she was pissed. That she still is at times. Disappointed that he just couldn’t walk away and make a clean break from it for the sake of her and their kids. But she still supported him. Never made him feel like a selfish fuck.
Even though he often felt that way about himself.
“At the hospital when you were having the twins,” he says. “You lost your shit on me.”
“I had been in labour for eighteen hours and you’d just gotten back from Croatia on the only flight you could find. And you were covered in dirt and blood and wearing fatigues and you looked like you’d just walked out of a war zone. The doctors and the nurses wondered what the hell had happened to you. Not to mention the epidural wouldn’t take. You can’t take anything seriously I said at that point. I was just pissed at you because I was in bloody agony. And because of your weak as fuck pull out game.”
He smirks at that.
“She asked him, Tyler. She wanted to know why you leave so much and where you go. What was he supposed to say?”
“He could have said anything. He could have made up any kind of bullshit. He didn’t have to tell her that.”
“Didn’t have to tell her what? The truth? Because that’s all he did. And it’s not like he went into all the gory and brutal details. All he told her is that when people need help, you go and help them. You get them away from bad guys. Because that is exactly what you do.”
“But it’s not all I do.”
“She doesn’t need to know that part. She doesn’t need to know how capable you are of hurting people. Of killing people. All she wanted to know is what you do and where you go. Ovi explained the best he could. It was better than lying to her and then her being totally pissed when she’s older and finds out the truth. She thinks you’re a superhero.”
He sighs, sitting at the end of the bed as he straps on his watch. “I’m no hero. Especially not a super one.”
“Oh I don’t know about that,” she stretches out her leg and rubs the tips of her toes against the small of his back. “You’re built like one. Not to mention sexy as hell. Aren’t most superhero’s sexy? So you fit most of the categories.”
He reaches around to grab her foot; massaging softly as he winks at her over his shoulder.
“The people you help think you’re a hero,” she says. “So do their families. So does your daughter. And so do I.”
He doesn’t deserve that kind of praise. At least not in his own mind. While it may be physically easy to inflict pain and even death on those deemed to deserve it, it was difficult…mentally speaking…to take a life. After the adrenaline wore off and you were able to register both what happened and that you were still alive, reality would set in. And he’d be covered in someone else’s blood and God knows what else and he’d think about how he’d just killed someone else’s family member. Someone’s son. Brother. Uncle. Friend. Maybe even someone’s husband and father.
He did what he did out of necessity. Not pride.
He stands, running a hand over his weary face and then raking his fingers through his damp hair. Collecting his wallet and sunglasses of the nightstand on his side of the bed, sliding the former into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Please tell me you’ll be home by the time Ovi’s girlfriend…or whatever the hell she is…gets here. If you abandon me and leave me to deal with this by myself…”
He leans over the bed to kiss her. “If I’m not home in a few hours, just assume your mother somehow managed to kill me and has hidden the body somewhere you’ll never find it.”
“Thank you, for doing this for me. I know it isn’t easy for you.”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You know that.” He kisses her again, a finger hooked under her chin, tilting her face up towards his. “I love you.”  Those words had never come easily to him. Not until he’d met her. Now he says them as often as he can. Just in case.
She smiles. “I love you too. Try not to let her get to you. Easier said than done, I know. But I’m sure she’s going to try to bait you into lashing out. Just so she can paint you as the bad guy.”
“I can handle her,” he assures her, then leans down to drop a kiss on Millie’s head and then the baby’s.
“Call when you get there,” she says as he heads for the door. “Just so I know you got there safe and sound.”
“You’re turning soft on me in your old age,” he teases, running a hand over her hair and giving her one last kiss.
“Maybe I just like knowing you’re okay. I can’t control what goes on thousands of miles away, but I feel like I can when it’s forty-five minutes.”
He’s the same. Always wanting to know if she got somewhere safe and sound. Life was way too short not to remind the people you love just how much you actually do care about them. And sometimes that love comes out in different ways; verbally, gestures of appreciation and affection, making sure they check in so you know they’re okay.
“Check on the boys,” she suggests before he slips out of the room.  
“I will,” he promises, and gives her a wink before stepping out into the hallway.
 ****
His mother in law answers on the third knock; eyes glassy and cheeks flushed.  And he can smell the booze on her when she gives him a stiff and awkward one-armed hug. Even this small gesture of affection is out of character for her; she was more apt to punch him in the throat or kick him in the nuts than give him any sort of hug. It takes him by surprise; brain needing a few minutes to register just what the hell is happening. Slowly and a bit reluctantly bringing his hand up to settle in the middle of her shoulder blades.
“It’s good to see you,” her voice is slightly slurred and she’s a little uneasy on her feet as she lays a hand on his arm, both steadying herself and guiding him towards the hall that leads to the kitchen. “Esme is right. You do smell really good.”
He smirks, toeing off his boots, hoping he doesn’t come across as rude when he gently removes his arm from his grasp and then gestures for her to go first.  Being drunk doesn’t make up for all the things she’s said and done while sober. He doesn’t give a shit about her opinion on him; he’s heard worse from better. But he’s been in her company when she’s tried gaslighting her own daughter and has heard the abuse she’s lumped on Esme for years.  He tries to remind himself that he’s here for his wife. For his kids. When his mother in law had left a voice message on his cell asking him to come to the house for a ‘chat’, he’d been leery about her attentions.
But he’d seen the way Esme’s face had brightened at the thought of them actually burying the hatchet and he didn’t have the heart to let her down.
So here he is. Just shy of ten in the morning. Following behind his already inebriated mother in law. He remembers those days; drunk off his ass by noon hour. Back then it hadn’t mattered; he’d had fuck all to live for and was very close to just putting a bullet in his own head. Now when he thinks back on it, he realizes just how pathetic it was. And he’s determined to never get that far into the booze again.
“Do you want a drink?” she asks, as she motions for him to sit down at the kitchen table. It’s cluttered; days worth of newspapers and unopened bills. The counters are in a similar state; a sink full of unwashed dishes and empty and half empty bottles of liquor and wine littering every available space.
“It’s ten in the morning,” Tyler points out, and he removes his sunglasses from his eyes and his cell phone from his pocket and places both on the table. “Don’t you think it’s a little too early for that?”
She ignores him and moves to pour herself another drink, then starts up the coffee maker.
“Where’s Sarge?”
Everyone calls Esme’s stepfather that. When they’d first met, he’d attempted to call man by his first name and was quickly corrected. He was a good guy, tall and broad with a head full of thick white hair and a handlebar moustache. Posture rigid and proud as if he were still serving in the military.  And other than Esme’s younger sister Lyla, he’d been the only one that had welcomed Tyler into their family with open arms.
“On one of his boy trips to Vegas,” she sighs.  “And we all know what goes on in Vegas.”
Tyler has never been there himself, but according to Esme, it means that her stepdad and the boys go around fucking random women and spending their money on three things: booze, gambling, and strippers.
“We’re having troubles,” she admits.
“Sorry to hear that.”
He’s not really. Far from it. There’s a feeling of vindication that surges through him at the mere thought that the woman who’d been badgering her daughter about her decision to stay in Australia with some ‘random fuck’ (as her mother called him), was now being served a nice dose of karma. That all those times she’s been on Esme’s ass about an unwanted and unplanned first pregnancy and a hasty marriage, were coming back to haunt her.
He wants to ask her how that slice of ‘shut the fuck up pie’ tastes. But he doesn’t. Reminding himself yet again that he’s there for his wife and his kids. To be the bigger person. To make the visits and the holidays at least tolerable.
“Black, no sugar, right?” she inquires, pausing before pouring the fresh brew into a mug.
“Yeah. Thanks,” he manages a small pleasant smile in appreciation and accepts the drink as she slips into the chair across from him.  
The next few minutes pass by excruciating slow; no sound other than the soft hum of the fridge and slight dripping off the kitchen tap. And she nurses her drink while he runs his palm along the side of the porcelain mug, then taps it against the side, wedding band making a soft clinking noise.  
