#and sometimes that has meant she eats food other people bought for themselves

[knight-engale]

Overestimated how hungry I was... bought more food than I could handle. But if I saved it and put it in the fridge there is a chance (a somewhat slim one, but a chance) that it would be stolen by a sibling. Hopefully I'll at least not be hungry in the morning...

[cartograffiti]

October '23 reading diary

In October I particularly wanted to tick off some novellas and other short reads from my tbr, which gave me a whopping total of 12 reads and 2 rereads to talk about!

The Emelan group read I'm in finished the first quartet, which meant I got to reread my favorites of them, Daja's Book and Briar's Book. They hit me quite hard, because one deals with wildfire (I live in one of the East Coast states that suffered from smoke at the start of this summer), and the other deals with plague. I continue to think this series is superior to Pierce's Tortall books. She shows more range here: the magic is based on more striking ideas, and the children deal with a greater range of interests and problems. They feel at once more fantastical and more relatable.

We also started the second quartet, so I read Magic Steps, which was great, and Street Magic, which made me feral. These are both somewhat grittier than the first quartet, Steps even including I think the goriest thing I have ever read in a Pierce book (I've read most of them), with counterbalances of the kids we know growing into themselves a bit, and younger mages with fun powers who need mentoring of their own. The original friends are split up in this quartet, which bums me out a bit, but I'll keep my fingers crossed that the later books reunite them.

Things to Look Forward To is a recent book from an illustrator I love, Sophie Blackall. The artwork is fab, but the cover pitch suggests that the text is upbeat and hopeful, and I was surprised to find that it is actually concentrated on the process of grief. If you're grieving too and want something to read about working through it, I recommend it, but I was a bit disappointed.

Some friends mentioned being shocked I had not read Ursula K. Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness, which meant I ended up screaming into eternalgirlscout's dms over the course of a couple of weeks. This was a once in a lifetime book, and while I wanted to devour it in one sitting, I kept getting overwhelmed. It's about gender, and sex, and being an alien, and thinking of other people as aliens, and the mistakes of anthropologists and ambassadors, and oral tradition, and law, and injustice, and community, with an extraordinary extreme cold weather escape and survival sequence. And it has multiple countries on the planet, which shouldn't be so special, and it! I! Listen, they have table utensils that are little hammers to break the ice if your drink freezes over during the meal. I have touched on maybe less than half of the book. I need to read it again, but I need at least a year to recover.

I read two interesting food & cooking books this month. One is called Chef's Fridges (Moore and Solomon), which is full of photos of the insides of fridges and sometimes freezers, with brief interviews with each chef about how they eat at home, and one or two recipes from most. There were a couple of "produce clear out" recipes that really appeal to me, and a mug cake from Milk Bar I will definitely try, but I was more engaged by the fridges. There were some intriguing repetitions (I was delighted to see that the Virginia mayonnaise brand Duke's is recognized as the best beyond where it's usually stocked), and I enjoyed reading about the variety in approaches. A couple who have a fridge each to keep their experiments separate, and a woman who bought the smallest fridge she and her wife could find, so they'd use less energy and buy fresh daily. A very successful chef who cheerfully talked about Lunchables being a favorite meal, and another with local bear meat in his freezer. I took issue with some remarks I considered snobby, and I wish more chefs of color were included, but this is fun!

The other is My Everyday Lagos, by Yewande Komolafe. She is a highly accomplished chef and food writer who has written for most of the top food magazines and columns in America, and worked all over it; you may well have encountered her work before. I'm not very familiar with Nigerian food (I've made jollof rice from a dry mix a couple times), and Komolafe strikes an excellent tone of knowing what will be familiar to an American audience, but prioritizing talking about the ingredients used in Nigeria. Peppered in are brief, highly memorable passages of context, talking about her time as an undocumented immigrant because her culinary school made a mistake, reflecting on how a vegetarian dish is not always the same as a plant-based one, and how sweet foods differ across cultures. Great.

I took advantage of a couple days of particularly good hearing to tear through audiobooks of all four novellas I was missing from Ben Aaronovitch's Rivers of London series: What Abigail Did That Summer, The Furthest Station, The October Man, and Winter's Gifts. I'm a big fan of this series and am so glad to fill in these adventures. Just one is narrated by the usual magician-detective pov character, Peter Grant. The others star his teenage cousin Abigail, and his professional counterparts in Germany and America, Tobias and Kim. I like all of these characters quite a bit, and the cases were delightful as always. The October Man was particularly smart and freaky. Winter's Gifts was a little less immersive than usual, because as an American I caught some oddities of Aaronovitch's choices and voice actress Penelope Rawlins' pronunciations that didn't strike me as quite right for Kim.

I also started filling in shorts and detours of Gail Carriger's interconnected steampunk series. I only finished The Curious Case of the Werewolf That Wasn't before the month ended. It's the earliest entry in the timeline, and unfortunately it's pretty insubstantial. It also focuses on a character I'm not gripped by--Alessandro Tarabotti is an important catalyst, but he's also a dick with negligible goals.

And lastly, I devoured the new Julie Murphy and Sierra Simone Christmas romance, A Holly Jolly Ever After! There were a couple plot threads I wish had been given more of a finale, but it's funny, moving, and full of STUFF happening. Especially recommended to people who grew up in religious purity cultures, Winnie pursuing independence and sexual fulfillment is thrilling and cheering.

[mattsvn]

Nostalgia.

Iwaizumi Hajime x fem!reader

Summary: A summer after graduation finds Iwaizumi Hajime halfway across the globe, sitting in a lecture hall and staring at a golden dome that reminds him of the world and his place in it. Or, the lack thereof.

Genre: Slight angst to fluff. Character introspection, self discovery!

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: none.

A/N: Guess who’s crying :smiley: Okay, so I got inspired by this tik tok, check it out, show the artist some love, and adding to another idea I had this came up, I hope you guys like it!  ALSO, that beautiful summary was suggested by @meliorist-midoriya​ !!!​ Repost from my old blog, this is on my favorite fics ever written hehe

There is something distinctive about the traces left by people in the places they inhabited. Whether intentional or not, to enter a house that was once occupied is to step into an unknown life, where all that remains are the lines drawn on the wall frames, with random dates, leaving a record of someone’s growth.

A part of the wall with a lighter color, where photographs once hung and the trace of old drawings on the wall could be seen even if you paid close attention. Seeing the home you had lived in for years empty, lifeless or without its distinctive smell caused an ache in your chest that you couldn’t describe, how was that atmosphere created again, with spotless walls, perfect floors and the lack of human warmth?

You weren’t afraid of living alone, you were afraid of having a lonely life.

It was frightening to think that the apartment you had just bought might feel like it was inhabited by a ghost, with no trace that anyone had ever been there. One way or another you wanted to make that space, with only two rooms and one bathroom, feel like your home, even if it was just you, even if you would only live there for a few months.

So, amidst the worry about establishing a home and hundreds of paperwork, came the first day of college, one more step to adapt to, the breaking of a routine you had just begun to create.

There was no better way to start that school year than by being on time, so, at least for the first week, you tried to be there early enough. It gave you time to get through the school buildings, and to finish your coffee just before the first class started.

Thursday arrived, with the first class being Medieval Art, not usually a subject that caught the attention of many, so it was common to see empty seats. Still, as usual, you were planning on choosing the seat right next to the window, where the sunlight illuminated your notes, but that day, it seemed that someone already occupied that place.

You sat next to him, there was no reason not to share the table, didn’t pay attention to him, it seemed that the boy was taking a nap a few minutes before class, probably he had a class before that one, or he was just tired. The teacher settled into her seat, and you glanced sideways, only to see that the boy was still asleep, not moving.

“One day, the architect, Frank Gehry said: architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness” she began, while behind her appeared the image of a building you had heard too much about. “I think one of the best representations of this is Hagia Sofia” she continued, showing the image of that beautiful golden dome behind her, she kept talking.

As the guy next to you opened his eyes, sleepily he took a deep breath, concentrating on the image in front of him, with some concern he took the supplies from his backpack to take notes for the class, he seemed lost, confused and, in general, tired, like he was there by mistake, or, against his will.

Iwaizumi was not usually like this. Before moving to the United States, he had never been late for a class, he was the type of person who kept everything in order, always punctual, with notes in order and an impeccable grade. A role model in every sense of the word, student, athlete and perfect son.

But as soon as he arrived from his flight, tired to the bone and affected by jet lag, he slept as much as he could, only to wake up in the early morning, stunned by the different time zone he could not fall asleep at the right time, he still couldn’t get used to the food offered there, and he was unable to find the ingredients he would commonly use in Miyagi to eat.

People drove on the left seat, and the road was on the right side, they used to eat on the street without any concern, or on the way to their jobs and schools, nor did there seem to be manners in public transportation, at least no the ones he knew. There were words that confused him, and the symbols on the streets made his head spin.

People did not have the same habits he knew, and he noticed that after only a couple of days after moving in. By the time school started, Iwaizum was still trying to sleep at the time he was used to and didn’t make it until two or three in the morning, so, it resulted in waking up late and sleeping in between classes, he still wasn’t used to having his notes in English, so his handwriting looked weird, the teachers spoke too fast for him to understand, therefore, his notes were all over the place

Not to mention how unpunctual they were, he found himself a couple of times arriving late to class, only to find out that the teacher wasn’t there, and that it would probably take them twenty minutes more to arrive, and sometimes, they would cancel the class when you were already there, just because.

Even in the classes he looked forward the most, he found himself tired, bored, easily distracted, and he expected the same from this one, a subject he had taken only to complete his units. But, when he opened his eyes, he swore he had never seen anything as beautiful as that. A gorgeous dome of gleaming gold, with light streaming in through the windows and the distinctive marks of history on its walls.

It took him a few seconds to listen to the professor properly, as he was still impressed with what he saw on the projector, there was nothing that did not interest him, from the columns to that painting of the Virgin Mary, an impeccable marble floor, and, the mixture of both religions on its walls was perhaps what left him most curious of all that he had seen.

There was nothing like that in Japan, or at least not that he remembered. Byzantine architecture had that distinctive feature in which it left you mesmerized for a moment, he was so enraptured by it that he didn’t notice that there was someone sitting next to him, taking notes of the things the teacher was saying, with a slightly frown, concentrating, and different pens scattered around the table. The teacher continued talking, still detailing how a building created almost fifteen hundred years ago remained one of the finest constructions in human history.

Hagia Sofia, she read from the blackboard. He wrote down the title in a slightly disorganized way, along with the rest of the words on the board.

Hagia Sofia, meaning: holy wisdom. Constantinople, now Istanbul.

“Long before what we now know, the Byzantine Empire took place in what is now Istanbul, the capital of this empire is perhaps one of the most important historical and architectural sites of the Medieval Era, this was the largest known church  for about a thousand years. It has been used as a church, a mosque and now serves as a museum.” She explained, showing the various images of the building. ”There were two later constructions after this, one destroyed in a fire and the second in the Niká riots, then, in the year 532 construction began on what we now know as Hagia Sofia.“

"Wow” Iwazumi sighed, absently sketching the shape of the building.

“I won’t tell you much about this building, at least not for now,” said the teacher, pausing for a moment to look at the picture. “I want an essay on this topic, and I would like you to gather in pairs for it.” she asked them. “I just want your opinions and analysis on the things that are most important to you about the place and what you think is meant to be represented by these, either imagery or architecture. Your partner will be the person who is closest to you, starting with the two of you, at the bottom.”

You looked at Iwaizumi out of the corner of your eye, having to work with people you didn’t know was always a problem, but, you hoped it wouldn’t be like that this time. He also looked at you, a little relieved thinking that you would surely know something about Medieval Architecture, not like him, who felt totally lost in that new subject. Even so, he returned his gaze to the front, memorizing every detail of that dome in his mind.

The class continued, with the teacher talking about historical processes in the fifth century and the topics that would be taken throughout the course, Hajime could not help but see the excitement that certain topics caused you, especially with the mention of some gothic buildings. And so, in the blink of an eye, the class was over, and before he realized it, you were already grabbing your things to leave.

“My next class is Historical Theory, what’s yours? We can organize on the way” you said, looking at him for a second while you closed your backpack. Iwaizumi tried to put his belongings away as quickly as possible, but failed a bit with his clumsy movements. “What’s your major?"

"Oh, Sports Science,” he replied. Your reaction was as expected: confusion, what was a sports science major doing in a medieval art class? “All the other classes were busy and I needed some extra units.”

“Oh, I see” you nodded, walking out of the classroom with him walking beside you.

“What’s your major?” he asked, feeling somewhat embarrassed that he hadn’t asked that before.

“Art History” you replied, with a smile. “By the way, my name is y/n” you said, extending your hand, he received it, still not used to the way people introduced themselves there, but little by little he was starting to adjust to it.

“Iwaizumi Hajime” he cleared his throat, here they speak by first names, not last names, you idiot, he said to himself in his mind. “Hajime.”

“So, Hajime, you didn’t organize your classes on time, you take naps before class, and you don’t know anything about Medieval Art” you jokingly commented. “We have quite a bit to learn, don’t you think?”

“Uh… y-yes” he nodded, stopping when you did, not even realizing how far he had walked. “I won’t let you do all the work, if that’s what you’re worried about” he assured, it seemed they were in front of the door to your next class the moment you stopped and looked at the door, Iwaizumi didn’t want to take up your time, but he had no idea what to say either.

“Well, how about we meet in the library later this week? You can give me your number so we can schedule the day” you hoped the professor wouldn’t come to the classroom while you were talking to  Iwaizumi, as he seemed like a very nice person, despite how nervous he was.

“Sure, I have the whole afternoon off tomorrow, is that okay?” you nodded, extending your phone to him so he could write down his number and name, to your luck, he returned it just in time.

“Sounds perfect to me, I’ll text you as soon as my class is over” you said, saying goodbye and entering just before the teacher, who closed the door behind himself.

Iwaizumi stared at the door for a few seconds, letting out a sigh,then, he walked to his next class. It felt awfully strange to walk around campus alone, with no one by his side. Maybe he had gotten too used to spending his free time with the rest of his friends in highschool, and, at times like these, where he was waiting for a message from a cute girl, he couldn’t help but think about how much he missed them.

He was alone, and that was terrifying.

Iwaizumi looked at his phone for the third time in an hour, the class, food chemistry, was just short of making him fall asleep, yet he couldn’t help but look at his phone and wonder at what point the cute girl in the Medieval Art class would send him a message.

She didn’t until almost four hours later, just as Iwaizumi had recently returned to his apartment and was working on a long assignment for the rest of the week. Ignoring the sound of a message at first, thinking it was probably Oikawa bugging him about some new thing he learned in Argentina, so, he didn’t look at his phone until a couple of minutes later, when a second message came through.

“Hi! Sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner, I’ve been a little busy, but this is my number!”

“My last class ends at 2:00 p.m., do you mind if I meet you at that time in the library?”

He answered almost immediately, regretting later for doing it so quickly, you look like a desperate idiot, he thought. To his luck, as soon as he locked the phone, the screen lit up again with the reply.

It seemed that after that things flowed perfectly, even though before he met her they would have seemed like inconveniences to him, now they looked as an opportunity. The professor for tomorrow’s class informed them that he was out of town, so his classes would start until the following week, which gave Iwaizumi a chance to continue with his homework calmly, and, to get ready to see the pretty girl the next day, maybe even sleep properly that night.

However, nothing went as he planned.

Again, he found himself staring at the ceiling at midnight, without any possibility of being able to fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to work. That wasn’t his bed, nor his sheets or his favorite pillow, it wasn’t his wall or the window overlooking his backyard. As he stared at the empty, flat ceiling, he wondered why he couldn’t at least see a golden dome so he would have something to think about while he tried to sleep.