“What am I..” he attempts.
“So I guess…” she speaks at the same time, then laughs. “You go ahead.”
“It’s your home.”
“Visitors first,” she insists.
“I was just going to ask what I’m doing here. I’m normally the last person you like to see darkening your doorstep. I was surprised when you called.”
“I thought that you and I needed to have a chat.”
“About?”
“My daughter, mostly.”
He nods. “You mean, my wife.”
There was no need to say it. It was petty as fuck and Tyler knows it. But there’s a sense of satisfaction at seeing the way that it bothers the woman. She can’t handle the fact that that’s exactly what he is.  Her daughter’s husband. The father of her grandkids. Five years and counting and she can’t accept him.  He’s still a stranger to her. That random guy that had talked her daughter into his bed and never let her leave.
“I know your secret you know,” her eyes are narrowed as she regards him.
He cocks his head to the side, smirk tugging at his lips. “You do, do you? And what secret is that?”
“I know what you’re up to. I know why you go away so much. Why you’re gone for so long.”
He doubted it. But why not play along and see where it goes.
“And why’s that?” he asks. “Why do I go away so much?”
“It isn’t for a job. No one travels that much for a job.  It’s women. Other women. Not just one. Many. All over the damn place.”
At first, he just stares at her. Trying to even comprehend the nonsense that is coming out of her mouth. He’s made a lot of stupid decisions in his life and has been a complete and utter asshole while both drunk and sober, but one thing he wasn’t was a cheater. And it wasn’t for the lack of temptation. He simply isn’t that kind of guy. The second he decided to pop the question, that was it. There would be no other women after her. Ever.
Finally he throws his head back and laughs. The mere idea so ridiculous that he can’t help himself.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he agrees. “I have other women all over the world. I even have another family back in Australia. Eight kids. Your daughter knows all about them.”
She frowns. “You can laugh all you want. But I know it’s true.”
“You don’t know shit. There are no other women. There haven’t been any other women since I met your daughter. I would never, ever cheat on Esme.”
“I know men like you,” she growls.
“Men like me? What kind of man am I?”
“Just look at you. You just look the type. The good looks and the muscles and…”
“Are you trying to pick me up? Because I hate to sound like an asshole, but you’re not my type. And I’m not into a whole mother-daughter thing, so…”
“How many are there?” she presses. “How many other women are there?”
“You’re actually being serious about this? You really think I’m cheating on your daughter?”
“I know you are.”
“Like I said already, you know shit. I am not cheating on your daughter. I will never cheat on your daughter. She’s my wife. The mother of my children. The last thing I would ever do is hurt her like that. I’d put a bullet in my brain before I’d ever hurt her. Or my kids. There are no other women. There’s only her. I only want her. For the rest of my life.”
She stares at him.
“I love your daughter. More than I ever thought I could love someone. She’s my entire existence. Her and my kids. So don’t sit here and insult me. I don’t cheat. I’m not your husband.”
She blinks at the harsh truth dumped in her lap.
“I know you hate me. I know you think I took your daughter away from you.”
“You did.”
“But she chose to stay. When I was in the hospital, she was the one that chose to stick around. I didn’t even expect her to be there when I woke up. But she was. And you know what? That was the happiest fucking moment in my life when I opened my eyes and she was sitting there.  Imagine almost dying and when you come to, that is the first thing you see? Someone that beautiful at your bedside?  You have no idea what that felt like. To see her there. And to know she chose to be there.”
“She’s loyal,” her mother agrees. “To a fault.”
“Maybe. But she’s also the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. And an amazing mother. You don’t see her with those kids. How she is with them. She puts everything she has into raising them. She tries every day to be a better person, a better mother for them. Probably because she never had that herself.”
“Excuse me, but what…”
“Don’t bullshit yourself. You know it’s the truth. You’ve spent the past thirty-five years shitting all over her. Making her feel horrible about herself, making her feel as if she doesn’t measure up, that she disappointed you. You even stayed friends with her ex husband. Who’s a fucking coward that likes to abuse women. You don’t hate me because I took your daughter away. You hate me because I’m the only one that’s ever defended her. Because you know you can’t manipulate me.”
She gives a small snort and takes a large gulp of her drink.
“I gave her the chance,” Tyler continues. “After I woke up in the hospital and before anything went further between us. I told her that she could leave. That she didn’t have to stick around. That she didn’t have to feel obligated to be there. And you know what she did? She told me she loved me. And it didn’t even matter that I didn’t say it back right away. She was sticking around. I didn’t force her to be there. Regardless of what you think.”
“You got her pregnant,” she hisses. “Of course she’d stay.”
“We didn’t know about the baby before I told her she could leave. That was three weeks later. And no, it wasn’t planned. We should have been more careful. But Esme gave me a beautiful daughter. Millie is beautiful and she’s smart and she’s caring and she’s everything that’s good about me and everything that’s good about Esme all rolled into one. She wasn’t planned, but she wasn’t unwanted. She’s your granddaughter. How can you look at her and think she was an accident? How the fuck can you honestly think that?”
“I never said she was an accident.”
“You were drunk last Christmas and told her to her face that her mommy and daddy made a mistake and that’s why she’s here. She was four years old. You broke her heart. A little girl. And not just any little girl. My little girl. That’s pretty fucked up and I probably should have let your daughter beat your ass when she wanted to. But I didn’t.”
“I was drinking. If I’d been sober..”
“Please. You’ve said some pretty messed up shit about your own kid when you’ve been sober so don’t play that shit with me. You really want to know where I go and why I’m gone for so long? How I ended up in the hospital all torn up to shit?  You really want to know?”
She stares at him.
“Because I’ll tell you. I will tell you the honest to God’s truth if you want to know. You won’t like what you’ll hear, but I will tell you. Is that what you want?”
She nods.
****
He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Clears his throat noisily.  “I’m a mercenary,” he says, and he watches the way her eyes widen and her brows shoot up.  “I was a mercenary when I met Esme. It’s how we met. She was involved with the same people I worked for. That I still work for.”
“What?” she laughs incredulously. “Esme? My Esme?”
“She was an intel person. She was the one that would that go into a place and trick people into telling her everything that we needed to know. Names, places. That sort of thing.  And she was good at it. No, she was fucking great at it. And that’s how we met. My boss put us together and sent us to Bangladesh. Dhaka.”
She swallows the remains of her drink, then gets up to pour another.
“We were sent there because one drug lord took another drug lord’s kid and my boss was having a hard time getting information. So we had to pretend that we were married. Newlyweds doing missionary work. She was there to get the info, I was there to protect her. After that, I was the one in charge of getting the kid out.”
“Ovi.” It’s a statement. Not a question.
Tyler nods. “Things went to shit. Everything blew up in our face. I almost died. On a bridge there. When I was shot in the throat. There were other injuries too. Tons of them. It’s how I ended up in the hospital for as long as I was.  I was this close…” he holds his thumb and forefinger a hairs width apart. “…to dying on that bridge. And the only reason I didn’t? The only thing that kept me hanging on? Your daughter. So don’t you ever question my love or my loyalty to her ever again.”
She leans back in her chair, hands tightly clasping her drink.
“That’s a lot to hear, I know. But it’s the truth. That’s what happened. That’s who I am. Who I really am. I get sent places to help people. I get paid to go into god awful shitty messes to fix things. And sometimes, things go wrong and I get the shit kicked out of me. Or I get stabbed. Or shot. But I always come home. To my wife and my kids. So no…” he sips his coffee. “…I am not cheating on your daughter. Although right now I bet you wish I was instead of hearing all this other crap.”
Silence. Even longer and more tedious than the first one. And he sits back in his chair and slowly sips the coffee.  Waiting for her to finally come to terms with all the information that she’s just been given.
“But why?” she asks at last. “After everything you went through…after almost dying…why would you still do it?”
“Because the money is good,” he admits. “And I’m good at it. Damn good. It’s what I do.”