And so he woke up quite late, much later than he was used to. Maybe his body took the opportunity to recover all his lost energy, he had no idea. The only thing he knew was that he woke up thirty minutes before the agreed time with the pretty girl, and, it took fifteen minutes to get to the library from where he was.

He sent as many messages as he could while getting dressed and trying to look as presentable as possible. At least it wasn’t strange to see people running around campus, although it was in the first few weeks of school, where no one was really worried about anything.

“I told you I could wait a while” you mentioned, Iwaizumi was standing in front of her, trying to control his breathing, visibly agitated for having run all the way to the library. “Tell me you at least ate something” you murmured, in a way to accept his apology, then he sat on the free seat in front of you, trying to avoid that questioning.

“I can eat something later, sorry I was late” he apologized, again, he expected you to be upset, but you weren’t, instead, the first thing he saw was a reassuring smile, you hadn’t been more than ten minutes late, so, there was really no problem. “Again, I’m sorry, I was…”

“You don’t have to apologize, Iwaizumi. You were only ten minutes late, I’ve known people who take an hour to show up” the boy looked at the table for the first time, it was almost like the mess she had in yesterday’s class, only now it had several open books around it. “My class ended early so I went ahead to research an assignment I had, don’t you want to go get something to eat before we start?”

“I’d rather do this and then I can eat something, I wouldn’t want to waste your time even more” he replied, it was too obvious that he still didn’t quite master English, or maybe he did but he was quite embarrassed about how it was that he pronounced things. “I’ve never had this happen to me before, I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay? Seriously, but why are you late? If you say it doesn’t usually happen to you” Iwaizumi looked towards the window with a frown, he felt like he would spend an embarrassment for that, because, sleeping late was not a good excuse, actually, nothing was a good excuse for his lateness, but still, he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re coming in with a hangover?”

“No, no, not at all. It’s just… I’m still not used to the time change here and I’m used to sleeping at a totally different time” he said, though there was more to it.

The insomnia was only a collateral result of how he felt, and perhaps what kept him most irritable. Perhaps he had chosen that change too quickly, or the feeling was probably something that would fade with time. But he couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t quite connected to reality, like he was living a strange dream. The routine he had worked on for years that kept him safe was gone, and was now out of his reach.

He missed going out every Tuesday for lunch with Oikawa, Makki and Mattsun. He missed walking to school and greeting his neighbors, or the way Oikawa’s older sister squeezed his cheeks, even though he said how much he detested it, he missed the karaoke he went to once a month and his mother’s food, hell, he even missed Oikawa’s obnoxious nephew.

“So, where are you from? Moving is hard enough, I can’t imagine doing it from another country” he looked at her, realizing she was genuinely concerned and curious, she meant it. The sincerity brought him calm, enough to say what he felt.

“Japan, I just got here a couple of weeks ago, I still don’t understand much and my English isn’t the best so I’m not having the best time” he pointed out, as he picked up his notebook, watching as she jotted something down on the computer, adding a document to start the essay. “Not to be rude, but your culture is really weird.”

“You don’t have to tell me, it is. But you end up getting used to it, don’t you? I find people’s behavior patterns depending on their culture interesting” Iwaizumi hadn’t even noticed that there was already a book on Byzantine architecture on the table, which showed a picture of Hagia Sophia from the outside. “Besides, it’s normal to miss your hometown, don’t you think, what did you most like to do there?”

“Playing volleyball with my friends” he answered without hesitation, for it was true. He missed every detail of it, from the practices, to the coach yelling at his teammates to the games, even the ones he lost.

“Oh, were they on a team together?” she put the computer aside, devoting her full attention to him. Iwaizumi nodded, ready to talk about all the amazing things his team had. “Were you guys good?”

“Well, yes. At least within reason, we were. We never made it to nationals, but within our prefecture we were very good” he nodded, still feeling the bitter taste of defeat on the tip of his tongue as if it had happened yesterday, his last chance to go to nationals ended before it even started.

“And what position did you play?” he questioned, Iwaizumi picked up the book on the table solely to have something to distract himself with.

“Uh, wing spiker. I was the ‘ace’ of the school, but of course, I couldn’t be any of it without Oikawa."

"Oikawa?”

The conversation did not stop since then, between readings, corrections and stories about his high school, Iwaizumi did not even realize that almost three hours had passed, three hours in which he could not believe what he saw in images, despite all the fear he had, all the nostalgia that accumulated inside him, seeing that building in Constantinople brought him a peace that he could not manage to understand, no matter how much he wondered what was going on.

Although it didn’t compare to how the pretty girl explained things, he should probably stop referring to her as the pretty girl and start calling her by her name, as he ended up forgetting it, and every time she said his name, he blamed himself for not remembering hers. He learned everything he wanted to know in one afternoon, thanks to her, the semi domes, the atrium, every detail, structural and artistic there, he memorized it with her voice, melodious, calm, safe.

After making a couple of questions, he lost his fear of asking what he was seeing, because, as she told him, “no one knows everything, there will always be someone who knows something you don’t”. So, he ended up engaged in a conversation about the wonders of medieval architecture and no more than ten minutes later, the conversation drifted to the karaoke that his friends loved, or the park where he and Oikawa learned to play volleyball.

Life at the university became more bearable thanks to her, Iwaizumi heard the story of how she had just moved out of her parents’ house, how they also moved out of their house and the pain it caused her to leave the home she loved empty. She enjoyed knitting, watching movies and listening to new music all the time. In a couple of weeks, he discovered her favorite food, and the kind of clothes she liked best, the movies that made her cry and the ones that made her die laughing, and with each thing he learned, she asked him the same questions. Even though he wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to answer, or what people used to say, it made him wonder if he seemed like a nice person or someone who would be interesting to spend time with.

Tuesdays of going out to eat became Tuesdays of organized movies in the dorms, once-a-month karaokes became visits to museums instead of his neighbors, now he was greeting his roommates every morning, now the cute girl in Medieval Art class was the one squeezing his cheeks, it seemed that, little by little, everything was starting to be as he knew it.

Or at least that’s what he thought

“But what do you like, Iwaizumi?” she asked him on a sunny afternoon where sunlight illuminated her room and there was a random movie on TV as the background noise, around her a lot of snacks and fried food, that’s what Saturdays were like, relaxed and sunny. “I almost feel like I know Oikawa like you do, but you don’t tell me much about yourself.”

“Huh?” he asked, doubtful, hadn’t he been talking about himself all that time, or had he only thought he was? “I don’t know what you want to know about me.”

“I want to know who you are, beyond all your friends and the people in your life.I know what Oikawa likes and how many fans he had or the perfect settings he did, but I want to know about you.” she told him.

She didn’t know if it was because the girl was an art enthusiast, or if she just hadn’t met someone who wanted to know more about him for her own pleasure, for what she felt was inexplicable.

“Well, well… with my team” he began, stopping the moment he saw the look on the girl’s face, who could only thus make him feel as if he were a scolded child. He sighed, running his hand through his hair, confused as to what it was he should say.

“Who are you, Iwaizumi, what do you like, what song do you like the most? I don’t want to know about other people, I want to know about you, about what makes you who you are.” She began, the moment only seemed more special with the way the sun was shining on her skin and her smile seemed to shine even brighter than it always did. “I know you’re a good teammate, a good son, a good friend, but who are you, what are the qualities that you have?”

He looked into her eyes, how many times hadn’t he stopped to look into those beautiful eyes that stole his breath, or those lips that said the cutest yet most painful things?“

"Iwaizumi. I want you to tell me the story that you have, like Hagia Sophia, do you remember all the marks that it has? the mix of everything that lies in you? There is so much history in who you are beyond your friends, I want to know if you are happy or if you like ice cream, how you react to things. I hope you understand me, it’s okay to like things that your friends do or showed you, but I don’t think it should be all that you are, so, who are you?”

Still not taking his eyes off her, he remembered every detail of the building he studied for weeks, the religious motifs and art on its walls, the history even in the broken parts of the floor, or those portions where the paint was completely gone. And, with tears in his eyes, he replied:

“I don’t know.” He murmured, his voice trembling.

And he really didn’t know, he had lived so long being a friend, son, teammate and neighbor that, little by little, without realizing it, he stopped prioritizing the things that to him and only to him made him happy.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do about it” she murmured in the same way, very close to him as if she were telling him a secret. “Find out who you are.”

And just like that, the first picture of the two of you decorated your wall, along with some paint smudges from a sunny afternoon, a canvas, and some brushes, and a volleyball mark at first. Two wrongs can make a right, your mother would say. You, in search of rebuilding your space, and he, in search of himself.

You couldn’t have picked a better time than that, or a better life than that.

taglist: @sugas-sweetheart @kirislut @hannahalanib1 @goopyartiste @yee-harr @ohno-grapes @peach-pops @meliorist-midoriya @milktyama @majestic-sea-flip-flop @starlessnyx @tanakasimpcorner @msbyslugg @ordinary-ace @boosyboo9206

[manonblaqkbeak]

Group Hang

..........me again. i haven’t written in so long and it feels good to start it up again. this time it’s a human au. just fluff and aelin’s bad cooking and rowan defending her bad cooking because he actually likes it

3083 words

When Aelin had suggested a dinner at their house for the next group hangout, Rowan was more than happy to accommodate that suggestion.

The last hangout was bowling, and while Rowan excelled at many sports, bowling was strangely not one of them. He almost got banned from the local one when he started swearing his head off when his last bowl was close to becoming a strike when it veered to the side and didn't knock down a single pin.

All their friends behind him starting laughing, Aelin too, when he started going on about how the floor was uneven, the game was rigged and just had a general hissy fit that he never had in his entire adult life.

To be fair, he had one too many beers and it was hot as hell in the bowling alley, the air conditioner barely working that night. So he blamed those conditions on his attitude.

To make it worse, Aelin had managed to snap a picture of him sulking in his seat, posted it on her Instagram with the caption 'when your old man sucks at bowling and comes last'. Rowan hadn't realised it until the morning when he woke up to dozen of notifications from people tagging him and laughing.

Apparently, according to his comment, Fenrys saved the picture and made it Rowan's contact photo. With others saying that they were going to do the same.

Even Lorcan, the stoic bastard, had found it funny.

Aelin laughed at his expression as they laid in bed together, and laughed harder when he sputtered, “I'm only five years older than you!” and fucked her with the vigorous strength of a thirty year old healthy man (Aelin had never climaxed so hard, which made Rowan puff up with pride afterwards, with Aelin rolling her eyes, even though her blood was singing in her veins and a dopey grin was on her face—it was her her secret joy to ruffle Rowan's feathers whenever she could).

So yes, while the aftermath of the bowling night was much better than his losing, he was more than glad to have a quiet night at home; although his friends weren't really the quiet bunch, especially when Aelin, Lysandra and Fenrys had one too many.

However, what he wasn't expecting when he and Aelin went grocery shopping that Saturday morning was when Aelin claimed that she was going to be cooking.

Now, Rowan loved Aelin, loved her so much that he had started planning the night he would propose to her, but the thing about Aelin was that she couldn't cook—at all.

But he grew to love her cooking; came to love the burned crunch that always accompanied it, came to love the under-cooked and overcooked food, loved the dryness of what she piled on his plate when it was her night to cook, the lumpy and misshapen cakes that she made whenever the desire to bake came to her.

Aelin was skilled in many things and cooking was just something she completely sucked at—like Rowan and his bowling. Truly, he didn't mind, although it did stump him how she managed to ruin a sandwich when she sometimes made his lunch for him for work.

Unfortunately, their friends were not him. Dorian, Gods bless him, still went on about the time Aelin accidentally gave him food poisoning on his twenty-first birthday with the homemade cake she gifted him.

Which was why Rowan was the cook in the relationship. His father was a chef and while Rowan wasn't as good as him, he knew enough to cook well and how to present food on a plate.

While they started their weekly shop, Aelin claimed that she was making lasagna, and Rowan was all ready prepared for the under-cooked pasta sheets, salty marinara sauce and overly milky Béchamel sauce and dry mince meat.

He offered to help but she said she would be fine. They continued their shop, with Rowan always appreciating the sight when she had to bend over to pick up something, with Aelin in turn appreciating the sight of Rowan's muscles moving smoothly when he reached for something on the high top shelves.

So here they were, hours later, Rowan watching Aelin as she moved around their kitchen, adding things in from time to time (he was fairly certain he saw her dump some cinnamon in the mince meat, but didn't say anything). She did ask for his help to stir the Béchamel sauce as she made her homemade salad dressing (which would more than have too much olive oil in it, but again, Rowan didn't mind).

He noticed that the sauce was lumpy and on closer inspection, realised that it was large chunks of onion (and why were there large onion chunks? Because she was wanted an obscene amount of onion, she said when he asked about it).

It smelled good though when it was all done and his stomach grumbled as it rested on the kitchen counter, with Aelin rushing to have a quick shower.

Her quick shower always meant twenty minutes, but Rowan tidied the kitchen as she showered and placed the store-bought garlic bread in the oven when the doorbell rang.

Sighing at the incoming whining that would occur when everyone realised that Aelin had cooked, Rowan trudged over to the front door, painted a beautiful shade of Terrasen green.

Rowan barely opened his mouth to greet everyone before they made themselves at home—Fenrys holding a large pink box from Nesryn's bakery, but the woman wasn't in the group, she had a dinner with her fiance's family tonight.

What did surprise him was Yrene's curly head as she walked in with Chaol, the man's hand wrapped tightly on his walking stick as the couple made their way inside. Yrene was a nurse at Terrasen hospital and worked insane hours, so it was a nice surprise to see her.

Dorian and Manon walked in, the latter holding three bottles of Dorian's fathers expensive wine (which either one of them probably took without asking), her black diamond engagement ring sparkling even at night. Dorian claimed that he stole it from his father when he was a teenager and he never even noticed, apparently his father didn't bat an eye when he saw the ring on his future daughter-in-law's ring finger.

Elide and Lorcan followed Lysandra and Aedion, the dark haired man having to duck slightly to walk inside.

The only people missing, other than Nesryn and Sartaq, were Vaughn and Connall—but he knew that the last two were now working night shifts and that it would be hard to catch up with them from now on. Nehemia too, as she was currently on vacation visiting her parents.

Aedion sniffed at the air as they all made themselves comfortable in the lounge room. “Where did you guys order from? It doesn't smell too bad.” And truthfully, the food did smell good—that was something that surprised Rowan about Aelin's cooking, that while somehow everything tasted bad, it always smelled like it came from a five star restaurant.

“Aelin cooked lasagna,” he said and all eyes turned to him, “and there's plenty for everyone,” he added, before any of them could make some flimsy, bullshit excuse about how one of them should maybe order a pizza.

“What do you mean, she cooked?” Dorian asked, eyes wider than everyone else's. His tone implying that she somehow managed to create a radioactive bomb.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “I mean, she's been in the kitchen all evening preparing a dinner for all of us, so you better shut up and eat it, is what I mean when I say she's cooked.”

The timer went off for the garlic bread so Rowan went into the kitchen, but before he did, he deliberately locked the front door, making sure everyone watch him do it.

He wasn't about to let them upset Aelin just because she was a bad cook.

“Yrene, do you have, like, a food poisoning kit on you, by any chance?” Dorian asked.

Yrene snorted. “No, Dorian, you'd have to go to the hospital for that.”

“Oh, Gods,” he cried.

“Dorian,” Chaol sighed, having witnessed many moments of Dorian acting like he was minutes away from dying. “You're twenty-five now, and you're not dead. I'm certainly not, and I dated Aelin for a year.”

“Yeah, when you were eighteen and she was seventeen, I don't think she even went near an oven at that age.” Dorian and Chaol were Aelin's oldest friends, as well as Elide, so they would know.

“I can hear you, you know,” Rowan said from the open kitchen, cutting the garlic bread in equal slices.

“It's okay,” Fenrys said, smiling. “I've got cake from Nesryn's and Manon has good wine, so tonight will be salvageable.”

Rowan pointed the knife at his friend, silently telling him to shut up.

Aelin chose that moment to exit the bathroom, her towel wrapped tightly around herself. Her smile was warm as she smiled at everyone and greeted them. “I'll be done in a couple of minutes, so everyone sit at the dining table. Rowan, could you see to the serving?”

“Of course.” She quickly came over to place a kiss on his cheek and rushed for the bedroom. Everyone went to the table, Dorian acting like he was walking to the electric chair, Manon rolling her eyes at his theatrics.

The glass dish was still hot as hell, so Rowan walked over carefully, hands wrapped in giraffe oven mitts, Lorcan snorting at the sight.

“Shut up,” Rowan muttered as he placed the dish down, took the mitts off and started cutting up the lasagna. He plonked down the slices, pointedly looking at everyone as he did so (except Yrene and Chaol—the young nurse saying that she's had worse cafeteria food, quickly throwing a no offence when she realised what she said, and Chaol, like he had stated, he had Aelin's food before and was fine—joking that his spinal injury was from a freak accident rather then from Aelin's cooking).

Dorian still didn't look happy, and Fenrys was frowning at his plate. Elide poked at it with her fork, Manon inspecting it with narrowed eyes. Lorcan was stoic as always.

“I swear to the Gods I can smell cinnamon,” Lysandra said. “Rowan, did Aelin put cinnamon in this?”

Rowan shrugged and acted like he didn't know.

Sitting down, Rowan looked at his friends and said, “I know Aelin's cooking isn't the greatest—”

“She's definitely not winning any prizes in the future,” Aedion muttered but promptly shut up at the scathing glare that Rowan sent his way.

“But she's been in the kitchen all evening, as I said before, and she's really excited for you guys to try it. It may be under-cooked and dry, but you if you cannot even afford the common decency to offer her respect after making everything from scratch and act like adults instead of sulking children, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave. And Dorian, do not bring up food poisoning for the rest of the night."

Rowan got mumbled apologies, with the man feeling like a scolding father, but they all sat up straight as Aelin entered, dressed and her hair thrown into a messy bun.

They all dug in, and as expected, the lasagna sheets were under-cooked, the Béchamel sauce a little too milky and far too onion-y, the marinara sauce too salty and there was definitely a hint of cinnamon in the meat, but everyone ate it, with Lorcan claiming that it wasn't too bad—which was high praise coming from him, but then again, it could be a lie, he was fairly good at that, something Rowan knew from experience. The salad did have too much olive oil, but the dressing was nice.

Dorian, though, still looked like he was being sent to his death, but ate his food, only lightly gagging once. Aelin didn't notice, thankfully, too caught up in her conversation with her cousin about the upcoming Whitethorn family reunion that she and Rowan were expected to attend. They both had mixed feelings about it since Rowan had a large family and he couldn't stand a number of his cousins and everyone would bring up his dead parents, whose death still hurt even after ten years, as they passed away suddenly. Aelin wasn't looking forward to it, since one of his cousin's was dating his ex-girlfriend Remelle and Aelin could not stand the woman for multiple reasons.

Everyone ate everything on their plates and once the wine was emptied and the cake reduced to crumbs, everyone left, thanking Aelin and Rowan for their hospitality and everyone starting to suggest what the next night out would be as they left.

Aelin and Rowan cleaned in tandem, Aelin changing into her stag pyjamas as Rowan had a quick shower himself (which was actually a quick one) and soon joined her in bed, kissing her cheek as she settled in for the night, picking up his current read.

After long minutes, Aelin said, “I heard what you said to everyone.” Rowan's eyes snapped over to hers, finding Aelin lying on her side, a soft smile on her face. “Is my cooking really that bad?”

“Not to me,” he said truthfully. “I like your brand of cooking.”

“Even the burnt toast?”

“Especially the burnt toast.”

Aelin leaned over and kissed him on the lips, once, twice, three times. “I can't believe that Dorian still goes on about the food poisoning. I think he'll still be going on about it when he's on his death bed.”

Rowan snorted at the imagery that popped up. “He probably would.”

“I have to admit that I liked how authoritative you sounded,” Aelin said, “it turned me on more than it should have.”

Rowan ran a hand up and down her arm. “I'll have to use it more often then.”

“You will,” Aelin agreed, leaning in to kiss him again. Aelin snuggled into him, tucking her head under his jaw with Rowan wrapping his arms around her.

Rowan was on the verge of drifting off when he felt Aelin placed her chin on his chest. “Rowan?”

“Hmm?”

“Rowan, will you marry me?”

He woke up at that and found Aelin's blue and gold eyes shining brightly in the lamp light. “Pardon?” was all he could manage.

Sitting up, Aelin placed a hand over his heart, Rowan's hand covering hers instinctively. Giving him a beautiful smile, the one he fell in love with, she said clearly, “Rowan, I love you so much that I can't even put it into words how much I love you—but I do know this; you're my soulmate and I don't ever want to be away from you. I love you with everything I am. So, Rowan, will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?”

Tears filled Rowan eyes as he looked at the woman he loved with everything he had. “Of course, I will.”

Crying happily, Aelin launched herself at him, kissing him wildly, wrapping her arms around him. Until she suddenly pulled away and almost fell off the bed in her haste to reach for the velvet box she had hidden in the bottom draw of her nightstand.

Inside it was a gold ring, inlaid with a brilliant ruby and engraved in the band were the words 'to whatever end', their promise to each other.

The ring fitted him perfectly and Rowan sat up, capturing her face in his warm hands as he kissed her, their tears falling.

Pulling back, Rowan gave her a smile and went to his own nightstand and showed Aelin the velvet box he had hidden away. Aelin gasped in delight at the sight of it, a wide blooming on her face as he opened it and saw his mother's gold and emerald ring.

Also engraved in it were the words 'to whatever end'.

Aelin was sure she was going to die from pure happiness.

“Aelin, I love you more than anything. I'm so glad I met you in that dingy gym all those years ago. And I don't ever want to be away from you, too. Will you do me the honour of being my wife?”

“Yes, of course, yes,” she said, crashing into him again. Rowan's fingers shook as he placed the ring on her finger. “Thank you for loving me and all my bad cooking.”

Rowan laughed heartily and kissed her soundly. “Thank you for loving me and all my sucking at bowling.”

“You really are bad at it,” she said, laughing.

“I know,” he agreed, kissing her.

This was better than any idea he originally thought of when he started thinking of ways to propose. And it was perfectly Aelin that she proposed first, considering that she was the one that asked him out first all those years ago, to say 'I love you' and to ask to find a house and be Adults together with a mortgage and everything it entailed.

And in the morning, after a rare sleep in, she called her parents and told them the news, Evalin barely able to get any words out as Aelin told them how it happened, even Rhoe, who was a bit of a stoic man, teared up at the story.

They went to their favourite cafe afterwards, getting a slice of chocolate cake on the house as Aelin told their regular waitress their news.

They went to the local garden, after visiting his parents grave, with Aelin snapping a picture of their jewelled hands, the sun making their rings sparkle in a brilliant glow and posted it on her Instagram with a simple caption stating, 'We both said yes'.

Rowan posted the same photo, the first he had in months, since he didn't post often, and he much preferred the streams of congratulations that came their way, their phones soon blowing up with calls after calls.

And as the the sun shone brighter on the beautiful day, Aelin let loose a snorting laugh that had her choking when Dorian pleaded, “Please don't bake your wedding cake. I really don't want to be sick on your special day, I'll feel like an arsehole.”

Rowan promised that she wouldn't and laced his fingers in his fiance's hands as they went to his car towards their home, deciding that last night was the best group hang that they ever had.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Impersonal, Ch. 7

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, Rated E

The game had ended and he wasn’t surprised.

He expected this. He prepared himself all day Saturday by running six miles, jacking off twice, and mopping his entire apartment. He didn’t even own a mop; he actually went out and bought one. By the time Sunday morning rolled around he was ready for the inevitable collapse of their precarious sexual arrangement and greeted Scully with aplomb.

And then she paid for breakfast.

That was unexpected. When the FBI wasn’t footing the bill, they usually split the tab, or threw a “you can get the next one” down on the table alongside crumpled bills.

He had been joking about it being a date, but then she paid. And it meant something. Her big blue eyes pinned him to the booth, had him trapped and squirming like an insect on a card as she laid a hand over the check. “I’ve got it,” she said, and his senses were suddenly ignited. He could feel thick sunshine pouring over them, lighting up Scully’s hair like a smudge of cinnamon. Her lips looked so sweet and soft, and the very idea that he might never feel them again stole his breath. He felt dry and empty, a desiccated housefly body lying on a windowsill.

He thanked her for breakfast, and his throat was lined with dust.

Their parting was weird. Hinting that he was still available to her was an insane risk, and she turned it into a joke about Frohike. Unless she actually thought he was the one joking about Frohike, which he has to admit wouldn’t be out of character for him.

He’s tired of joking, tired of hiding, tired of dancing around his intentions. Tired of wanting and not asking, tired of being in his own damn way.

Scully has given him a graceful exit, a neatly drawn map back to their pre-sex starting point. And not for the first time, Mulder wads up the map and tosses it aside. Scully made her move; it was time for him do the same.

What that move would be, he has no idea.

It takes him eleven days. No wonder Scully took matters into her own hands the first time around. Inspiration strikes him during his drive from Alexandria to D.C. the next Thursday morning, when he crosses the Potomac and gets a glimpse of faraway blossoms.

He waits until 4:47 that afternoon to say anything.

“Hey Scully, you doing anything tonight?” he asks, rifling through a stack of papers as though he’s attending to FBI business and not trying to work up courage like a schoolboy.

Her glossy red head is bent over a file, pen at her lip. “Besides folding an obscenely large pile of laundry, my schedule seems fairly empty,” she replies. She looks up at him suspiciously. “Why, Mulder?”

“No reason, really. There’s just something I wanted to show you, get your opinion on.”

“Is it related to a case?”

He opens a desk drawer, pretending to look for something. “Well it could be a totally natural phenomenon, but who can say for certain without proper investigation?”

Scully sighs. “Fine, I’ll bite. And speaking of bites, I’m starving. If we’re going to work off the clock, can we at least eat?”

“Wanna stop for Chinese? We can take it with us. We’re not going far, the food should still be hot when we get to our secondary location.”

They take Mulder’s car, picking up several cartons of food from a restaurant in Chinatown a few blocks up from the Hoover building before making their way towards the National Mall. Mulder parks in the lot near the Washington Monument.

“You weren’t kidding when you said we weren’t going far,” Scully says, gathering up the bag of takeout. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“That,” he replies, pointing ahead.

Hundreds of cherry trees line the Tidal Basin, their leaves almost entirely obscured by tufts of blossoms. Scully steps onto the path, open-mouthed.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs.

Mulder shoves his hands in his pockets. “Pretty fantastic, huh?”

“Mulder,” she says in awe, looking sideways at him, “What are we doing here?”

He shrugs. “I just wanted to see them.”

“At night?”

“Daylight’s for tourists, Scully.”

———

They’re sitting on the damp grass, endeavoring to split the last egg roll using only their dueling pairs of chopsticks.

“This is impossible, Scully. I’m going to use my hands.”

“Then I definitely don’t want the other half,” she says.

“Are you implying something about my hygiene?”

“I’ve seen some of the places your hands have been, Mulder.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Not what I meant,” she says softly. “But the point still stands.”

Mulder lays back on the lawn, his long coat fanning wide. Scully pulls an edge of it towards her, scoots closer so she can rest her pantyhose-clad calves on it instead of the grass.

“I’ve always preferred the blossoms at night,” he says. “There’s something ghostly about them, all pink and white against the dark sky. Not an ominous kind of ghostly, however; if good spirits exist, I think they’d look like these trees. You know most early European religions feature some sort of reverence for trees or forests, whether as spiritual gathering places or deities themselves-“

“Mulder.”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to eat that egg roll, or can I have it?”

He passes her the carton. “And-”

“Why did you bring me here, Mulder?”

He glances at her and is surprised to see a tenderness in her eyes. His gaze returns to the branches above.

“I just figured I owe you a nice trip to a forest, and this one won’t require any paperwork.”

Scully smiles. “That’s a very considerate choice, Mulder, especially since I’m always the one doing said paperwork.”

“You’re more succinct and readable than I am, apparently. And Skinner clearly likes you better.”

“Didn’t you punch him in the face once?”

“That’s beside the point. I think he has a bit of a crush on you, Scully.”

She rolls her eyes. “What?” Mulder asks.

“I just… it’s nothing, It’s been a long day. And it’s cold out here.”

Mulder sits up and withdraws his arms from the sleeves of his overcoat.

“No- Mulder, don’t, I’m fine.”

“Move your legs,” he instructs, pulling the edge of the coat out from under her. He stands and drapes it around her shoulders before plopping back down on the grass next to her.

“Thanks,” she says. “Still, it’s getting late.”

He glances at his watch. “It’s seven-thirty on a Thursday. You got somewhere to be?” His arm bumps her shoulder companionably. “Come on, just a little longer. Maybe we’ll see something unidentified in the sky.”

He grins at her and the corner of her mouth twitches in reply. “Well, I guess I don’t have a choice,” she sighs. “You drove us here.”

He feels a slight increase of pressure against his arm and realizes that Scully is ever so slightly leaning into him. A gentle warmth glows in his belly, and he glances sidelong at her.

I’m a lucky son of a bitch, he thinks.

“How so?” Scully asks.

Oh. He said it out loud. He clears his throat, tries to steer his thoughts back into safer waters.

“Well, for one thing, I’m not dead,” he says. “Not for lack of trying.”

Scully nods solemnly.

“I’ve seen incredible things, things people spend their whole lives looking for, hoping for, believing in. I’ve tasted proof, held the truth in my hands. And in spite of everything, I’m still here. We’re still here. That’s pretty goddamn lucky.”

“I don’t feel very lucky,” Scully says softly. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve fucked up every good thing I’ve ever had a chance at. My father certainly thought so, at least for a long time.”

They sit silently for a moment. “Without you, I’d be long dead,” Mulder admits.

“I know,” Scully replies. “I’m always awed by your resilience, actually. I can’t take all the credit for your continued survival.”

“Yeah, you can,” he says, getting to his feet and dusting stray blades of grass off his slacks. He holds out a hand and helps her to her feet. Her fingers are cool against his palm, and he wonders if she’d notice if he didn’t let go. Probably.

He wants to pull her in by the lapels of his coat, gather her to his chest, hold her for no reason other than he can. Kiss her brow, smell her hair, feel her small hands sliding under his suit jacket. He wants her just as she is, for exactly who she is.

But he’s a chickenshit, so instead he just walks beside her along the Tidal Basin, under the cherry blossoms, and doesn’t hold her hand.

They spend the five minute drive back to the Bureau in comfortable silence. Scully leans her head against the car window, and Mulder briefly wonders if she’ll fall asleep. He loves when she nods off while he’s driving; it makes him feel safe. She makes him feel safe.

He parks a few spots away from her car in the Bureau parking garage, turns off the engine. Scully gathers up her briefcase, leaving Mulder’s coat draped open on the passenger seat.

“Why are you getting out?” she asks, seeing Mulder unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I need a file from the office,” he lies. He exits the car and goes around to her side. “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s on my way.”

It’s twenty feet from her car to his. “Thank you, Mulder,” Scully says sardonically, fishing her keys out of her coat pocket. “If I weren’t armed, that would have been very thoughtful of you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies. He takes a step forward.

“What are you doing?” Scully asks, one hand on her car door, keys in the other.