“Well that’s pretty fucking selfish don’t you think? A job like that when you have a wife and kids at home?”
“Maybe. But your daughter accepts it. She supports me. I do what I have to do for my family. Even if it means killing people.”
“And Esme is okay with that? With you…killing people?”
“Your daughter was in the Marines. She specialized in weapons and ammunition. You really don’t think her hands are entirely clean, do you?”
“No…I just…I…” she stumbles over her words. “…I guess I never thought about what she was actually doing when she was overseas. And now you’re telling me she was a mercenary and…”
“She wasn’t. That wasn’t her job. Her job was to gather intel. That’s it.”
“It’s your job to kill people.”
“I kill them if I have to. Sometimes there’s no other choice.”
“But what about your children? What do you tell them? What…?”
“They have no clue what is going on. Millie sort of does. She asked Ovi why I go away so much and what I do when I’m away. He just told her that I help people get away from bad guys. They’re young. They don’t need to know anything more than that. And I hope you can respect that. That you can respect your daughter enough not to say anything. To them. To anyone.”
“I can’t even wrap my head around all of this,” she admits. “This is all just so crazy. I’m sitting across the table from a killer. A hired killer.”
“I don’t just kill people. That’s not all there is to it. It just has to happen sometimes. I’m asking you for a favour here. I’m asking you not to say anything to the kids. To anyone else in the family. This goes no further than the two of us. The less people who know, the better. Trust me.”
“I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” she promises. “And even if I did, no one would believe me. This is just all so…insane.”
“It’s wee bit crazy,” he agrees, and then checks his cell phone as it vibrates against the table.  
“Esme?”
“Yeah, the kids always get her to send me pictures,” he smiles at the one currently on the screen: the twins helping feed the chickens.  And he holds the cell out, screen towards her. “They like to help. They love being outside. Love to help their mom out.”
For a few minutes they’re able to put their differences aside -and she’s able to forget about the booze- as he shows her the various, most recent pictures in his room. Including the one that Esme had sent him of himself, Millie, and the twins sleeping on the hammock.
“Do you ever think about taking them to your home?” she asks curiously. “You’re home, home. Where you’re from.”
“Sometimes I think about it, I guess. About how much they’d like it. All the beaches and the water. And it would be nice to take them. At least for a visit. Just to let them see where I grew up. Maybe even meet their grandfather. That’s up in the air. He isn’t exactly the grandfather type. He wasn’t even the father type, so it shouldn’t surprise me that grandkids aren’t important to him.”
“Esme said that they two of you aren’t close. That’s sad.”
“It is what it is. We haven’t been close in a long time. Since my mother died. Even before then things weren’t great. He was there, but he wasn’t there at the same time. Esme’s told me a lot about her father. They were very close.”
“Very,” she confirms. “She was a daddy’s girl. Daddy could do no wrong in her eyes. They were always together. He was always right by her side, supporting her every step of that way. He would have been proud of her. For joining the Corps. He would have been so proud,” she clears her throat noisily as tears threaten. “He was a good man. A fantastic man. And a big piece of her died when he did.  She was never the same. Never happy. Rarely smiled or laughed. That changed when you came along.”
“It’s all I want. For her to be happy. To make her happy.”
“I saw it right away. That first night when the two of you got to Colorado. She was tired and she was hurting but she was happy. Every time she looked at you, every time you smiled at her, the way you spoke to her. I knew that you made her happy. And I could tell that she made you happy as well.”
“She does. She came into my life when I didn’t have anything to live for. She gave me a reason to keep going. Now I have four other reasons.”
She smiles at that.
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for your daughter,” he says. “Or your grandkids. You can hate me all you want, but they’re my family. My entire world. And I love your daughter. More than I could ever tell you. More than I could ever tell her, actually.”
She reaches out and lays her hand over his. The first display of genuine affection he’s received from her in five years.
“You’re good for her,” she says. “And I hope she’s just as good for you.”
“She is. In so many ways. I don’t know what happened between the two of you. Why the two of you stopped being close. But your daughter deserves that again. She may be a mom now, but she deserves to have a mom, too.”
She nods slowly, considering his words.
***
He stays for an hour. Helping her clean up the mess in the house. Fixing lose cabinets and changing burnt out lightbulbs and helping take things down to the basement for storage. They talk; she tells him stories from Esme’s childhood, he shares tales of growing up in Australia.  Afterwards she walks him out to the car, and the hug she gives this time is genuine.
“Please take care of them. My daughter. My grandkids. That’s all I ask. Just take care of them.”
“I will. I promise.”
“And don’t hurt my daughter. She trusts you. Don’t make her regret that.”
“I won’t. You don’t have to worry about that. I love her too much to hurt her.”
Tears sparkle in her eyes. “Thank you. For loving her as much as you. And for giving me those beautiful grandbabies.”
He smiles, and then gives her a hug of his own.
“And be careful,” she adds, as he climbs into the SUV. “When you’re out there. Just be careful. Be safe.”
“I always am.”
She reaches out and pats him on the cheek affectionately. Motherly. Then steps back as he shuts the door, guns the ignition, and drives away.
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the-bounce-back · 4 years
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5 STEPS TO  EMOTIONAL DETACHMENT FROM TOXIC AND USELESS SOMEBODIES
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Well, hello there. It’s been a slightly long minute… but I’m back with another banger for your headtops. A lot has happened since my (four month late) birthday post in which I said I was going to write more regularly… but you know what? I refuse to feel bad about it. We’re really in a whole pandemic, life is hurling curveballs at all of us at very disrespectful rates, and now the year is coming to an end very swiftly - like say it wasn’t June just a couple weeks ago. Yes, I’ve been feeling extremely unmotivated to come on here and give everyone a pEpTaLk about how ~*great*~ life is once you let go of everything that’s been holding you back - and that’s okay. I’ve decided to give myself a break instead of beating myself up over it, and can’t lie… I needed it. Besides - posting this post in particular now coincides nicely with releasing and purging all the drama that has been happening during this year before 2021 arrives, so let’s just pretend that the delay was intentional. Okay? Okay!
All jokes aside, I have been struggling a little with writing about this topic, because I really wanted to make sure I did it properly. If you read my never-ending birthday post (if not, read it here), you might remember that one of the points was that learning how to detach yourself from toxic people and situations is pretty much crucial for you to be able to fully let go of the past, to be able to move forward in life without any remorse or guilt, and to never revisit what used to be very painful situations ever again. As much as my own detachment jOuRnEy has been going relatively well, to say that the whole “letting things go and never revisiting them again” thing has proven to be quite the challenge would be the understatement of the century.
By quite the challenge, I mean a f*cking nightmare.
I’m sure many of you can relate when I say that having all this forced time off/downtime throughout the past year has made introspection, reflection and self-analysis pretty much inevitable. Even when you’re just trying to chill and binge watch your favourite box set for the gazillionth time as a distraction, eventually your thoughts catch up with you - forcing you to face certain things that were so easily ignored and avoidable when the outside was still open. 
When you spend so much time of a day in your thoughts (trying not to lose your mind from the boredom), it’s only natural to start evaluating your situation, relationships and state of mind. I can only speak for myself, but going from constantly being able to avoid certain thoughts and feelings to suddenly being brutally forced to sit with them ended up being the catalyst I needed to want to find a way to finally strip myself of all the painful baggage, situations and people that have been holding me back from moving forward in life. Aaaand cue the inevitable - but extremely necessary - discomfort that the detachment process brings.
Hella revelations. Hella difficult conversations. Hella growing pains. Hella tears. Hella ended relationships/friendships. The list goes on.
I realise that I’m not exactly selling the whole detachment thing very well, but let’s be very real - it is painful, and you definitely need to be in the correct headspace to even be able to admit to yourself that you’ve allowed a certain situation to go on for so long. I can’t even lie, living in denial and turning a blind eye to former fRiEnDs’ behaviours and how they treated me was a hell of a lot easier. I accidentally got into the habit of justifying and defending other peoples’ mistakes and sh*tty behaviours, no matter how much it hurt me in the process… all because I saw pOtEntIaL in them.