“Nothing,” he replies quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” God, she’s so small, this could so easily go wrong-

He pitches forward, bending down, and presses his lips to the fullness of her cheek. His nose brushes the soft skin under her eye and he inhales sharply, drawing back.

They blink at each other. “Bye,” Mulder offers.

Scully nods. “Yes. Goodnight.” She glances to the elevators. “Was there actually a file you needed?”

He just looks at her, and she presses her lips together in understanding. “Right. Well, I’m leaving, so… see you tomorrow then.”

Right. Despite recent events, the earth was still spinning.

Later, when he hangs his overcoat, he notices the faintest scent of her shampoo on the collar.

[bqstqnbruin]

three times he said he loved you + one time you actually heard it

I have not written for him since Thanksgiving so this was nice, I must admit. But I did this as part of the Summer Fic Exchange put together by @hockeynetwork​ ! I really did love this and I high key hope you do something like this again.

So this is for @broadstbroskis​ I hope you like this!

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

One

“I don’t really understand why we’re having the entire damn town over at our house when half of it still needs to be packed up and the other half is boxes,” you say, trying to maneuver through the mess of your room, making way to your bed while Nolan follows the same path as you.

You flop down on your bed, trying to tune out the noise of your parent’s friends saying goodbye to them when they only let you have one friend over, and that was only because Nolan’s parents were also friends with your parents. “Probably because parents need an excuse to get drunk and it’s more socially acceptable when it’s with a group of people instead of by themselves,” he says, lying down next to you.

The two of you lay there in silence. Neither of you had really accepted the fact that you were moving away because of your dad’s job, and neither of you wanted to accept it, either. But now, you were leaving in about a week, some of your stuff already shipped to the new house that your dad bought, your transcripts sent to Harriton High School in Lower Merion, Pennsylvania, and your life starting over at age fifteen. 

“What do you think it’s like there?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“My dad must have gotten a really nice job because the new house is, like, twice the size of this one.” 

“Really?” he asks, sitting up. “I want to see it. Get your computer.”

“Ok, bossy, give me a second.” You find your laptop, pulling up Google maps and typing in the address. “It’s this one.”

His eyes go wide, jaw dropped. “You’re joking! This is huge! Can I move with you?”

You laugh, desperately wishing that you could tell him yes. “I think you need to stay here. Something tells me if you come with us, your chances of making the NHL wouldn’t be very high.” You take in a deep breath, Nolan exploring the area around your new house while he mutters about how he can’t believe that you’re leaving to begin with. “Wouldn’t it be great if you got drafted by Philadelphia or somewhere close so I could see you?”

“I don’t even know if I’ll get drafted.”

“You will. I know you will. In 2017, I will be sitting there, glued to my TV, watching you get drafted. You’ll probably go top ten, maybe top five if you get really good really fast,” you say, putting your computer away. You dodge boxes, praying that you don���t trip on anything. You have no idea where anything was at this point, despite labeling everything. “God, I need this stuff out of here.” 

You sit back down next to Nolan, your knees touching. Your parents had a rule that you weren’t allowed to date until you were sixteen. Nolan knew that, you knew that, everyone in your school knew that. Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if your parents didn’t have that rule, would the two of you already be together? Not that it mattered now with you moving to Pennsylvania and all, but hypotheticals are always fun to think of, aren’t they?

Nolan actually had it all planned. The night of your sixteenth birthday, right at midnight, he would call you on your cell and ask you out. He would take you out to a movie, dinner, and then walk around the city, assuming your parents would let you do all of that. Now that you were moving, his chance was gone. 

“You really think that I’ll go top five in the draft?” 

“Maybe. I think you can be a top five prospect if you work towards it enough.” 

He looks like he’s about to say something to you, his eyes going between your own and looking down at his hands. He can’t stay still, his cheeks getting the classic rosy pink shade that you would tease him for constantly, knowing that you were the only one who he let do it. He finally takes a breath to say something, only to be interrupted by a knock on your door.

Your mom opens the door before you can answer, you trying to move away from Nolan a little so she wouldn’t get suspicious. She was the one who made the no dating rule, even if she loved Nolan like he was her own son. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she says, obviously lying, “Your father just finished everything on the grill, you kids should come down to eat.” 

Nolan gets up from your bed, pretty much running out. Your mom stops you, gently pushing you back into your room and closing the door behind you. She gives you that look asking for an explanation. 

“What?” you ask her, trying to pretend like you don’t know what she’s about to ask you. 

“What were you doing up here?” she asks, folding her arms.

“Do you want a play-by-play or a summary?” you ask her. Every time she saw you with Nolan, her first instinct is that you were breaking her rule about dating and were actually seeing Nolan behind her back. You couldn’t help but get a little irritated when she asked you the same question each time: what was going on?

“Give me the Sparknotes.” 

“Showed him the new house, complained about moving, did the same thing I did when Sammie was over, too,” you told her, referencing one of your other friends. She cocks her eyebrow, the signal that she doesn’t believe you. “Go ask Nolan!” 

 “I know you’re upset that you’re leaving him but there are other-” she starts, trying to reach out to touch your shoulder.

“Please, do not finish that sentence. Mom, come on. Nolan is my best friend, of course, I’m going to be upset about leaving him. You’re moving me to Pennsylvania where I have three years to start over and make new friends only to leave them to go to college. Can we please go down for food, though?” you ask her, trying to get past her, “I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

She looks at you, trying to figure out if she believes you. “Go ahead,” she says, gesturing to your door. You move past her, Nolan still waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“There were too many adults for me to fend this alone,” he says when you reach him. 

“Where are your sisters?” you ask him, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the kitchen. 

“Outside?” he guesses, handing you a plate as you both start to pile on the food. Around you are your parent’s friends, talking, laughing, enjoying the time as if you weren’t about to leave them forever. Nolan can see the sudden shift in your mood; whenever you start thinking about moving, you always get upset, “Hey, let’s go look out back,” he suggests, leading you through your house to the back porch. 

Outside was quiet, the sun just starting to set and making the sky brilliant colors of pink, orange, blue; everything that you loved about living away from a city that you wouldn’t get living twenty minutes from Philadelphia. “I can’t believe we’re leaving this,” you say, sitting down in the grass. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Nolan mutters. 

“What?” you ask him, snapping your attention away from the sky and to him. He’s looking down at his food, pushing it around his plate. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” he says, still not looking up. “I said I can’t believe you’re leaving, either.” He didn’t want you to leave at all. Slowly, everyone started to come outside to enjoy the sunset, all the adults screaming and being unnecessarily loud. ‘Just say it,’ he thinks to himself. He was going to regret it if he didn’t. “I love you,” he blurts out, just loud enough for you to hear it over the commotion. And he meant it. He really did love you, as more than a friend, he thinks he always has.

You look at him and smile. “Yeah, I love you, too,” you say, thinking he meant it as just a friend. Part of you was happy the two of you weren’t dating. Having to break up would be a lot harder and leave him would be a lot harder than it was now. 

Two

You were ecstatic to be back home, even if it was for the wedding of someone you weren’t really close to. It had been almost three years since you were last in Winnipeg, and when the opportunity came up for you to visit, you had to jump on it, having to beg your parents to let you go back home without them. You hadn’t seen Nolan since you moved, other than through Facetime. He was getting ready for the draft that was weeks away, obviously stressed, and according to him, only going to the wedding because you said you were about to go with him. You were staying at his house, sharing the room with him, much to your surprise that his parents even let you. 

“Why did I agree to go to this with you?” Nolan whines as you struggle to zip up your dress.

“Because you missed me and this was the only way you would be able to spend time with me,” you tell him, turning your back to him. “Come zip me up?”

He gets up off his bed, one of his hands finding the small of your back to hold on to the base of the zipper, pulling it up slowly as he held his breath. You were nearly 18, now old enough that the dating rule your parents had set was done. If you hadn’t lived in Philadelphia now, he was sure that you two would be celebrating your two year anniversary soon. Taking you as a date for this wedding was probably the only time you would ever be each other’s dates unless by some miracle he ended up in Philly, or you ended up in whatever city drafted him. 

You’re also holding your breath, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you think it will make zipping up the dress easier for Nolan, or for some other reason. You hear him mutter that the zipper is up, turning around to face him. He was already dressed in his suit, his hair styled in just the right way so not a strand was out of place. He looked amazing. “You look,” you start, trying to find the right word, “Great.”

Looking at you, he couldn’t find a flaw in your appearance. He knew the flaws that made you who you were, but he didn’t mind them. He had always liked them. “Uh, so do you,” he stammers out. You could feel your heart beat faster, and he could feel his own doing the same. You both swore the other could hear the beat as you got nervous just being around each other. You looked so good with the clothes you had on, but you couldn’t help but think about how you would look with them off. 

“We should get going,” you finally let out after what felt like the longest moment of silence between the two of you. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we should.” The two of you leave his room, calling to his parents on your way to let them know not to wait up for you. Something really was about to happen just then, wasn’t it? No. You were overthinking it. Everyone loves a well-dressed person: you were just getting swept away by the suit, the same thing would have happened if you saw anyone else in a suit. 

Nolan was driving to the venue, not saying anything. He was freaking out about how he could have just kissed you at that moment, but he blew it. He should have just kissed you. What if he did tonight? Would it be better to kiss you and have you leave, or to not kiss you at all for you to still leave? Either way, you were going to leave him again. Part of him thought that he would see you again. Somehow, you would both end up in Philadelphia, he just wasn’t sure how. 

The wedding goes by without you even paying much attention. You seemed to just follow whatever everyone else was doing, standing when they were standing, trying to talk if everyone else was talking. You were focused on Nolan the entire time. He looked so good in the suit, and you could not get over it. You get to the reception, seeing a lot of people you grew up with somehow having grown up a lot more than you expected. 

“Y/N!” You hear someone squeal. You turn around to see Sammie, running towards you and Nolan. Nolan tries to dodge her; she had always liked him, but he was never interested in her as more than friends. He slips away to get food just in time. “I’ve missed you so much!” she says, pulling you in for a tight hug. “You’re here with Nolan?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess he’s my date for tonight?”

She pulls you over to an empty table, plopping you down at the seat next to her. “You know, I’m pretty surprised you two never got together,” she blurts out.

You look at her, confused. Nolan has always been your best friend, and that’s all. No matter what you felt about him, you couldn’t risk something like that. “No way,” is all you can manage to get out.

“Oh, yeah. So many girls at school have been trying to get with him, but no one’s succeeded. During the wedding, I saw the way he looked at you. If heart eyes were an actual thing, that boy would have them for you.” 

“Again, no way. He’s my best friend, that’s all.”

“Best friends fall for each other all the time,” she sings, shrugging. 

“Hey, do you want to dance?” Nolan asks, startling you.

“Yes, please!” you say, thankful that he saved you from more interrogation. “Thank you,” you say as he leads you to the dance floor. 

“You needed saving,” he says, taking your hands and starting to sway with the rhythm of the music. 

“My hero!” you swoon, making him laugh. The two of you move in perfect sync like the song was made for you. The room around you melted away and it became just you and Nolan. It felt like a scene from the movie, where everything goes dark and the spotlight is just on you two. You weren’t saying anything, your head on his chest as he pulled you in once the song changed to a slow song. You could feel his heartbeat, noticing it getting faster even though everything else around you remained steady. 

The DJ came over the speakers to announce the arrival of the new husband and wife. You and Nolan move off the dance floor, Nolan standing behind you, his hand finding it’s place at the small of your back again. They start their first dance as a married couple, and you suddenly can picture yourself doing the same. You’re in a dress that fits you perfectly, flawless makeup, not a hair out of place, dancing with the love of your life. You see yourself with, you aren’t sure who. You feel like you’re standing off to the side watching yourself dance with Nolan. 

You wanted it to be Nolan. You weren’t sure if it was being at the wedding, or if it was a feeling you had been repressing this entire time. You look up at him and smile, him beaming down at you. You put your arm around him to pull him in for a hug. You couldn’t tell him how you felt, though. Not with you leaving so soon to go back to Lower Merion. 

Neither of you could tell that you were thinking the same thing. Nolan wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and resting his chin on your head. You reached up to meet his hands, holding them there as you settled into his embrace. If he could tell you right now that he loved you, he would. But he couldn’t help but wonder what he would do if you didn’t love him back. 

Three

The day Nolan got drafted felt surreal. You couldn’t believe that he was going to be coming to Philadelphia, the same city you moved to, the city you were going to stay in for college. The day he actually arrived in Philly didn’t feel real either. You had helped him move in, and honestly, you spent more time in his place than you did at your own.

Neither of you had admitted that you had feelings for the other. There was no way you could. You were practically living together, you being Nolan’s first friend outside of his team when he first moved to the city. You couldn’t ruin what you had, so you just pretended like those feelings didn’t exist.

“Where are we going tonight?” Nolan asks you as you take over his bathroom to get ready for the night. 

“Somewhere called Brew Pub in Manayunk.”  

“Why are we going, again?” he moans. He leans back on his bed, having a direct view of you getting ready. You were doing your mascara, not that he had any idea what else you still had to do. He never really knew why you wore makeup, he didn’t think you needed it at all. 

“Juliette said it was a good place to meet Saint Joe’s and Nova boys. You know, all the right private schoolboys from Nova and then their less rich counterparts from Saint Joe’s,” you say, messing up your makeup.

“What could that possibly mean?” 

“Could not tell you. Apparently she just likes Saint Joe’s boys.” You try to fix your eyeliner, not succeeding. “Shit!” you say out of frustration, “Why do I look like this?” 

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Full of questions tonight, aren’t we? And, I don’t know, I just feel,” you hesitate, trying to find the right word, “Ugh.”

He gets up from his bed, wandering into the bathroom to stand behind you. “How could you feel ugh?” 

“I don’t know. I’m in a mood. I don’t like how I look,” you admit, shrugging it off. “Whatever, I just need to finish this eyeliner and we can get going. Is Travis meeting us here or there?” 

Nolan stays standing behind you, not listening to the questions you’re asking as you keep talking. God, how could you not understand how beautiful you are? Every time he pictured his perfect girl, he thought of you. He really did love everything about you, right down to your annoying pen tapping when you’re thinking about something. How could you not see yourself the way he saw you?

“Nol?” you ask him, snapping him out of whatever trance he had fallen into.

“Sorry, what?”

“You never answered if Travis was meeting us here or at Brew Pub?”

“Oh, sorry, I kinda spaced. He’s meeting us there.” 

You turn around to look at him, your makeup done, but it was him with the blush on his cheeks. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he lies. Why has he waited so long to tell you anything about how he feels? “I was just thinking about some drill from practice. I was having issues with it.” 

“Eh, don’t worry about it right now. There’s nothing in hockey that you haven’t been able to get eventually. Tonight, let’s just go out, drink a little, flirt with some people, and then come home.” 

Flirt with some people. Yeah, like he actually wanted to flirt with anyone besides you. Not that he actually did flirt with you; something about you he felt like he couldn’t, like it would cross a line or something. You guys leave for the bar, not saying anything while Nolan stays on his phone telling Travis to get there as soon as he can. He’s not sure he can really handle seeing you flirting with someone else. He wasn’t even sure if he had before. But if he was about to see that, then he needed some sort of bonehead energy to keep his mind off of it.

‘I’m waiting outside already. There’s a pizza place across the street, can we go?’ Travis sends back.

‘No.’

‘Once we’re drunk?’

‘No.’

‘Smile Pat?’

‘No.’

The entire ride, you were sitting there, trying to figure out why he went radio silent since you left. The only thing you could do was let him talk when he wanted to. You knew better than anyone that if you tried to force him to talk when he didn’t want to, he would shut down completely. You get to the bar, trying to find Juliette in the small, crowded bar, losing Nolan and Travis completely. 