Bruh. Typing it out like this and reading it out to myself is even annoying me. Ya girl is pissed for letting this sh*t run because where was my logic? My critical thinking skills? Common sense? InTuItIoN that I claim to have?! Was my third eye asleep?!
Sigh. Let me relax. It is well… no point in beating myself up over it now. But still.
However - with that being said - I definitely feel like I had to put myself through a lot of that sh*t, because if I hadn’t I’d definitely still be clinging on to expired/toxic friendships and connections. Going through it really had me in a place of suspecting that everyone wanted to hurt me and/or take advantage of my kindness. Luckily, I met some amazing people along the way that reminded me that not everyone is trash, that I am deserving of genuine and real connections, and that I need to learn how to let go of people once they start moving all kinds of mad… enter the concept of detachment.
As you can probably tell from the ever so slightly passive-aggressive title - no, I haven’t fully mastered the art of detachment… yet. I definitely have a long way to go before I can commit to the last couple of steps of the process, because as a chronic overthinker that looooves to analyse past situations and an eMpAtH that hates giving up on people, simply ~*letting go*~ is infinitely more easier said than done… but definitely not impossible. It really is an ongoing process, and I can tell you from now that you will revert back into the toxic mindsets that lead you to your current situation at least 1000 times along the way… but what’s important is learning how to g-check yourself, remind yourself why you are doing this and to keep it pushing no matter what.
Anyways. Without further ado, keep on reading to find out how to leave your d*ckhead exes, fake-ass friends and painful memories in 2020, so you can move forward into 2021 with love, light, a clean slate, peace of mind and all that other corny and cringe sh*t that we all crave - and never look back. Enjoy!
1. Set a very concrete reason why you want to start the detachment process.
Usually, this is a no-brainer. Most likely, the person you’ve decided you want to detach from has just done or said something unforgivable that makes you feel sick for ever even being associated with them. Or, you’ve clocked a series of minor violations that have built up over time… and one more tiny violation pushes you over the edge and makes you lose your head. Either way, it works as a catalyst to make you finally realise just how little respect they have for you, your feelings or your mental health.
However, there are certain situations where the reason may not be as clear as “she f*cked my ex” or “he stole £5k from my account” - sometimes, it’s literally just a gut feeling that someone doesn’t have your best interests at heart the way you have for them. Regardless, it is important to remember that any and all reasons to want to let someone go are valid, and you don’t owe anybody an explanation. This is your healing process and journey, and you’re the one that’s going to have to deal with the pain of it - so anyone that has any remarks on how/why/when you do it can choke, because what’s their own?
With that being said, it is imperative to make sure that the reason is strong enough for you to be able to stick to the process - because believe me when I say that there will be times where you’ll start asking yourself if you’re overreacting, if it’s really that deep, you’re being too sEnSiTiVe or being too radical. These thoughts are either a way for our mind to avoid having to process a lot of sh*t that will probably be very emotionally painful to work through, or a result of being gaslighted and being told that it’s nothing serious. In those cases, a strong reason should be enough to keep you reminded of why you are putting yourself through this process. It should keep you going, and help you find yourself on your darkest days when you just want to give up.
For me, determining a good reason that I know I will stick to became easier over time, because I realised that really delving deep into the root cause of the issue makes everything so much clearer. For example - yes, while Lucy shagging your ex and then meeting up with you for drinks is violation enough, chances are that if you dig deeper, you’ll realise that there’s been repeated pattern of her not respecting you as a friend, disregarding your feelings and not caring about how her actions affect you. In instances like this, it becomes easier to commit to cutting them out of your life, because it’s not just a “one-off” violation, if that makes sense.
The bottom line is that regardless of what the reason is, it should be a clear indication that you are choosing you. Your mental health, your sanity, your energy, your present and your future - and why would you want to jeopardize any of these for someone that clearly doesn’t appreciate your worth?
2. Find healthy coping methods to release your emotions.
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I’ll be honest with you - the beginning of the detachment process is definitely the most difficult part, emotionally speaking. Yes, the whole journey is hard, but it’s in the beginning where you have to adapt to not speaking to this person anymore, not seeing them anymore, and having to force yourself to establish heavy boundaries with them… which will most likely be met with reactions that will make you want to respond in some way. Just because you know someone isn’t good for you anymore, doesn’t mean that your old feelings for the person just magically evaporate into nothing. 
As much as you may hate to admit it to others and even yourself, you’re going to be hurting. And pain has a way of pushing us to find coping methods to release these emotions - or not have to deal with them at all.
Trust me, as much as I understand and can personally attest to that coping methods that numb your senses may feel like the best option at the time, the truth is that they do nothing for your personal growth. Sure, sometimes you just don’t want to feel - but what happens when you’re sober again? The feelings come right back - and now you’re really playing a dangerous game that can lead to spiralling, health problems and addiction. In the long run, you rarely end up feeling any better.
Healthy coping mechanisms look different for everyone, but there are definitely a few that are universal and can be good for pretty much anyone regardless of the specifics of the situation. 
Talking to someone you trust (or a therapist). Working out. Indulging (heavily) in self-care. Doing things that bring you joy. Finding a creative outlet that you can pour all your feelings into… like a mental health blog(!). The possibilities are endless if you stay open minded and genuinely want to get better.
For those that may be stuck in that dark place where literally nothing will make you feel better (except maybe the person you’re trying to detach from… gets like that sometimes), or you feel like your energy is extremely limited - try to set one goal for the day. Just the one. Even if it is just tidying your room, taking a shower or doing the dishes. Setting minor goals that you realistically feel are achievable - and achieving them - are very helpful in gradually building up the confidence in yourself that you will get past this part of your life. And that goes for all situations in life that are heavy -  not just the detachment process.
3. Find ways to keep your mind in the present and on the future. 
So, you’ve started to begrudgingly get used to the fact that the person isn’t going to be around in your life anymore. You might even have started to realise how much your stress-levels have reduced, and begun to realise that this whole process was an excellent idea. However… not quite enough time has passed for you to be fully immersed in your journey, and you still think about them pretty much all the time. You’re feeling like a nitty trying to cope without crack for the first time in years, and that’s okay.
While it is important to allow yourself to fully acknowledge your feelings and mourn the loss of what used to be a very strong connection, you definitely owe it to yourself to try your best to remain present during this time. As tempting as dramatically starting out the window while it rains and thinking about them - like you’re in a music video - may sound, doing this is guaranteed to keep you firmly lodged in the past, and very stagnant in life… and we don’t want that. 
Just do a couple songs to get the dramatics out of your system, then get ready to boss the f*ck up.
Now might feel like the worst possible time to start something new, especially since your emotions are probably all over the place and you’re finding it hard to focus on little else. But trust me when I say that this is exactly why you need to do it - you need to reclaim your life by putting yourself back into the main focus of it. And what better way to do it than starting a project you’ve always wanted to do, but haven’t because of insecurities and/or self-doubt?
Regardless of if it’s pursuing a new hobby or even starting your own business, having an activity that brings you joy, challenges you and pushes you to set and exceed goals for yourself is imperative at this kind of time in your life. While a lot of the detachment process is pretty much trying to force yourself not to think about someone - thus making you want to think about them even more - having a passion project is a healthy way of willingly keeping your mind in the present and on your future. This, because you’ll constantly be looking for ways to improve your skills for yourself and your success in life.
Personally speaking, this blog was the perfect passion project for me back when I started my own detachment process. It still is - despite my inconsistency in writing, there actually isn’t a day that goes by without me thinking about future posts and what messages I want to share with whoever ends up reading it. However, since my writing does involve a lot of reflecting on past situations, I’ve decided to expand my creativity and start selling my art (check it out here, we love a cheeky and shameless self plug!). Focusing mostly on drawing, getting more involved in the art community, investing in art supplies and researching drawing methods lately has definitely made me more present and motivated… and I’ll even go as far as saying that I’ve forgotten about the people I’m detaching from at times.