“Ok, so I’ve seen a few slightly attractive guys but I’m not drunk enough yet for me to find them very attractive, but I figure if we sit down and flirt with them enough, we can get a few drinks from them,” Juliette starts rambling, dragging you directly to the bar to have you start flirting.

Nolan and Travis had found their seats at the other end. Nolan couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you talked to the guy seated next to you. 

“Why aren’t you there next to her?” Travis asks him. 

“What do you mean?” Nolan asks, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

“She’s there, flirting with a guy, probably intending on at least getting a drink or two from him, and you’re here watching him talk to your girl.”

Nolan looks at Travis, the look on his face telling him to cut it out. “She’s not my girl.” He looks back at you, watching you flip your hair over your shoulder, laughing and reaching out to touch the guys arm. His heart started racing at the sight of something so simple. He takes in a deep breath, “I’m in love with her. Have been since I could understand what love is,” he admits.

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Same thing I’ve been doing. Not telling her.” 

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to mess up what I have with her.”

“That’s dumb.”

“If you drop this, I will pay for that pizza across the street, I will buy the whole place if it means we can drop this.” 

“Fine,” Travis says, throwing his hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say.” 

+one

You groan as your alarm starts to go off, rolling over to try to find your phone and shut it off. You didn’t even remember turning an alarm on for today, so why was it even going off in the first place? Finally finding it after haphazardly feeling around your nightstand for it, you groan even louder when you see that it wasn’t your alarm, but Nolan calling you, instead.

“You really changed my ringtone so it would be the same as my alarm, you jackass?” you answer, mentally cursing yourself for even letting him know your passcode in the first place. 

“Good morning to you, too,” he says. You can hear cars passing him by, indicating that he was somewhere on the street in the city. “I’m going to be over in twenty minutes and we’re leaving when you’re ready.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” you ask him, pulling your phone away from your ear to check the time. “You woke me up before the sun rose on a Saturday for what reason?”

“See you soon!” he says, his tone sounding weird with his deep voice. He hangs up before you can protest. You put your phone back on your nightstand, rolling back over to fall back to sleep. The door to your apartment was locked; Nolan wouldn’t be able to get in without a key, and there was no way either of your roommates were up to be able to let him in. “Get out of bed!” you hear someone yell, jumping on your bed. You must have fallen back to sleep, only for Nolan to wake you up, somehow breaking into your home.

“I’m calling the police,” you say, throwing your pillow over your head.

“Yeah, like that will do anything. But I told you to get up!” he says, taking the pillow off your head and ripping the covers off from on top of you. “We’re going out today, come on.”

“How the fuck did you get into my apartment?” you ask sitting up, eyes barely open. 

“Alex lent me her key,” he says, pulling you out of bed. “Now get ready.”

“I can’t go out with you if I’m about to kill someone,” you say, rifling through your drawers anyway. “Where are we going?” 

“It’s a surprise.” 

“Then I can’t get dressed and we’re not going.” 

“Yes, we are.”

“Then what do I wear?” 

“Wear something nicer, but bring a sweatshirt because I know you’re going to be cold at first.” You shoot a glare in his direction, picking out patterned shorts and a plain tshirt, pulling out one of his sweatshirts that you stole from him. “I’ve been looking for that!” 

“Get out,” you say, pushing him out the door so you can get dressed, “Make me coffee.” you shut your door, locking it so he can’t come back in while you’re getting ready. What did this boy have planned? 

While you get ready, cursing him both mentally and loud enough that he could hear you, Nolan fumbles around your kitchen trying to make you enough coffee to hold you until you got breakfast. He had the whole day planned for you, something spontaneous enough that you would have no idea what was coming. Travis had helped him figure it out, starting with watching the sunrise on Boathouse row, heading to the Art Museum and walking around, and then going to Sabrina’s for food. He had your favorite snacks in his car so you wouldn’t complain, a map of the museum marked with things that he thought you would like, and a reservation at the cafe so you wouldn’t have to wait at what would be a very busy restaurant for hungover Drexel and UPenn students. 

“That coffee smells so good,” he hears you say, causing him to jump. For someone who had just been woken up against their will, you looked stunning. He was so excited for this; you had told him that you had never been awake to see the sunrise, and he knew that the day he finally told you he loved you had to include that. “Can you please tell me where we’re going?” you ask a still speechless Nolan. 

“You’ll see,” he says, handing you your coffee and walking out your door. All of him was nervous. How does he tell his best friend that he’s in love with her? And what if you don’t feel the same way? 

“The sun hasn’t even come up yet, what could we possibly be doing?” you whine again, sipping the coffee. “It better involve food or I’m going to be very upset with you.”

“You’re already upset with me so what else do I have to lose?” he asks, trying to control the shaking in his voice. “And stop asking, you’ll find out when we get there!” he insists, hoping that you’ll stop for the time being. You end up dozing off again, Nolan stealing glances when he can as he drives to park at Fairmount Park. “Hey, Y/N. Wake up.”

“What?” you mumble, stretching as he wakes you up again. “Where are we?” you open your eyes, looking down the street towards where his car is facing. “Kelly Drive? Why are we at Boathouse Row?” 

“Come on!” he says, already pulling you out of the and running down the street. You keep going until you’re past the boathouses, far enough away that the sounds of college rowers are in the distance as he sets out the blanket you didn’t know he had. 

“You’re unusually happy to be up this early, what’s going on?” you ask him, sitting down next to him. What could he possibly have planned. 

“Will, you just shut up and look?” he asks, pointing you in the direction of the sun. 

“Oh, wow,” you let out, looking as the sun rose over the trees, lighting up the Schuylkill sitting in front of you. “You took me to see the sunrise?” you ask him, not looking away as the sky turns from the deep purple to a brilliant orange. 

He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, turning them more pink than normal. He watches you as the sun makes your face glow. Everything about you was perfect, from your hair that you had thrown up into a messy bun so that you could get ready faster, to his sweatshirt that you were wearing because you loved that it smelled like him. He couldn’t help himself, “I love you,” he blurts out, his eyes wide in disbelief that he actually said it. 

Your head snaps to him, finally breaking away from the sun. There’s no way he just said what you thought he did. “What?”

“I love you. And I have been trying to tell you since before you moved here. I always have loved you, and part of me thinks that I always will.” 

“Nolan,” you start, thinking he was done.

“And you don’t have to say that you love me, or anything really, because I’m just kind of springing this on you, and-” he continues to ramble, acting completely out of character from his usual quick and snarky behavior. 

“Nolan,” you try again, hoping that he’ll stop.

“This wasn’t even the way I wanted to tell you, even though this is what I think might be the third time that I’ve actually told you,”

“Nolan!” you yell, finally getting him to snap out of his rant and look you in the eye. “You love me? Like actually love me.”

“I thought I said that,” he says, starting to panic. Did he just go into a rant for no reason? 

“I mean, like,” you start, trying to figure out what to say, “You love me, too?”

“Too?” 

Without thinking, the sun finally peaking over the two of you as Kelly Drive starts to get more busy with runners, rowers, bikers, and families, you take his face in your hands and kiss him. Your lips move together in sync as his hands find your back, pulling you in closer to him. When you finally pull away, not bothered by the fact that multiple people probably just saw you, you look at him, the blue eyes, rosy cheeks, his hair in a state of disarray. “Too.” 

[tg-headcanons]

Do you have tsukiyama headcanons? c: (about shuu, or about the family in general, or even about shuu's mum cuz they never talked about her much)

Ooooo!

Their family owns a LOT of shit, so much materials and money that if there’s a ghoul safe space, the Tsukiyama’s almost certainly have a hand in it, if not own it outright. Providing some accommodations to other ghouls is the one real act of charity they do. This includes everything from doctors to cafes to hotels that are meant for them, but the promise of safety can only be spread through word of mouth

Since their family fucked up their genes with Alabama shit, they can’t become kakuja. Because of this, digesting ghoul meat is difficult and can give them food poisoning, but this doesn’t stop them. They’re like lactose intolerant people but instead of milk it’s RC, they keep eating it knowing damn well what will happen.

Shuu doesn’t actually like coffee, he just drinks it to look cool

Mirumo is weird as shit but everyone’s used to it. Screaming out of his window for seemingly no reason? Eh that’s normal. He shoved papers he no longer needs into a hedge and walked away? It’s fine there’s servants for that. He’s laying face down on the floor in the middle of the hall? Well it is Wednesday

Kanae is a trans man. As simple as that. Ghouls are accepting and it’s really a non-issue, but sometimes humans will make rude comments about it. Those humans are all dead now.

As caring as the family is towards other ghouls, they don’t see humans as equals. They interact with them only out of social obligation or hire one or two as servants in mean games of “how long will it take them to figure us out?” Before they kill them. It’s not uncommon for them to purchase humans at the auction as meat or short lived pets

The only human any of them respect is Chei, and they sort of have to because Shuu practically adopted her like a feral cat. She genuinely has no interest in exposing anyone so they do their best to make her comfortable when she’s over. They even bought some food, but since they have no idea what humans like it’s comprised of raw eggs (they don’t have any stuff to cook with), some apples, frozen shrimp, a shaker of oregano, a bag of chips, and caprisuns. They tried their best, but Kanae’s expertise is in hunting, not grocery shopping

Shuu’s mother died when he was very young from an autoimmune disease for which there was no ghoul safe treatment for at the time. It’s that that motivated her husband to invest more in hospitals and medical research. It was years later that a ghoul safe treatment was made, most people weren’t sure why the Tsukiyama family would spend so much money making another weird brand of a medication that already exists, but it saved countless ghouls. Mirumo hopes that it’s a good way to honor her memory

Shuu doesn’t remember much about his mother aside from sharing meals with her, so he’s always held food a little sacred

Kanae was there for almost every stage of Shuu’s life and has seen so many humiliating stages, notably his horrible music taste and some very regrettable fandoms he was heavily involved in in middle school. Kanae doesn’t drink often, but when he does, he is an open book of information that would destroy Shuu. It’s this way that the other servants learned about his early teen infatuation with blood on the dance floor and he’s made it clear that if anyone talks about it he’s killing them

Shuu has a spray bottle full of vinegar with his name on it at Anteiku for when he refuses to stop being weird to Kaneki. He hates the smell and it’s an effective deterrent

Sometimes Mirumo will invite his son to scream out of a window with him. Father-son bonding at its finest

All ghouls, regardless of class, will get into cuddle piles. Mirumo and Shuu can tell themselves that they’re in a pile with their servants just to quiet their instincts all they want, but deep down they know they care about them

Kanae has the fashion sense of a 12 year old and if he isn’t put into one uniform or another he’s wearing cargo shorts, sandals and a hoodie

[ciggylungz]

Rivals

Summary: Y/n and Harry are both CEO’s of their parent’s companies since they inherited the businesses from them, they’ve been rivals since they were kids- now that they’re professional adults how will their rivalry affect them?   2.2k

 -

It’s no secret that growing up with a workaholic parent is hard for a kid, but for Y/n it was amplified due to the fact both her parents owned one of the most famous fashion companies in the world. This meant during most of her childhood she relied on nannies, private drivers, maids and child minders to care for her in absence of her busy working parents.

Of course having absent parents gave her some perks during her teen years, the ability to throw ragers in the absurdly large mansion they’d bought for the three of them –(well, they were hardly in it so mainly just their daughter)- not having to worry about getting caught when she decided to bring people over to get a quick shag in and the plus of having no one to bother her during her angsty middle school years. Those things were nice, yet you really can’t replace the role of your parents with teenage hookups and parties.

If there’s one thing that she absolutely hated about her parents work, it would be their former business partners cunt of a son. Harry Styles. Y/n had been forced to be in the twats life since they were 10 and his father joined stocks in her parents company before investing fully and becoming business partners. For Y/n that meant being forced to be around their son whenever their parents were too busy crushing numbers or out on boozy business trips clogging their noses with high end coke and buying out their competitors.

Harry was always a good-looking boy, and that only made things worse because he was a total prick. He was arrogant, annoying and always got away with being the biggest pain in the ass y/n has ever experienced in her life. He was insanely competitive, cocky and always found a way to weasel into Y/n’s business just to push her buttons. One’s he knew how to push perfectly to make her want to pound his head off a blacktop.

It was almost as if when it came to Y/n he never matured past being a 12-year-old boy, and now he’s a 23 year old powerful business man who still can’t manage to leave her alone.

Y/n had inherited her parents’ company when they decided to retire, two years before the retirement her parents and Harrys father had severed their ties and he’d gone back to his independent company. And just y/n’s luck, the man passed his roll as CEO down to his son, making the two young adults’ owners of two of the most famous fashion and beauty companies to ever exist.

Make no mistake, Y/n was a strong, independent and ruthless business woman so Harry’s subsequent inheritance didn’t threaten her in a business sense it more so made her worried for her blood pressure since the man couldn’t help but come bother her every chance he got. It didn’t help his dad had a single remaining stock left in the shoe portion of their clothing company giving Harry the perfect excuse to come barging into Y/n’s office to get on her nerves. To Y/n Harrys like a cold sore that won’t go away, just keeps coming back every time you think you’ve gotten rid of it.

___

Today was a busy day for Y/n, she had a meeting with her team that worked closely with her managing profit, stock, inventory, sales and all that stuff. Her team was large, with a company with over two thousand distributors worldwide and thirty-five exclusive stores scattered around the globe that’s to be expected. All in all, Y/n was responsible for making sure all one hundred and fifty thousand employees were running a smooth ship and every participating party was doing what they needed to do. It was a stressful job no doubt, but she never backed down from the challenge.

The meetings were always her least favorite part of her job. All the paper work that had to be read, numbers calculated, sales charted and any complaints or incident reports all had to be verbalized and talked about in detail with documentation of all the important things said as well as much more. Today the meeting took a grueling four and a half hours and the day was far from over.

Once she got out of her meeting it was nearing noon, she had to push her lunch off to phone the companies attorneys because one worker was trying to do a fake insurance claim. The man faked a work accident failing to remember every warehouse and factory was littered with security cameras that caught him in the act, so she had to inform them of the situation so they could sort it out. After that she got sucked into looking at new designs her design team had come up with for the next season, explaining that Chanel and Gucci both wanted to work with them to carry a few exclusive items only for that season.

Finally, at half passed two she made it back to her office, sitting down in her desk chair while taking her hair out of the headache inducing ponytail it had been in since she got there at five that morning. She opened her laptop, planning to send off some emails while she put in her order for lunch to her assistant, getting as much done as she could in the little bit of private time she was able to snag.

A knock sounded at the door, she knew it was Morgan coming in with the food she ordered so she didn’t bother to look up from what she was doing very drawn in to the email she was currently formatting. Only her attention was quickly severed when his voice rang out instead of the one she expected.

“I believe you ordered the chop salad, diet coke and fruit for lunch misses Yln.”

That annoying, cocky voice. You can hear his shit eating grin and teasing eyes simply in his tone, you don’t even have to look up at the jerk.

A prolonged sigh blew out of her lips, a grunt of annoyance following as she looked up at him. He looked nice, as always, she added bitterly in her own mind. She hated the fact someone so goddamn irritating was so undeniably attractive. He wore a dark blue suit, white button up with a black tie and yellow accent pocket square. Yet his fashion and handsomeness seemed a bit overshadowed by his personality that had the same affect on the woman as nails on a chalkboard.

“Harry, to what do I owe the displeasure?” Y/n reached her arm across the desk to snatch the paper bag from his ring clad hands, a sarcastic disapproving finger was pointed at her yet she didn’t take his bait opting to give him the death stare instead.

“Sassy today are we?” The man rested himself on the small leather loveseat that was in her office, propping his head on a throw pillow and putting his feet on the armrest. “You act like you’re not happy to see me, I know yeh missed me.” Y/n rolled her eyes, digging her fork into the salad aggressively. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been happy to see you, and I’m certain no one has ever missed your presence either.”