The point I’m trying to make is that doing something you enjoy for your own mental wellbeing is one of the most rewarding parts of this whole detachment palaver. When you fully deep how much of your time that used to be spent worrying and stressing yourself out over someone trash, and focus that time on something creative that actually benefits you and makes you feel better about yourself, you’ll soon find yourself asking yourself why you didn’t start earlier.
Of course, it is important to remember that while feeling passionate and motivated in your creative/business ventures after feeling like sh*t for so long is a great thing, you should still make room for sitting with your feelings from time to time. Especially in the beginning. There’s a very, very fine line between using a hobby to empower and uplift yourself, and using it as a distraction to not think or feel at all. At the end of the day, it’s all about finding a good balance that takes into account where you currently are in your healing process - over time you’ll realise that you won’t need as many “days off” to be in your feelings, and trust me… that realisation and feeling is phenomenal.
4. Forgive and heal.
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I just love how I’ve bunched these two together into one cute little step like they’re not the hardest part of the process. In theory, forgiving someone for yourself (not for their benefit) makes a lot of sense, but let’s be honest… a lot of us lie to both others and ourselves when we say we’ve moved on and forgiven them. 
I, for one, can confidently say that most people I’ve claimed to have fOrGiVeN still live in the deepest parts of my mind rent free. They might not be present all the time in the way that they used to since I started the detachment process, but once I get in my feelings their presence is often there as strong as ever… and this is okay. Of course you’re not going to magically forget how someone treated you just because you’re committed to moving on, but there comes a certain point where you realise that all you’re doing is going round and round in circles in your mind, while time is just passing you by. Think about it - how many hours of your life do you reckon you have spent in bed, staring at the ceiling dramatically while fuming over a situation in which you were done dirty?
If you’re anything like me, the answer is BARE. And don’t even get me started on how the amount of hours increased more than tenfold during the lockdown because I couldn’t even distract myself properly.
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Actual footage of me re-deeping a vio at 4 am.
But as much as lamenting to yourself about how much sh*t you’ve let slide and how you’re never going to let yourself be treated like that again is healing in itself, at some point you literally feel yourself losing the plot from replaying the situation in your head so much.
This is a sign that it’s time to heal and truly move on. It’s time to evict them from your mind… because they have millions of pounds in rent arrears at this point… and that can’t run, because what kind of disrespect?! You deserve better than shitty tenants, or worse - squatters.
Ok, enough with the renting comparisons because I can’t concentrate while chuckling to myself. The thing about healing and moving forward is that there is no one size fits all solution that works for everyone, so all I can really do is speak for myself and hopefully provide some tools that you can use to tailor your own healing journey. 
This is going to sound very dramatic and depressing - because it is - but I’ve noticed that for me, the past creeps into my mind in the form of happy memories and good times… inevitably making me reminisce about people that used to mean a lot to me. This might not seem like anything harmful - surely there’s nothing wrong with reliving some good times in your head, right?
Wrong. For me, it starts off all cute and positive - but then my mind starts to wander. I start to remember other memories with the person. The bad memories that made me not want to have them in my life anymore. The memories in which I realised exactly how worthless, disrespected and unappreciated they made me feel… and what was meant to be happy reminiscing turns into either sadness or frustration, because now I have to re-open their case to really make sense of how much they had me f*cked up back then. Aaand before I know it, hours upon hours of angry analysing have passed by. Time that I’ll never get back, which will never sit right with me.
The way I’ve managed to combat this is by throwing myself into my own self-growth and self-love journey. In simple terms, placing all my focus on my mental wellbeing, my future goals and personal development makes it gradually easier to leave the past in the past - because the more I evolve, the less I associate myself with past versions of myself where I may not have been as strong, secure and assertive, as reminding myself of my worth has made me now. I can now understand and accept why I chose not to see the disrespect at the time - usually because of my former attachment issues, or because I deluded myself into thinking that the person cared the same way I did. El oh el.
Basically, I realised that a lot of my attachments to these toxic people came from a place of unresolved trauma, lack of validation and low self-worth. Once I identified these issues and started working through them, I noticed that placing my focus on understanding myself instead of someone else made things easier to cope with - because while I’ll never fully understand how someone else's mind works, I can work on understanding mine because I’m literally in it 24/7, 365. 
In other words, healing and forgiveness is all about YOU and your development, and has very little to do with the other person in the long run.
Another large part of the forgiveness process for me is dedicating some time to use what I know about the person that I’m trying to detach from to understand the “bigger picture” of why they treated me the way that they did. A vast majority of cases just made me realise that their actions, thought processes and ideas were literally just a series of trauma responses and projections that they weren’t aware of - or were aware of, but refused to address.
Either way, this is where my empathetic nature works in my favour - because I know what it’s like to not be able to swallow your pride and deny certain negative aspects of yourself. Admitting that you’ve been in the wrong and that you need to heal takes a great deal of self-awareness and humility - traits that the people I’ve dealt with definitely do not embody. The unfortunate truth is that a lot of people might even live their whole life deluding themselves that they are okay, that their actions don’t hurt others and that they are not to blame for anything. When I realised this, I noticed that a lot of my anger started to fade - and I started to pity them instead, making forgiveness slightly easier. What’s important to remember here is that while pity can make you want to bE tHeRe for the person and help them heal, it’s actually very much their personal journey. You can’t help someone that doesn’t realise they need it, or that doesn’t want to be helped - so all you can do is leave them to it and focus on your own life.
Another important aspect of forgiveness and healing is remembering that it is inherently an act of self-care, and not a service you’re doing to the other person. You’re not “letting them off easy”, “letting sh*t slide”, or “letting them win” by choosing to not allow the situation poison your thoughts, feelings and present anymore. You’re choosing your mental health, sanity and future - all very valid reasons for jUsT LeTtInG gO, if you ask me.
“But Liv! How do I know that I am truly ready to move forward? And how do I know that these feelings won’t come back and re-trigger me in the future, despite all this effort I’ve put into healing now?”
Excellent questions. I wish I had better answers... but the harsh truth for both is that you don’t. You have no idea what’s going to happen, how people are going to act, what will remind you of the situation or what is going to trigger you. You have zero control over the situation, and you’ll come to the ugly realisation that the world, in fact, doesn’t revolve around you and your comfort and mental health.
I know, right? Imagine my shock, horror and surprise when I realised this.
The truth is that life is going to keep throwing cute little triggering curveballs at you, and the only thing you can truly control is how you react to it. You can choose to let it poison your mind and mood… or you can simply sit with it, allow it to pass without attaching emotions to it, and then keep it pushing when you’re ready to.
I’d definitely argue that this part of the process is the hardest to achieve - especially when you’re an emotional drama Queen like myself. However, once you get to that point where you can let your triggers and memories pass without affecting the present… you’ve pretty much won, because nothing can rattle you anymore. You become truly unf*ckwithable, and I can’t wait until I get to this stage of my process. 
In the meantime, it’s all about constantly reminding yourself to stay in the present, because life will keep going on regardless of where your mind is at.
5. Be grateful for the process and do not look back.
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I know, I know - feeling gratitude when you’re neck-deep in the sh*t is infinitely easier said than done. When you’re there ugly crying in the mirror, the last thing on your mind is going to be “Aw, look how much I’ve grown! I love that for myself! Well done, me!”. However, when you’re all exhausted, cried out and feel that zen feeling afterwards (you know what I’m on about), take time to acknowledge that while it feels like it’s never going to end now, one day you’ll be able to make your peace with what happened and that it will never happen again. 
Be grateful to yourself over your resilience, how much you’ve learnt and how highly you must regard yourself for pushing yourself through this whole experience - because as you know by now, it is extremely hard.