Harry chuckled slightly, loving how easily he could annoy the girl. Over the past thirteen years he’s learned just how to get under her skin, and he enjoyed doing so.

“Bit feisty today aren’t yeh Y/n? playing hard to get I see.” The man folded his hands on top of his chest, completely relaxing into the comfortable furniture, making himself comfortable for the undetermined amount of time he’d be spending there irritating his childhood ‘friend’.

The difference between Harry and Y/n’s perspectives on their rather odd ‘relationship’, if you could really call it that is Harry never hated Y/n. In fact he was always quite fond of her, he enjoys her company even when he’s forcing it on her and using the shared time to annoy the ever loving shit out of her. He and the woman have always been competitive growing up. In sports, card games, classes, and now business and Y/n took things a lot more seriously then he did. she was always wound a bit tight, she gets it from her mother.

Harry and Y/n had an interesting past. They have a love-hate relationship, seeing as even through the perpetual animosity they’ve carried since they were kids they did have their good moments too. And though Y/n would never admit it, there’s a part of her that does actually care about him even if she loathes that part of her deeply. In their teens they were at each other throats a lot, but in between that they would occasionally have their good days where they would refrain from getting into screaming matches and instead would be able to tolerate being together. Y/n chooses to describe it as tolerating him since she’d never admit she sometimes enjoys his company.

Through their formative years whenever Y/n was throwing a party, she wouldn’t protest when her friends would invite Harry as well. Pretending like she didn’t know he was coming and didn’t want him there when she saw him in the crowd, yet he always had a feeling she was anticipating and secretly wanted him to make an appearance. When he’d plan some sort of adventure with their friends he’d do the same, always slightly relieved when she’d show up but he’d put on the irritating act as soon as he got the chance which ruined her mood, every time. and well, it would be a lie to say the two never found themselves hate fucking each other after one of their parties, drunk and pissed at each other only to pretend like it had never happened.

To Harry, the animosity mixed with a hidden sense of fondness and maybe even a hint of attraction.

The woman ignored his comment, chewing her food before taking a swig of the soda looking back at him with a rather unamused expression. “What do you want Harry? And who the hell even let you in here?” she continued eating and wrapping up her email while he formed his reply. “Told Morgan I’d bring it up to yeh, she’s got a bit of a crush on me so she handed it over without much convincing.” Yet another eyeroll from Y/n was delivered. “She’s like 19, don’t manipulate her into worming into my office just because she can’t see that you’re a much bigger prick then the one in your pants will ever be.”

“First of all, 19 is legal so if she wants to eye fuck me I’ll allow it. Second, don’t be rude. This is a professional setting, do you think it’s appropriate to talk about my genitals in the work place? Might have to report you.”

Y/n couldn’t help the small snort she let out at his antics. As much as he annoyed her, sometimes she did find him a bit humorous. “and for the record, I’m very happy with my package and I don’t appreciate that comment.” He pointed a finger at her, a fake angry look on his face. “Just as much as I don’t appreciate you intruding on what was supposed to be my down time to eat, we’re even shrimp dick.”

Harry gasped at the insult, squinting at her slightly. While Harry was skilled in pressing her buttons, she could do it the same. Making comments on his dick size, sex skills, business deals or things of that nature always got him riled up. That 12-year-old boy mentality rearing it’s ugly head any time she makes a comment about his dick being small. Childish he was, absolutely childish.

“Don’t get smart with me, I’ll whip it out right here to prove my point.” His eyebrow raised and she could see him chewing on his cheek in annoyance. She truly found it funny how peeved she could make a grown man by making fun of his penis. He was ridiculous.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t, I didn’t bring my mental scrub brush to work with me today.” When she had finished speaking the woman tossed her now empty salad box into the trash, taking another sip of her drink and finally sending off the painfully long email.

Harry decided it was time for him to head back to his own office, which was right across the street much to Y/n’s displeasure but of course he couldn’t leave without a final childish jab at the woman.

“Just remember, I’ve had you bouncing on my dick more than once. Don’t hold yourself so high and mighty dear, because we both know I’ll have you like that again.”

And with that a Harry with a cheeky smirk on his face left the office, leaving a slightly stunned Y/n in his wake.

 (eek pt.1 lets see how this one goes.)

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

Simple perfection

| Prompt - Feeling their pulse | this prompt can be read stand alone but comes off with reference from this prompt. Check out if you'd like |

Voldemort had evaporated like ashes in the air, not a single shred of him was left anymore . There were cheers from all across the halls and people were jumping up and down with excitement, contentment, happiness. Some were crying tears of happiness, some reunited with their families, some were kissing and harry was there watching all of it. And then he saw the glimmering eyes towards him, the eyes that held hope after all, the eyes that held respect, eyes that were now filled with love. Wizarding world had won the war, harry had after 7 years fought voldemort and almost died in the process but killed him. They had won the fucking war.

Before Harry could've acknowledged what had happened Hermione had hugged Harry tighter than she had ever before and with tears brimming in his eyes, Ron had too joined along. They laughed and cheered him on, told him how proud they were of him. They loved him and he loved them too, after all they were now his only family left and that thought ached him but just for a little bit he thought, he could be selfish and cry in joy that they had won against Voldemort.

And then his eyes fell upon the blonde sitting in corner with his parents. He threw a vivid smile at Draco and he smiled back. Harry came back and Draco couldn't he more happy ,yet he was terrified.

The days flew a little faster than Harry would have anticipated. In the honour of winning the war , few people had stayed behind at Hogwarts while a few returned home. To harry, Hogwarts was home and he wanted to do anything to make it feel like home again. The reconstruction of Hogwarts started 2 days after the war and harry had suddenly grown very much in popularity. He was the most wanted man in Britain, in a good way.

He was probably walking back from Ms. McGonagall's office when he ran into Draco. Draco merely smiled at harry and walked away. The words shared between them before the war had somehow been forgotten but it has sure developed a relationship between Harry and Draco that wasn't hate anymore. It was only during the last week at Hogwarts when almost everyone had left and only a few had remained. Even Ron and Hermione flew back home and despite their offer to harry, he didn't go along with them. In the last week at Hogwarts, he realised only a few Hufflepuff had remained, ravenclaw's table remained empty , only Draco and few Slytherin's at the Slytherin's table and a few of Gryffindor's who Harry didn't really knew. He had been staring at Draco quite awful lot, he had presumed one of these days Draco would've bought up something about what happened before war but he didn't. Quite frankly Draco looked far more distracted than anything else. It's not like Harry didn't find himself lost in thoughts but Draco looked worse somehow, almost the same how he looked back in 6th year.

It was exactly 5 days before they would've left for home when Harry gathered his courage and went to Slytherin's table. As soon as Draco saw Harry, he flinched at first but calmed down right away.

" how have you been ?" They both asked simultaneously . They smiled at each other before Draco asked him to go first.

" i- I'm not entirely sure. There's a part which feels fine but then there's this part of me which doesn't. They both kinda co-evolve " Harry replied thinking wisely of what to say

" you ?" He added

" i- same as you I suppose " Draco gave him a little smile .

They both fell silent, maybe even enjoying the fact that in the silence they weren't totally alone. The fatality of the war had left them only with each other, it was quite surprising how neither would've imagined life would turn to be this way but the truth was, right now nobody understood them better than each other.

" i- I- you must be wondering why I hadn't came to talk to you after t-that night ?" Draco finally mumbled . Harry shook his head. He understood Draco, he understood the situations they were both in but only a cruel man would be selfish enough to not give the other time for themselves.

" it doesn't feel the same anymore, does it ?" Harry asked. Draco shook his head. Nothing felt the same anymore. Almost as if nothing was real, as if it was a dream they didn't wanted to be awake from.

" Harry-"

" Draco-" they chuckled at the occurrence of the situation twice . This time Harry let Draco talk first.

" I know it's a bit too early to think of this stuff but w- you deserve a little break from all of it. I understand you wanting your time alone but I meant what I said that night. I meant each and every word of it. To be honest I was a-afraid you wouldn't su-survive but now that you have I don't know how to tell you how happy I am that you have "

Harry smiled at him lightly " Draco, you too deserve a break. You were as much as in the war as I was, and yes I do deserve a little break and I'm glad you meant your words that night because then I - I wouldn't had been sitting here. I know we come from a lot of different backgrounds but we're humans right and I would like to continue what we started that night. Maybe stick to our words ?" Harry asked carefully

" I'd like that " Draco smiled after a moment.

" are you sure though ?" Draco asked with concern . Harry nodded.

Harry decided that he didn't wanted to take Draco out on a fancy date but he wanted to make it seem like it meant something. He didn't want any wine or drinks or a fancy restaurant to take him to a date because none of it mattered, all those things didn't make up for how he wanted to treat Draco. He wanted it simple because that's how it is supposed to be now. Simple.

Harry waited outside the Great hall at 4 for Draco who was right on time and they fled off to the destination of the date. It was simple just as Harry had wanted it. It was a small picnic at the cliff side what you could see from the astronomy tower if you looked carefully.

" this is -"

" breathtaking ?"

" yeah " Draco nodded.

They finally sat down at the sheets Harry had sprawled just before he had come to pick up Draco. He had put the statis charm on the food so it was still warm .

" how did you come across this place ?" Draco finally asked as they had settled in

" it was back in 5th year. I used to come here with Hedwig. When supposedly Voldemort had control of my mind I used to feel well deserted- more isolated from anyone, almost angry so i used to just come here and well spend time here. Somedays I even wrote Sirius letter's from here. It bought peace " Harry explained. Draco watched Harry intently as he explained and he thought if he could only Harry in sunlight, he might be able to see his eyes shine differently.

" I'm sorry about si- I mean your godfather"Draco gave him a small smile

" you'll run out of sorry's if you're going to be sorry for people who have died in my life" Harry answered. Draco frowned

" it isn't funny "

" yeah - I just heard it out loud and it sounded insensitive of me " Harry replied and chuckled soon after , Draco joining along.

" I can Only imagine what must it be like for you " Draco consoled

" i- thanks I guess " Harry replied furrowing his eyebrows not sure what was the correct answer to it.

They sat for a few moments in silence until Draco broke it

" it doesn't feel real"

" it doesn't " Harry turned a little over to see draco placing his hand over the side of his neck In a weird way

" what are you doing ?" Harry asked curiously

" checking my pulse if I'm still alive, If all of it is actually real. Seems-"

" too good to be true . I had that thought right before this too " Harry answered for him.

" if you're doing that, check my pulse as well" Harry chuckled. Draco jokingly checked Harry's pulse and soon broke into content laughter.

" I'm glad we did this " Harry said . Draco smiled and nodded .

" I meant what I said that day Harry. I never really hated you but I was just bought up to hate you , you know. Sometimes you watch and learn from people around your house to not do the same thing as they did and sometimes we copy their path. Me being stupid enough copied my parents. Don't think badly of me -"

" I don't Draco and you don't have to explain me anything. It's all in the past now. You've made some questionable choices and quite frankly I wasn't the most pleasant to you either. We both reciprocated that feeling of hating each others Gut " Harry shrugged it off as if it didn't matter and it didn't.

Draco wasn't used to this sort of relationship or this sort of understanding. He was bought up to believe money and power was everything and things like love didn't matter but this was different. Draco wanted to understand everything, even if it takes his whole life.

They watched the sunset together with small conversations but mostly stealing glances at each other and looking forward and maybe eating at some point.

" does it feel different Harry ? Now that it's over ?" Draco finally asked something he had been dreaming about questioning ever since the war had ended.

" i- I don't think it has quite hit me. It feels different, it feels better not being attached with Voldemort anymore but there's so many things I'm still scared off and there's so much to look forward to. It feels different but someday's it doesn't. Before this I knew my life's motive but now, I just don't know " Harry replied thinking twice before choosing his words. Draco watched him in content. This Harry was different, Draco thought. This wasn't the chosen one or the saviour of the world, it was Harry, just Harry and he could spend hours just looking at harry.

" does it feel different to you?" Harry asked him

" I may come off badly but yes. There's some part of me that's happy that won't have to see that Red eyes narcissistic creature but then there's a part of me who knows so much is changing, who knows what I will have to face, things which I haven't yet which is inevitable. It scares me. It feels different but I don't know if it's a good thing or not " Draco told him lost in his thoughts.

" t- that was wise answer. But I don't think much would happen to you. I promise you that. You were just a kid, hell you still are. I know you're afraid they're gonna put you up in azkaban but I'm sure they won't " Harry replied carefully putting his hand over Draco's shoulder. Draco looked at harry but didn't say anything.

" you fought valiantly though " Draco said

" you sounded like Voldemort just now" Harry chuckled

" well can you blame. That man breathed around my neck " Draco chuckled and in a childish way they broke into laughter. And they laughed until their breath ran out.

And then they talked and no longer In an uncomfortable sort of way but in a nice causal way. Things about plans after this, or what was their favourite desert despite the fact they already knew that, or about which place would they like to visit. They talked about everything and nothing and this was their sort of perfect and they liked it.

It was simple but it was perfect because it was them.

Requests open

Day 4- the missing piece

Day 6 - pinned

[rosesvioletshardy]

tummy love - b.h.

i stayed up all night finishing this so i’m not sure if it’s good or not 

also the reason why it took me a while to finish it was because of the pixie trailer and i spent all night thinking about it

masterlist

warnings: a little angst

# of words: 2,157

---

Everyone knew that women always felt uncomfortable with their bodies and never took it on as a men’s issue as well. People have been either losing weight or gaining weight since the start of the year and it’s different for everyone. Ben has always cared for his body and if they asked him to lose weight and have a six pack for film he would do it. Always staying in shape and eating healthy until filming was over. Even after, he would try and stay in shape by going to the gym every other day or so. 

He didn’t have any projects where they required him to be shirtless since bohemian rhapsody with a couple of his outfits he wore as Roger but other than that nothing. Now he was back in his apartment with his girlfriend about to leave for vacation with their friends. He wasn’t sure exactly what they were going to be doing the entire time they were there or what the weather was going to be like so he packed extra just in case. He saw her pack up all her necessities and wondered how he managed to get someone so beautiful that no one else could compare.

“You’re staring again.” she told him not even looking up but still feeling his eyes on her

“Well i can’t help that there is someone so beautiful and gorgeous standing near me.” he told her as he walked over to give her a kiss on her neck

“Stop, if anyone’s gorgeous it’s you.” she said turning around to kiss his lips causing him to turn red after her comment

“What time did they say to be there by?”

“Rami said that he and lucy will come here around noon and we’ll drive to the airport together. We deserve this. We’ve all been working so hard and you finally get to relax after working so hard.”

The next couple of hours were spent finishing packing while they hung around and waiting for the taxi to arrive. Throughout those hours Ben couldn’t help but wonder if she was only with him for his body and money. He knew that it was wrong of him to think that way but sometimes he lets his mind wander as he looked over at her chatting with their two friends. It went on like that for a few more hours until they finally landed at their destination in croatia. The warm weather hit their skin as they landed and met up with Gwilym and Joe seeing that they had been there a day before the rest of them. When they got to the house, they saw how beautiful it was from the outside and how it was even more on the inside. Rami and Lucy went to their room, while Ben and Y/N went to another and began unpacking. Everyone had decided to go to dinner seeing that it was the evening time and they won’t be able to go to the beach until the next day. That’s something they were both worried about. Both Y/N and Ben haven’t been themselves with and liking their bodies recently but they didn’t want to tell each other and ruin the vacation even though they had told each other they would be honest with each other.

The next morning, they had felt so much better and relaxed for a bit since they had got to sleep in for a bit after a night of dinner and some drinking. When they had gone downstairs, they had realized they were the only awake at the moment and decided to make breakfast for everyone before they decided to go to the beach. The beach. That meant it would require the both of them to be in their suits with everyone to sleep. Ben didn’t feel comfortable without his shirt and was the reason why he had been sleeping with one rather than being shirtless like he was before.

“Morning everyone.” he said pouring the coffee as they all came down to the kitchen as Y/N set the last of the food down onto the table 

“This looks so good, you really shouldn’t have.” Lucy said as she sat down

“Seriously. I feel so lucky to be friends with you both. No one could ever compare to what you guys make.” joe said taking a seat and pouring some eggs onto his place

“So what are we doing today, what’s on the agenda?” ben asked 

“Well after breakfast, Y/N and I were thinking about going to go shop around a bit, you guys can come with or hang around, then we all could go to the beach?” lucy asked grabbing some toast

“Yeah, I like that. It sounds like a good plan.” gwilym said as everyone agreed and continued to eat

Lucy and Y/N took in the sun as they walked around the city before walking into another store. It was their fifth store already and the guys were back at the house waiting for them to come back before the sun set. As they bought the last few items, they talked and laughed before entering the house to see the guys all laying around waiting for the girls as they heard their laughter

“Finally you’re here. How was shopping?” Ben asked as they all got up to help them bring in the bags they had

“It was great. I told myself I was going to spend much but I couldn’t help myself. Oh and Ben I got you some stuff as well that I think you’re going to like” Y/N told him excitedly as they went to go drop their stuff off in their room. Ben couldn’t help but smile and worry  at the same time about what she got him because he wasn’t if it were going to fit him or look good on him like everything else he had but he tried to ignore the feeling.

“Really? What’d you get?”

“That’s a surprise for later. Come on, let’s go have a fun day at the beach.” she said kissing on the cheek smiling and taking his hand and pulling him to the others

“Okay are we all ready to go?” rami said clapping his hands together

Everyone nodded and grabbed all the supplies that they had gathered and left the door. They decided to walk to the beach rather than drive because the weather was nice and they wanted to take in everything that they were seeing. Ben’s hand never left hers and she began to notice that his finger was starting to tap against her fist. Y/N immediately knew that something was wrong and looked over to him and gave him a look. He brushed it off and said that he was fine, when she knew he wasn’t and something was bothering him.

It felt like they were having the time of their lives and it was exactly what they needed. After tanning for a bit, Y/N had brushed off any excess said that got stuck to her and went towards the water.

“Babe, you want to come in the water with me?”

“No, I'm fine here, you go ahead. I might join later.” Ben told her while putting his book down to focus his attention on her while he sat under the umbrella. She looked at him for a bit before walking towards him and crouched down and took his hands

“You okay? You’ve been a bit on edge since we’ve came here and for the past couple months as well”

“Yeah i think it’s just that I get to relax for a long time before going back since it’s never happened before.” he told her shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. Y/N just stared at him for a bit trying to see if he was hiding something but she couldn’t tell exactly what it was

“Okay, I just want you to have some fun. You deserve it. I love you.” she finished while giving him a small peck

“I love you.”

He watched as she walked towards the ocean and took in the way she looked when she walked and started to think about how much he loved her. At first she freaked out about how cold the water was causing him to giggle and shake his head as they looked at each other. She started to talk to Gwilym and began to think about whether she would leave him for Gwilym and saw how they got along. Shaking the thoughts away from his head, he went back to reading his book 

After a while she went back to her spot next to Lucy and sat down to dry off a bit, while Ben, Rami, Joe, and Gwilym tried to play soccer in the sand

“Has Ben seemed a little off to you?” she asked lucy putting her sunglasses on

“A little, like he seems more self aware and a little jumpy. Is something wrong with the two of you?”

“No, but he does seem more a bit secretive and I can tell he’s keeping something from me.” 

“Maybe he’s going to propose?” 

“Maybe” Y/N said looking back at him and seeing him laughing with his friends

Nighttime came around and they all went back to the house and got ready for a night out in the town. They felt a sense of deja vu as they were in the same positions before they went to the beach. As she finished putting on her shoes, she took a deep breath and walked over to ben and stood behind him as he looked at himself in the mirror

“Ben, i want you to be honest with me. You have been secretive for the longest time and I don’t want to sound like a really clingy, jealous, overprotective girlfriend and-” she started by saying before he kissed her 

“Y/N, I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry like you are now, but I’m not hiding anything. It’s just since--for the past few months, I haven’t felt like myself physically and mentally. It felt weird to not be able to go to the gym every week and i’ve felt like I've gained a tummy from the weight gain and because of it you were going to leave me. I mean I saw you talking to Gwil earlier when you were in the ocean and he looked really fit and in shape and I just felt like shit. And you. You look so beautiful naturally and I have to stay in shape just to make sure that I look good enough to get roles. That’s why I stopped sleeping shirtless, why I wouldn’t take my shirt off at the beach and why my clothes have been a little baggier.” he confessed looking at his hands. 

Y/N looked at him in silence before she took his hand and lifted his head so they were looking at each other.

“Listen, i love you ben. I don’t care whether you have a 6 pack or if you have a tummy. It’s completely normal. I don’t like Gwil and I only think of him as a brother. We were actually talking about The Great because I had a few questions that I was a little confused about and I finally got the time to ask him. I love you for you. Yes, you may have a great body, but I fell in love with the person who has it. I love all the little things you do like the way you stand when you’re trying to look for something to wear or the way you can immediately light up a room when you walk into it. If you want, you can start working out again when we get home or you can’t. The bottom line is, I still love you for you, and I just want you to be healthy and full of love. I have no eyes on any other man besides you benjamin jones.” she told him caressing the side of his face

“Now, our friends are waiting for us downstairs. So let’s go get shitfaced and immediately regret the next day.” Y/N finished taking his hand as they both got up and walked out of their bedroom.

“Took you guys long enough, we were about to leave without you.”

“Yeah we were just talking about everything that’s happened and got distracted” ben said as he smiled at his girlfriend. Lucy looked over to her and smiled seeing that they finally got to talk it out.

“Okay if anyone else has anything to say, say it now or forever hold your piece because the night is still young and I have a lot of energy to burn on the dance floor.” Joe said 

“Okay, okay let’s go then” rami said opening the door for them to all pile out

[ethrenisnotthehero]

Let’s talk about this now.

Everything that follows in this post is totally my own opinion. It has nothing to do with Jill; it wasn’t read by her or condoned by her. It’s my story and my experiences, and I think it’s important in this context because some of a survivor’s worst enemies are often other survivors.

As someone who has survived abuse, and as someone who is currently in training to become a Court Appointed Special Advocate for youth victims of abuse and domestic violence, I’m going to explain why internet callouts and motions like the #MeToo movement are not only something you can believe, but that you should believe because of the complete and systematic failures that continue to persist in our real-life institutions of justice.

Please heed the tags. Nothing is in too graphic of detail, but I remember when just the words were enough for me.

TW: Abuse, Neglect, Gaslighting, Sexual Assault, Pedophilia, Trafficking, Drug Use, Mental Illness, Violence

I spent a majority of the first years of my life in sexual slavery.

Before April, 2004, pseudoephedrine could be purchased over the counter and without an ID in the United States. Tablets of it were used across the nation to manufacture what some people still call “the drug of the 90s:” methamphetamine. In 2021, many people might know meth because of television shows like Breaking Bad, and make xenophobic jokes about Mexican drug cartels and the infamous “Wall” while breaking up blue-tinted sugar candy.

The truth is, few people our age this day remember methamphetamine use being the epidemic it was when Oklahoma enacted its ban of pseudoephedrine in stores. In 2005, which required medication to be sold at licensed pharmacies and for purchasers to present a photo ID to acquire limited amounts, OK officials located and shut down 334 home meth labs -- less than half of the 812 seized before the ban.

In fact, meth use was so widespread and easily accessible that 93% of people who went through rehabilitation for it would end up using again. It was viciously addictive, and the help that was offered was only a drop in the bucket of a growing sickness that the government wrote crime bills to control instead of trying to treat the symptoms. By 2004, it was too late for a lot of people. By 2004, it was too late for me.

My birth parents spent their entire lives addicted to meth. My birth mother grew up in the American foster care system and was adopted as a teenager by junkies in the deep South; my birth father was a paranoid schizophrenic who spent the first 7 years of his life locked in a closet by his parents until they lost custody, and then aged out of the system. She used drugs to get away from the fact that her birth parents despised her; he used meth to “calm” his paranoid rages when he couldn’t afford medication. They both tried rehab. They both failed to stay sober.

They had several children before us. My birth mother miscarried. She tried again. My birth father lost custody of his first before he met her, and they relapsed together and lost custody of a second child. That child died from complications of neglect.

They had me.

They stayed sober for six months. They relapsed again. They weren’t smart enough to make meth, so they bought it. They had another kid. My birth father lost his job. They couldn’t afford it. They couldn’t afford medicine or food. They had no money, they couldn’t get work, and so they gave up what they did have.

2004 was too late for me.

When the ban came, my parents moved to try to escape. We came to a new state. They found a job. My “uncle” became their new dealer and they paid the only way they knew how. One day, a SWAT team showed up at our door. They told us we could pack one box of our belongings, and that was the last time we ever belonged to those people.

The law chased them down, but not for what they did to us. They were given a plea deal; my birth parents would sell out their suppliers and their “business partners,” and they wouldn’t go to prison. The entire case would be locked up, the records closed, and they could try to get their kids back.

My parents never served a single day for their crimes.

They showed up once to visitation. They kissed me. They promised me they would come back. I privately wished that they would disappear forever, and they did. I later learned they relapsed the day before our next visitation, and had parental rights terminated.

The law does not protect children. It rarely protects the victims that it’s meant to, but it never protects people who can’t speak for themselves. Unless you have money, no one will care. If no one cares, your transgressors will never, ever answer for their crimes. To this day, the United States Justice System will not let me own records or copies of records of the case against my parents. I couldn’t speak until I was six years old. When I was put into foster care, I couldn’t eat solid food for three months. My gag reflex was so bad I couldn’t brush my teeth comfortably until well after I was adopted. I trembled under my bed because my nightmares blended into my waking hours and I was so scared I couldn’t even scream.

When I turned 18, my birth mother found me. She lives with my birth father in a state known for its rampant meth use. She had another child. He’s 14 now. He plays soccer, has girlfriend, learned the flute last year, and his favorite Pokemon is Rayquaza. He got all A’s in his final year of middle school. They started over.

I talk to him sometimes. I don’t talk to her, because when I asked her to apologize for what happened, she told me the government was lying to me. She told me there were two sides to every story. She told me that my adopted parents had poisoned me against her. She called me an ungrateful little whore and told me that God would punish me one day. She told me she was a victim, too, and she deserved a relationship with me.

She is a victim. I still remember the sound when my birth father broke her arm in a rage when she threatened to leave him. 

I also still remember trying to hide with her as she lay on her bed, high as a kite, not so much as lifting a finger to help me.

Being a survivor doesn’t give a person the excuse to minimize the experience of other survivors. Some people get justice. A lot of people don’t. Sometimes the police swoop in and make predators pay. Sometimes they shoot mentally ill foster children to death because the alternative takes too much time and effort. Technology is a useful tool, because it gives a voice to the voiceless. It empowers people who are made powerless. My adoptive parents didn’t believe me when I finally had the words to say “I was harmed.” They beat the shit out of me when I was little for trying to draw out what was wrong. They stopped letting me see a therapist when she told them I showed signs of serious trauma from sexual violence. The internet gives a rope to people who are stuck in a whole with everyone around them calling them a liar. Technology gives survivors and outlet to make their story their own again.

Your story doesn’t erase other peoples’ stories. People who are nice to you can be hurtful to others. What you see isn’t necessarily the truth and until we have a government that survivors can rely on it’s always, always important to believe survivors.

[hotchley]

heyy sumayyah! firstly: i'm so sorry you got hate asks >:( some people really can't be nice... that sucks. i'm back with my hc to (maybe, hopefully) distract you/cheer you up!! just saying, it's LONG and it's kind of angsty in the beginning lmao sorry oops, but it gets a little better towards the end!! i promise!!

tw mentions of (bad) eating habits, very briefly implied abuse/domestic violence and alcoholism, brief mention of almost-fainting!!

so my own horrible eating habits got me thinking of Hotch who already doesn’t eat that much because of how he was raised (on his father’s bad days, his mother wouldn’t even be able to get up to make food and his father would be batshit drunk anyway, so no one made food and there’s nothing at home, and Hotch is too young and doesn’t know how to cook for himself, and that just carried its way into adulthood even after he learnt to cook (for Sean, because Sean is a growing boy and still has to eat and he would do anything to make sure Sean grows up happy) and even after he gets together with Haley, who always has to check in on him to make sure he's eating properly)

like, man would throw himself into his work, sometimes not on purpose but because he just was so intent on finishing just one more document, and time just slipped by and when he looks up again it’s 8pm, the bullpen’s almost empty, and then he realises that he actually hasn’t ate anything since he had his morning coffee. and after especially bad cases (Vincent Perrotta, Carl Buford, Tobias Hankel, that case on the pig farm, Foyet, etc.) he just, avoids food on purpose, distracting himself by finishing all the paperwork he has, even if they’re not urgent, sometimes even completing the team’s paperwork (as much as he can) just because he feels like he’s failed them. the team doesn't deserve to be bogged down by all these bureaucratic issues but he does, because what good is his role as their unit chief if he can’t even shield them from the evil out there, if he has to send his team into the abyss every single time and every time someone else gets more injured/fractured, and the least he could do is to help out the team with what he’s best with, right? all those behind-the-scenes, messy, cutthroat politics, because it’s okay if he takes the brunt of the scrutiny of the brass and if he could he would not even let the team relive what they’ve been through because they don’t deserve that, they don’t deserve having to recount their traumatic experience in a bloody report that will eventually just be filed and chucked aside but will leave emotional and mental scars on his agents that will never be erased.

or sometimes he’s just stressed out and anxious and food just really doesn’t go well with his stomach, and he opts to skip meals entirely - he drinks coffee only because he still needs to keep awake, to make sure he’s paying full attention on all these cases and victims and his team who deserve his 120%, and because his stomach’s been conditioned to accept coffee no matter what (over 10 years of being in the BAU after over another 5? years as a prosecutor, where he drank coffee like his life depended on it). and sure, he’s lost weight, his ribs slightly showing when he raises his hands to reach for things/take off his sweaters, sure he’s looked a little more gaunt and tired as the years go by, sure he’s had some almost fainting spells in his office after a long day without food, where his vision just blacks out for 5 seconds after he stands up and he has to clutch onto the edge of his desk to stabilize himself, but it's okay to him, because he must be the strong, stoic, reliable leader for his team and he can’t faint in his office, not when the blinds are open and the team can look in and when he knows that Derek, Emily and Spencer are all looking in concerned because he hasn’t left his office all day

and i’m just also thinking about how the team would just, do their best to feed him??? like, when they stop for gas on long road trips to/back from cases, he always doesn’t buy anything besides a coffee (black, as usual, with just a dash of sugar and cream on good days) for himself, but then JJ passes him an unopened nutri bar which she claimed she bought earlier for herself but now 'doesn’t feel like eating anymore', Dave silently hands over a cookie (chocolate chip, his favourite) and stares at him with his eyebrows raised until Aaron accepts the cookie and actually eats it, Derek slips a wrap into his hands somehow and offers to drive because 'Hotch, you gotta finish your wrap', Spencer casually asks Hotch if he can help him finish off this sandwich which he bought but cannot finish, and Hotch looks down and sees a perfectly fine egg and ham sandwich which hasn’t even been bitten into, but Spencer’s looking at him with those eyes (he thinks of Jack and how strikingly alike his sons they are) so he takes the sandwich and eats it, Emily openly challenges him and says ‘here’s the bag of chips i owe you, you better finish it all because i took the trouble of actually getting them or else’ and he goes along with it because he’s learnt that arguing with her is sometimes equivalent to arguing with Penelope, and that mostly ends up with him going along with both their ‘suggestions’ in the end anyway, and on the rare cases where Penelope goes with the team out into the field, she always packs homemade cookies and cupcakes that are so wonderfully bright and colourful, like everything about her, and when she gets to him with those sparkling hopeful eyes and says ‘I made these myself, come on, have a taste and let me know what you think?’, Hotch can’t help but accept it because he doesn’t ever want to disappoint Penelope and make her sad, because her bubbly and innocent demeanour reminds him of Jack and he would never do anything to kill that bright light that is Penelope

aND I’m getting some big emotions. imagine all the subtle (& not so subtle) things the team does just to make sure he eats (regularly) which may include and are not limited to: inviting themselves over to Hotch’s house for homecooked meals (Spencer, Derek), inviting him & Jack out on outings or playdates which most often than not end with them at restaurants where Hotch eats because Jack needs a good role model on healthy eating behaviours and he’s got to be that for Jack (Derek, Emily, JJ), or just showing up at his house/office to leave him baked goods/cooked meals that were always somehow ‘extras’ or ‘leftovers’ (JJ, Penelope, Rossi, Spencer) i'm sorry this got so long!! it was written a little over a month ago when i was procrastinating on my literature essay in the middle of the night, so i got a little angsty LOL. i hope this distracts you somewhat from the horrible ask you got! take care of yourself! sending love and hugs <33

🌙

Putting my answer below the keep reading for scrolling x

Aww thank you for sending it!! When I saw I had an ask, I really thought it was you, and then it was that stupid anon and I was like: Oh okay then... I have to go eat dinner so....