When you can learn to see past the pain and emotional distress this whole process has caused you and find silver linings that you can be grateful for, it’s finally time to start looking towards never looking back on the situation ever again. Or, at the very least, being able to think about it without attaching any emotion to it, and just letting the thoughts pass by without any judgement before gently bringing yourself back to the present and getting on with your happier, stress-free life. Sometimes it can be easy to romanticize an old connection when a lot of time has passed, and you start to forget why you were so angry and hurt in the first place. In these cases, it’s important to remind yourself of why letting go and keeping it pushing is so important for your growth. Here are some things I like to consider when I feel myself spending too much time on memory lane, reminiscing and lowkey wishing I hadn’t been emotionally intelligent enough to recognise I needed to move forward:
Where would I be - emotionally and mentally - right now if I hadn’t decided to put myself first?
If I met someone new that reminds me of the person I’m detaching from, how would I react?
How have my current friendships and other relationships changed since deciding to focus on detachment and healing?
When comparing my past state of mind to my current one, what has changed in regard to how I view myself? How I view relationships/friendships? 
How has pushing myself being the best version of myself set me up for future relationships, friendships and generations (if I end up having kids)?
Spoiler alert: I can tell you now that you will realise that you have grown so much without even realising it. Seemingly behind your own back, you’ve become a self-aware, self-loving, no-sh*t-taking, confident powerhouse that would rather have all your toenails slowly extracted before even considering letting someone get away with disrespecting you ever again. You will realise that everyone currently in your life is there because you want them to be - not because you need them in any way. They’re there because they love and support you the way you deserve to be - but you know that if anyone was to act up, it’s curtains… because now you know that anyone that doesn’t consider your mental health and happiness important has no place in your life. And that’s on Tampax Compak Super Plus.
I want to end this post with a personal story from my own detachment process. As those of you that have been reading my blog for a long time know, one of the biggest reasons why I even started this blog in the first place was to have an outlet for my emotions and to help myself to heal after a bad breakup. 
When I say I thought I was going to die, I’m not even being dramatic or exaggerating. I legit thought that I would never be able to move past it, or get over him. Back then - despite having a decent background in psychology and understanding the importance of expressing my emotions - I chose to bottle things up (except for in therapy) and turned to unhealthy coping methods so I didn’t have to feel so much. I can’t lie… life was very sh*t, and I honestly struggled to see the point of even being alive anymore.
Fast forward about a year - I made the conscious decision to take responsibility for my healing and detachment, because I realised that holding on to someone that hurt me so badly wasn’t healthy. Deciding to let go of all the promises we made to each other, the memories and good times is hands down one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but I realised that just clinging onto the past just because of familiarity was not the one. Plus, at this point I had started to be able to admit to myself that the relationship was never as perfect as I had made it out to be in my head - making it easier and easier to gradually let go. I begrudgingly continued the healing and detachment process, winging it and hoping for the best.
Major time skip to just a few months ago - I’m literally just at home, chilling, minding my business. All of that. I went on the calendar app on my phone to check something, when it suddenly hit me that what would’ve been our seven year anniversary had passed a few days before… and I hadn’t even noticed. A date that used to mean so much to me and get me in my feelings just a year before, had now completely slipped my mind.
What’s more is that when I clocked it… I felt nothing. Nada. Zilch. And that’s when I fully realised how oblivious I had been to the bigger picture of my healing journey, because the sudden apathy towards a situation that really had me considering if life was even worth it anymore really came as a surprise. Even now, as I’m writing this and am clearly thinking about how dirty I got done… I feel nothing besides how proud I am of myself, and I love that for myself.
If I - THEE most sentimental, dramatic and emotional woman on the planet - can get there, trust me… you definitely can too. I had to figure out the “formula” for myself, but now that I’ve given it to you, you literally have no excuse for not letting that toxic and useless somebody hurt you anymore. Get to it! 
With that being said, I wish you a happy, stress-free, peaceful and self-loving 2021, because you deserve it. I can’t wait to share my new ideas with you in the new year, so I’ll see you on the oThEr SiDe.
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Love,
Liv
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booksandgalore · 5 years
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Mirrors of Pride [Yandere!BTS]
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Foreword:
Taehyung’s company is enjoyable when he isn’t contemplating about the different shades of black-and-white filters. Sure, he cares too much about the number of likes he has on social media.
And, yes, maybe you have to reject taking pictures of him everytime he hands you his phone, but true friends stay with each other no matter what. You just need to overlook his growing vanity, and ignore all the warning signs when he starts talking about someone non-existent.
Author’s Note:
It’s my first time posting (cross-posting) a story on Tumblr! Bear with me as I navigate how to link, edit my layout, etc. Though if you do have an tips and/or pointers on how I can make my blog look more appealing, haha, then I’ll take them. Do leave a comment if you enjoyed it!
[previous chapter]
2
The professor was changing the PowerPoint slides way too quickly, and even though you had been smashing the keys on your laptop as fast as your muscles could allow, you were left with unfinished bullet points on the topics you’d be tested on.
It seemed like your classmates shared the same sentiment as you. Looking at each other, they pursed their lips yet continued scribbling furiously in their notebooks and typing away.
However, Taehyung, who was sitting next to you, merely had his brow raised before he shook his head, his pencil moving ever so slowly.
You glanced over at his notes. He had hardly written anything! The only thing he had going for him was his outfit, you supposed. He wore a black cross earring on his right ear, and he donned this sort of sweatband on his forehead that pushed his hair out of his face. A plaid shirt was also tied around his waist even though he was sporting a jean jacket. The things he did for fashion.
Wait. You weren’t supposed to be that critical to a friend. Did you just insult him? So what if Taehyung preferred to focus on his clothing choices over something the professor lectured about? It was no big deal. For all you knew, Taehyung could be booking private rooms in the library to study in later, or he could be a photographic memory prodigy in disguise.
Gah, you really just insulted your friend, huh? Rolling your eyes at yourself, you reverted your attention back to the professor.
“And that’s all I’ll be discussing about today. Any questions?” Professor Smith said, scanning the room for any raised hands. “No? Well, that’s all, folks. You’ve got ten minutes left if you want to stay in this class, but I’ll get going now. I will post the slides by tonight.”
This was your karma seeking you out. You deserved this.
Yet shamelessly you grabbed Taehyung’s hand in order to stop him from closing his notebook. You released your grip on him when you saw his widened eyes, the dangling of his cross earring occupying your thoughts for a brief second. It suited him. Scooting closer to him nevertheless, you brought your head down to the paper and reviewed what he copied from the slides, but it wasn’t that much and Professor Smith was notorious for uploading his files a week later.
”Why does this class always make me so nervous?” you exclaimed, handing his notebook back to him. “How do you study, hmm?”
”I book a room in the library, but I usually stay late. Do you need help?”
Wow. How could you have undermined Taehyung’s intelligence just minutes before? You needed to work not on suppressing the materialistic tendencies you had left, but on being a good friend. Feeling the guilt creep up on you, you lowered your gaze while rubbing the nape of your neck. Was this why you had five close friends instead of the twenty diverse friends people seemed to have? You should buy Taehyung a surprise lunch during free hour to make it up to him...though he didn’t need to know the why.
”I’ll just wait for him to post the slides.” You had turned your head in such a way where you couldn’t see him through your peripheral vision as you shoved your laptop into your backpack. “Where are you going to be at free hour?” When your shame deemed that you had enough, you were able to face him once more.
”I’ll be at the Bio building,” Taehyung replied, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Just have to turn in this paper and then I’m done. Want to come with me?”
He smiled at you and suddenly your spirits brightened up a little. You would have to buy him those tacos he liked so much.
You returned his smile back at him. “I’ll just meet up with you at the Commons.”
Taehyung’s smile faltered slightly. “You’re not coming with me? Who will you be with?”
You weren’t sure who you’d be hanging out with in the Commons. Maybe you’d see Jimin and sit next to him if there was an empty spot, considering that the Commons was literally a common campus building where students bought and ate lunch, but then again Jimin was usually with Hoseok and that other friend group. You could always move away once Taehyung texted you, though.
“I’ll be with you,” you assured him. Knowing the words that would soothe his mind, you stated, “Who else would I be with, Taehyung? I don’t have that much friends.” You crossed your arms and sighed dramatically for effect, placating Taehyung’s irrational worries. The amount of times you had to do this....but friendship was different with him.
With everyone.
With Jimin even.
People were people, and people had different personalities, thoughts, aspirations, goals and fears, so it wasn’t wrong to act like this with Taehyung...right?
“Okay,” Taehyung winked, his smile retreating back to its fullest potential, “big brother will take care of you.”  
“Dude, shut up. I’m older than you by one month!” You stood up and walked to the door; holding it open for him, you said, “Ladies first.”
———
“...Jimin,” you whispered harshly, stupefied. “Is that soju I smell from your water bottle?”
“No, it’s vodka.” Jimin sipped a bit of his alcohol before offering it to you, his hand outstretched and eyes glinting with mischief. He was bold but a reckless type of bold and you were still in disbelief from the randomness of it all. Sure, Jimin could down seven shots of whatever mixture you could give him no matter how strong and still come out sober an hour later, but, damn, did the stress of finals week get to him?
You grabbed his “water bottle” and confiscated it inside your backpack. “You’re not getting this back.”
”(Name), it’s Friday. I only had one class today, and I’m done for the rest of the day. Let me live a little!” he whined, stomping his feet which was unlike him to do so. God. How much of these water bottles did he drink?
“Yes, but not on campus. You’re doing this in broad daylight and you could have gotten expelled, Jimin. Expelled!” You frowned at him and raised the level of your voice to convey the gravity of the situation. “What’s gotten into your head?”
Jimin remained silent. Then, he rested his head on your shoulder. Voice quivering, he confessed, “Eve broke up with me and I...I guess I...I mean I—“
”...Jimin,” you whispered, softly this time. “Come on, we know a girl can’t affect you that much.”
“You’re right.” Jimin removed his head from your shoulder and leaned against the wall. “I think it’s the alcohol, but why...why do I miss her so much?”
It was a miracle you guys were in a secluded area inside the Commons where people didn’t frequent as often. You wondered if on-lookers would simply walk away if they saw someone having a mental breakdown, but you speculated that college students were sympathetic with each other, and thus they would help Jimin. This thought comforted you. Jimin wasn’t alone, but Taehyung? Oh, Taehyung kept an arm’s distance from anyone he didn’t personally know. Would he be willing to receive the warmth of a stranger?
It was funny how despite Jimin’s silent tears rolling down his cheeks, you still thought of Taehyung. Perhaps it was because you knew Jimin could handle the hurt, and perhaps because you had witnessed the depth of hurt that Taehyung couldn’t handle. Likewise, the incessant vibrating of the phone in your pocket only served to remind you who needed you more. It had never stopped buzzing from when you first found Jimin in his depressed state. You couldn’t ignore him much longer.
”I’ll text Hoseok to come and get you,” you said, holding his hand. Jimin placed another hand on top of yours, though his eyes were still transfixed on the wall. You pulled away reluctantly to unlock your phone; you had ten messages from Taehyung, and half of his messages were sent on different apps. Ignoring an incoming call, you told Jimin, “Forget about Eve, okay?”
”Who’s Eve?” Jimin laughed, shoulders shaking with each chuckle. The tears on his face hadn’t stopped. “Eve who? Christmas Eve?”
”On second thought, how about I take you back to your dorm?”
“Will you carry me?”
Sighing, you sent a quick text to Hoseok telling him to come to your location. He had responded fairly fast, telling you that he was already near you guys and would be arriving in two minutes.
“You really risked it all and drank on school grounds for a girl?” You rubbed the temples of your forehead, a slight headache starting to form. “Really?”
Jimin continued staring at the wall. There was no response.
“You know better than that,” you said, hoping that this tough love would get through his head. “You’re better than this.”
He started to cry, and he didn’t stop crying even when your heart softened and you gave him a hug he desperately needed. You kept stroking his hair, rubbing his back, and murmuring sweet cheer-me-ups until Hoseok came and assessed the situation. Hoseok had hugged Jimin, and engulfed you in the process. The three of you were in this position for who knew how long, but Jimin’s tears had stopped flowing at one point, his body settling into quiet hiccups before remaining still.
“You should go, (Name). I’ll take care of him,” Hoseok urged you, voice close to your ear. If it were another scenario, you would have blushed.
You nodded, squeezing both Hoseok and Jimin’s shoulders, before heading away, to the person who needed you more.
But why did it feel like you only touched the surface level of Jimin’s troubles? Was it alright to leave? Should you have stayed? Should you have interrogated Jimin and seen if there was an underlying root cause about his sudden impulsivity to drink? Were you a bad friend?
These questions plagued your mind as you spotted Taehyung near an empty table, which was close to your university’s convenience store.
”What took you so long?” Taehyung asked, lips curved downwards. He ruffled his hair, an agitated sigh escaping his lungs. “I was waiting for you.”
”Sorry I was with Jimin. He was having a rough time.” You pulled your chair closer to him. He looked at you from the corner of his eye before resting his arm on the back of your chair. His brows remained furrowed. You figured out a long time ago that Taehyung liked it when you were next to him whenever he was in a bad mood, and since you left him hanging for thirty minutes, especially when you understood the type of person Taehyung was, he was, undoubtedly, in an unpleasant mood.
“Was it that bad?”
“Yes, it was.”
Taehyung scoffed. You glared at him. Even though he had issues which he told you about, what he did was still rude!
”How can it be that bad? Did he cry?” Crossing his leg, he clicked his tongue. “You should have at least texted me about it.”
You should breathe deeply. Friendships differed from person to person.
Understand Taehyung and where he’s coming from, you thought, because he helped you during times when you needed it the most.
“I’m sorry about that, Taehyung,” you said, looking at him in the eyes so he could feel the sincerity of your words. “I mean it.”
Taehyung’s posture appeared to relax, his tight-lipped frown dissolving. “It’s okay. Did you eat yet?”
”Not yet. Did you?”
”No,” He shook his head, “I didn’t.”
”Well, why don’t we buy some tacos from the food trucks outside Greenhill Hall? It’ll be my treat.” You bumped his shoulder in a lighthearted manner.
As you both headed towards your destination, you couldn’t help but stifle a heavy truth weighing inside your mind. You could think about it later. For now, Taehyung was the focus.
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Text
Imagine.
Erik getting Jealous of his BF’s guy best friend.
//////
Yeah Erik had a long ass work week but he did plan on turning up with his boys, especially his best friend CJ. That was his Rollie since elementary school. Wasn’t a thing Erik wouldn’t do for him, that was like his brother from another mother. CJ was a Party Promoter in LA and him and Erik worked on projects together.
He made it home in one piece, ready to take off the hot ass suit he had to wear. Heading to his chefs kitchen, he pulled out a fresh bottle of Hennessy with two shot glasses. CJ was his pre game partner. Fuck the other niggas they rolled with, Erik and CJ were the life of the party. Just like the saying goes, Bros before Hoes. Taking a quick shower, Erik made his way towards his walk in closet, scanning his selection for the hottest gear. The latest and the greatest. Wearing his fresh Versace silk top with his MNML black distressed denim jeans, he fixed his dreads, putting his gold rimmed luxury glasses on that he wore sometimes when he went out. He felt like wearing diamonds so he decked himself out with a white gold diamond chain with a matching diamond pinkie ring and bottom grill. It was extremely flashy but Erik’s crew were known for being the sexiest and flyest niggas in LA.
Checking himself one last time in his full length mirror before taking a quick thirst trap for the gram, Erik sprayed a little bit of cologne on his neck, chest, and wrists, heading back downstairs to get the bottle opened before CJ came through. Speaking of the devil, he got a FaceTime call from that nigga.
Erik: YOOOO! What’s good, bro? Man, we out here tonight right?
CJ: Shit, you know that’s how we do on a Friday night, Kill. Is it good to come through?
Erik: Yeah it’s good. Got the bottle ready when you get here, nigga.
CJ: My nigga, I’ll see you in about five minutes.
—————-
CJ: Yo, Erik, this my good homie Dax. Dax, this is Erik. Remember I was telling you about the brother I had from another mother, that’s this funny looking ass nigga here.
Erik: *kisses his teeth* says the nigga that been jocking me since we were 6.
Dax: Wassup, *gives Erik a dab* nice to meet you.
Dax and CJ already looked turnt and Erik was still sober.
Erik: what the fuck y’all niggas was drinking on something?
CJ: A little but not too much. Dax is my weed plug. He the best in LA. We made a stop at the new strip club downtown. Shit is live, bro.
Erik: *scrunches eyebrows* nigga, we was supposed to hit that shit up and now you rolling without me?
Dax: wasn’t much to see, bitches was weak. No ass in sight.
CJ: Chill, It’s only the first night. Let them get settled and watch all the fine bitches with ass be up in there.
Erik: *huffs* whatever, y’all wanna drink or what?
All three men had about three shots before calling up an Uber since driving wasn’t an option tonight. The Uber XL arrived and the finest chick Erik seen in a while was the driver. She was chocolate, long silky frontal with a fitted black dress on. She had eyes like Rihanna and lips like Megan good.
Erik: Damn, you sexy.
Uber Driver: *blushes* Thank you.
Erik: Now ain’t you lucky to be driving us tonight.
Erik was about to make himself comfortable in the front until Dax pulled up first all loud.
Dax: Roxanne? Lil Roxy?! Damn girl look at you!
Roxy: Dax!!! *smiles wide* sit up front.
Erik glares at the back of Dax head, making his way to the back. Once they all were comfortable, Roxy took off.
Roxy: Dax, *looks at him hungrily* Your fine chocolate ass been hiding from me?
Dax: I told you when you want me come through I’ll take care of you, *strokes her thigh* you know I miss all that.
Erik closed his eyes, resting his head back. Damn, the nigga Dax stole his chance to holla at Roxy. So far, this nigga was raining on his parade. If he wasn’t here, Erik would have another bitch to turn to.
Erik: Yo, Dax, where you from?
Dax: New Orleans originally.
Erik: Why LA?
Dax: Just needed a change.
CJ: Yo Dax we still down for Nola next month? I’m tryna turn up.
Dax: You already know. I gotta show you my city.
Erik: *sits up with a foggy brain from drinking* Nola? Nigga what happened to Miami?
CJ: *ponders* Ohhhh, Damn, Kill. Shit, that slipped my mind. I already booked a flight to Nola. Maybe later that month we can go.
Erik: Nigga you know I’m the CFO of the wakandan Outreach, right? So THAT MEANS that I got shit to do. We already planned this shit now you going to Nola. lame ass nigga.
CJ: Erik, Chill the fuck out, how many times we do shit together? You acting like a whiny bitch.
Erik: *flares with anger* WHO A BITCH CJ?
Dax: Damn, Kill got a temper.
CJ: Chill out, E. We don’t wanna scare the pretty lady.
Roxy: *laughs* It’s cool, I like aggression.
Erik: Girl revert that shit on your passenger sitting next to you. I ain’t interested.
Roxy: *stares at Erik angrily*
CJ: Roxy, meet Drunk Kill. *laughs*
Erik: FUCK YOU. Where the bottle at?
————
Clearly wherever they were headed it was a regular spot for Dax. The VIP was live with all his peoples and apparently CJ knew them as well. When did this nigga find the time to befriend Dax? The shit was irritating.
Random person: AYE! ITS DAX AND CJ!
Random person 2: wassup, Dax, CJ, and...who you?
Erik: ....
CJ: This is Erik, my best friend and brother.
Erik: *scuffs, picking up a bottle of Dussé off ice, taking it to the head.*
Random person: He good?
CJ: Yeah, that’s just Kill.
Erik was clearly more interesting than the niggas in the VIP including CJ, but all the bitches who came in were all over DAX. Who THE HELL was this nigga? Erik thought he was just CJ’s weed man.
Erik: Y’all dry I’m heading to the floor.
CJ: You dancing? *laughs*
Erik: Yeah, nigga. Got a problem with that? *stumbles out of VIP*
CJ: Yeah, cus you ain’t got no coordination.
*everyone laughs in unison, Dax harder*
Erik: LETS SEE IF YOU SAY THAT NEXT TIME WHILE IM IN YOUR BITCH!
———
The dance floor worked for a while, Erik dancing with a fine ass chick for a little bit. They exchanged numbers but Erik wasn’t sure if he would call. Making his way back to VIP, he didn’t see CJ or Dax anymore, looking around with a confused expression.
Erik: where these niggas go?
That’s when Erik heard Dax laugh. He turned to the source of annoyance, spotting Dax and CJ talking to what looked to be YG. For some reason, this bothered the fuck out of Erik. He made his way out of VIP, walking over to them. Apparently, Erik walked up on a promotion deal. Dax knew YG personally and this made CJ happy. Erik wanted to punch that nigga Dax in the face. He was CJ’s right hand man in promotions. He made connections when CJ fell short. It was as if Dax was replacing him. Erik wouldn’t dare admit it because of his pride but he was getting jealous of dumb ass Dax. The nigga wasn’t no KILLMONGER but the relationship with CJ made Erik feel like he didn’t matter anymore. They were supposed to be brothers.
Erik: Yo, CJ, ima head out bruh.
CJ: Drunk and by yourself? nigga wait for me.
Erik: Nah, I’m not feeling it.
CJ: not feeling it? *looks at Erik with humor*
Dax: DAMN, we was ready to roll to another spot. I guess you can’t hang, Erik.
Erik: *puffs out chest with rage* Nigga don’t talk about me when you don’t know shit about me.
Dax: CJ, your boy is a hot head *laughs*
Erik: Oh yeah *smiles darkly* I’m more than a hothead, Dax. They don’t call me Kill for nothing.
CJ: *steps in between* OK OK that’s enough. Y’all niggas need to stop weighing dicks and chill the fuck out. Erik, let me holla at you real quick.
Erik: *follows behind CJ*
CJ: you good?
Erik: Ask me that shit again and watch what happen.
CJ: *snatches bottle from Erik’s hand* Erik, calm the fuck down. What’s your problem with Dax?
Erik: my problem is that nigga can’t roll with us no more. Fuck that nigga. He think he apart of the crew. Nigga ain’t even close.
CJ: *laughs hysterically* Nigga, are you jealous of Dax and me hanging?
Erik: *looks at CJ with wide eyes* FUCK ASS NO! You stupid, nigga?
CJ: Nah, I might be a little drunk but I ain’t stupid. You really jealous of Dax though?
Erik: *groans loudly* You making moves and shit without telling me and this nigga know about it before I do. Yeah, that shit got me bothered.
CJ: Erik. Who said I was making moves with him? Dax is just cool peoples that’s it. Ain’t nobody replacing you, Bro. Cut that shit out. Don’t have me thinking you going soft and shit. I already started thinking that when you adopted those two kittens.
Erik: *glares* FUCK YOU.
CJ: Aye, in all seriousness, bro, Don’t worry about that shit. You’re Erik Killmonger Stevens. If anything, from what Dax heard about you, he wanna be like you more than you know.
Erik: *stares at CJ with interest* how you figure that?
CJ: well... the nigga IS acting like you. He ain’t usually this bold.
Erik: FUCK, I knew it was some shit with him. *shakes his *head*
CJ: listen, instead of letting Dax shit on you, cuz, you know, *punches Erik’s shoulder* You Killmonger, Show that nigga how you really do it. And remember, ain’t nobody replacing my brother.
Erik: *laughs* Thanks man,
CJ: *shakes his head, handing Erik his bottle back* So can we get back to the fucking turn up?
Erik: Nigga, what you think?
CJ: My Nigga *does secret handshake*
Erik: I Hope ain’t no bitches see that.
CJ: *looks around cautiously* Yeah, me too.
50 notes · View notes