Ohh... his childhood... the poor kid would've been so much smaller, but so determined to do everything for Sean because that's his little brother and he loves him more than anything... I love Haley though <3

He would so do that though. He would tell himself he could eat once he's done something- which is really unhealthy, if you're reading this do not ever withhold food, if you're feeling hungry just eat something it doesn't matter what it is because something will always, always be healthier than nothing- and then he would pick something else up and the cycle would repeat...

He would convince himself the coffee is enough, that there's nothing wrong with his habits because he's never done anything different, but he would know deep down that it's not right. But he still wouldn't eat anything because he knows it'll make him naesous either way.

The worst part is what are the team meant to do in that situation? They can't force him to eat... as much as they may want to, they can't...

YES! The team would have a tally chart of who last had to make Hotch eat, so they would have a rota, and occasionally (all the time actually) they would deviate from said rota and then they would all look at each other and then laugh because eh, it's fine!

That ending was so cute, I love them <3

Noo!! Don't be sorry it go so long, I love it so much!! I might have to work it into a fic... wait... one of them may have referenced JJ giving him in a sandwich, unless that was only in my head lol

[kdramachitchat]

Hometown Cha Cha Cha episode 3 recap: Hyejin goes on a roadtrip to Seoul and takes care of a patient

Short trip to Seoul

Hyejin invites Dusik and the 3 ladies a trip to Seoul. While driving Hyejin gets into a road rage one of the elder ladies gives the driver who caused a close accident a piece of her mind too. During the trip of course there will be eventual rest stops and bathroom breaks which turns out to be hilarious especially when they bought older music, played it in the car too. Hyejin tells the ladies about her parents when they talk about their family histories. She doesnt have alot of patience and is late. Dusik thanks her for driving the ladies despite her annoyed complaints. Dusik has business in Seoul too, she drops him off and he forgot about his phone. Dusik visits a dentist psychiatrist clinic.

Hyejin attends a dental conference. They all brag about their practices and Hyejin lied about the quality of her dental practice saying that she works in a hospital, also how the seaside is more developed. Hyejin continues to mock them and accidentally meets Dusik. Dusik tells her that he saw her invitation inside the car hence knowing her location. Whiel they were talking, one of her acquaintances saw them both and took photos. While driving around Seoul, Hyejin and Dusik competes themselves about their preferred home. Hyejin says that Seoul is better while Dusik prefers the seaside and tells her how suffocating Seoul is with all the buildings. He got a point. Not everyone is meant for either the city life or the seaside. These 2 are totally polar opposites. Dusik asks her to drop him off at the restaurant as there’s an emergency meeting.

When she returned. One of her acquaintances asks her who the man in the photo is and Hyejin doesnt respond at a classroom groupchat. She defends herself and tells them that he’s not her boyfriend. Zooms in on the photo and tells herself that its not cute, but her expression tells different. A flashback scene of Dusik falling asleep in her car. She feels bad for his uncomfortable sleeping position and adjusts his seat. Dusik notices and he remembers that moment. At night, Dusik had a nightmare and we dont know what. He wakes up and drinks some sort of pills. Maybe it was the reason for him visiting Seoul? Does he have a past that we dont know?

Treating Gamri

As dentist and doctors they dont like patients wasting their time. If they come for a checkup they have to pay. Gamri who is pain wants a implant complaints how the fee is expensive and wants to remove her weak teeth. Since she doesnt want to spend on her treatment and tells them to leave. Respect the doctor’s time, they would rather have time with patient who’s willing to pay and pay attention to rather than not. Dusik complains why she’s rude to Gamri.

He eventually paid for Gamri’s treatment but she threw water at him clearly annoyed and tells him to get lost. Dusik convinces Hyejin to treat Gamri since he’ll be paying. Tells her that Gamri’s completely selfless and yet doesnt take care of herself. Hyejin tells him that Gamri is selfish but defends her and says that she’s the most selfless woman that he’s ever met.

Dusik defends her saying that she burdens herself to take care of her children. Hyejin doesnt understand and its frustrating to watch. She tells him that parents being healthy for a long time is what a good parent is to their kids. So when the kid grows up they wont struggle taking care of their parents. Hyejin has a different upbringing so she couldnt relate. They shouldnt endure the pain just so they could save money for their children. Because in the end children will have to take care of them. Hyejin gets teary eyed and emotional when mentioning this. Leaving Dusik teary eyed too and in shock by her response. A flashback memory of Hyejin and her mother. She sees her mother struggling in pain in the bathroom without her mother knowing that she saw the incident. She was very young when it happened. Then the time they were in Seoul, Dusik observed Hyejin watching a mother-daughter and remembered her saying to him that her mother passed away. He inwardly thinks that Hyejin lied to him and obviously she still remembers her mother.

Dusik gets to know her from this alone and understands her view point. Pains to see that Hyejin didnt really had a good childhood and care. Dusik visits Gamri the next day. Tells her that someone told him advice and repeats Hyejin’s words to Gamri. Gamri thinks about his words and i think she’ll do the treatment. Also the reason why Dusik is paying for Gamri’s treatment is because the son refuses to pay. Hyejin complains about the food she eats and notices how the food is difficult to chew. She probably was reminded of Gamri.

Hyejin sees Gamri’s name and meets her infront of her house and Gamri invites her into her home. Gamri showed her appearance at a tv show. It showecase her father who finally gets recognized as a military man who fought for the country’s independence. The piece of certificate has chinese characters that Gamri couldnt read. Gamri new Dusik as a young boy and read the characters for her. He also showed up in the recorded tape. The taping was aired 2 years ago and Gamri tells her that she was named after the flag. Gamri was very proud of her father. They enjoyed their time together and Hyejin enjoyed her meal. Gamri tells her for driving her to Seoul.

Every visit has a reason, Hyejin tells her that she will give Gamri a discount for the materials that will be used. Hyejin tells her to keep it a secret for the reputation of her clinic. Hyejin tells her that she found out that her favorite food is squid and is reminded of her own mother. She eventually helps her with her implants. Gamri probably noticed and tells her that Dusik likely said something to her to make her change her mind. Gamri tells her Dusik is kind but so nosy. Hehe. Hyejin agrees. Gamri tells her that Dusik hung the bell that she likes so much.

The next day Gamri eventually visits the clinic on her own & pays for the entire fee. Gamri reports to Dusik about her implants and Dusik is shocked by her statement. She complains about her anesthesia wearing off. Dusik is very happy that she got treated and tells him that Ms Yoon visited her and offered her a discount. Gamri tells him that she may look cold as ice but she’s a softie. Gamri tells him that she probably been through alot in her life.

Dusik goes to Hyejin’s house after she reported that her lights went out and apologizes to her for judging her. He finally found the other pair of her shoes and returned it to her. Her lights went back on too. Hyejin tells him that she made a mistake, hopefully after earning money she’ll eventually return to Seoul. But i bet Dusik is hoping that she wouldnt and stay.

The epilogue: Dusik found her other pair of shoes while fishing. It was hiding behind the log. Hahaha. Dusik also makes an effort by searching how to clean up the shoe. Dusik also brought the other pair of shoe when Hyejin wasnt looking and sneaked it back to her shoe closet!

Episode 3 - Dont judge the book by it’s cover. Sometimes the way people act is because they were affected from their past. Hyejin is a good person but sometimes her actions comes off wrong and rude but Dusik sees the light in her and treats her better only when she does treat others better too.

Parents also have the right to live the way they want. They earned it but children will always be their priority but in the end it shouldnt be the end of their own life, not caring for themselves. Take care of yourself then you can take care for others

I also love the hedgehog reference. I always wonder when they're going to bring that up! Theyre sharp on the outside but once being cared for they're soft animals. Hyejin is just misunderstood and Dusik is slowly realizing it.

Honestly find the drama really slow and i understand why some may find this boring but i do appreciate the subtle character development each episode. Dusik seem to slowly be more nice and caring towards Hyejin too. Im not entirely sure about this drama. Its definitely more character driven than plot development and its slower compared to other healing dramas. There isnt much going on but hopefully there’s more to it than what they’re showing.

[misterewrites]

Underground Proper (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! 2021! WOO! Thank god. I know it's pretty much just arbitrary signal of the passage of time but you gotta enjoy the little things. I hope you are all good, staying safe and sound in these chaotic times. Here is the new chapter which I hope you enjoy. 

It's finally time to enter the Underground proper. Abigail and company had an exciting large send off but the first steps of the journey are at hand and Abigail is quick to realize that leaving the Underground might be harder than she thought.

Reblog, enjoy stay safe tell your friends about it! Wear your masks, wash your hands, have a great week! E out!

and if you want to leave me comments or find an easier way to read it, here’s a link to it on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/69919671

The longer Abigail stayed in the Underground, the more realized she was wildly getting further and further out of her depth.

She thought the little walk from the cemetery to town had properly prepared for her trek into the wilds but all it had really done was lure her into a false sense of security.

The tunnel floor was uneven, the ground straightening and sloping at random which nearly caused her to trip once or twice. The path would randomly grow and shrink as well, sometimes becoming so wide that the Swift Slivers could march side by side then without warning becoming so narrow the trio had to fall into a single file line. She jumped at noises that abruptly existed in the tunnel, signs of life or movement echoing further down the path. The air was frigid and moist, reminding Abigail of her town’s harshest winters. She tried to keep track of where the group currently was but that ultimately proved useless as the road would veer slightly left, snaked back and forth, bent at a weird angle and sometimes looped back around, rising or falling with a spiral or slope. Illumashrooms weren’t as plentiful as the town and while it wasn’t pitch dark, Abigail had to squint and focus among the dim light of the occasional mushroom found on the path.

Her dear departed brother Arthur once mentioned how he was not a fan of tight spaces. Claustrophobia the clerics called it. At the time Abigail thought him silly given that they lived in a wide open farm. Here, among the darkness and stony walls of the underground, Abigail understood what he meant more clearly.

Arthur.

Abigail could feel her heart ached terribly at the thought of her brother.

“Watch out here farm girl” Oliver’s voice called from out front.

Abigail snapped back to reality, her hand reaching out for Archibald’s shoulder as the road sloped sharply once more.

Abigail knew the other two were helping her through her first time through the tunnel and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She was used to being caught flat footed but never to this degree. Well except that one time during Winter’s Solstice. That was just awkward for everyone especially her.

Oliver was ahead, lightly humming the occasional song while calling out warnings about sudden shifts in the road. Archibald walked beside her when the path would allow, offering his hand then shoulder for her to brace herself with.

The boys were clearly no stranger to this way of traveling and while Abigail felt a little embarrassed at her tripping and confusion, she was grateful the two went out of her way to help her. Even Oliver hadn’t sent a pointed barb at her.

“I can see why it takes half day to a day.” Abigail sighed, steadying herself against Archibald “Is it always this rough?”

“Better and worse usually.” Oliver admitted, peering into the shifting shadows ahead “This just one path and since not many people go to West End, it’s usually uncared for here.”

He gestured to a illumashroom plucked from the ground and thrown to its side.

“But” he continued “The other paths are well worn, lot more people and lot more care put into maintaining the roads and the signs. More ways to get where you want too but also more roadblocks and unforeseen circumstances.”

“Mixed bag then.” Abigail huffed.

“Like life” Oliver replied.

Archibald nodded his head in agreement.

“How do you guys get used to it?”

Oliver motioned to himself “Born here.”

Archibald gestured to his sliver hued clothing.

“Right. Silly question.”

Archibald tiled his hand back and forth.

“Ha, thanks Archibald.”

He rose a thumb in response.

“Enough flirting back there.” Oliver shouted “It’s getting late.”

“Is it?”

“We’ve been working for about 6, 7 hours Archie?”

Archibald paused thoughtfully before wordlessly counting his fingers, holding up 7 after a moment.

Abigail glanced at them “Have we? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You will when we stop. Luckily there is a clearing up ahead.”

“Clearing? Like a field or?” Abigail glanced at Archibald who simply gestured forward.

“Clearing.” Abigail whispered in understanding.

Before them was a cavern, wide and spacious whose ceiling couldn’t been seen through the inky darkness. The walls were rough and jagged with the odd crack or smaller tunnel that led away from the beaten path. The faint of smell of ash filled the air as Abigail noticed the various imprints of tents and footsteps scattered across the floor, travelers long past persevered by dust.

“Rest stop” Oliver explained, putting his travel bag on the floor “There’s a couple of these caverns across the roads. Perfect to set up and keep an eye out when resting or sleeping. Usually there’s more people but like I said, no one comes to West End. Willingly at least.”

Abigail rose an eyebrow “You did though.”

If Oliver heard, he made no indication as he began removing things from his bag.

Archibald and Abigail followed suit, making themselves comfortable among the stony floor as they set up for the night.

______

Abigail was quick to realize what Oliver meant when he said she would notice once they stopped.

Once her little sleeping bag had been laid out and she folded up the cloak under her as a comfortable seat, she could feel the exhaustion ebb into her bones.

Abigail huffed tiredly as she took a seat “Wow, I’ve never been that winded before.”

Archibald was hard at work setting a fire pit, finding rocks around and enclosing the various logs of wood within while Oliver plucked at his lute mindlessly, sitting upon on his own pile of clothing for a seat.

“Lack of sun people say. Humans aren’t really suppose to go without it for long periods of time. Luckily a lot of food down here that helps with that.”

Abigail’s stomach rumbled hungrily at the mention of food. She briefly remembering eating snacks throughout the day but not a full meal.

Archibald fished out a piece of jerky from his pack and handed it to Abigail

Abigail smiled gratefully “Thanks.”

Archibald coughed, returning to his work as Oliver searched through his bag.

“Archie, Slimewood?”

He replied with an unhappy face.

“I picked up some Jub steak too.”

The archer nodded happily at the alternative.

“Slimewood? Jub steak?”

Oliver pulled out a carefully wrapped package, laying it to the side as he dug deeper “Food Abigail. I bought some for this road trip.”

“You bought food?? When?!” Abigail couldn’t recall seeing the bard make such a purchase.

“I snuck out after everyone fell asleep. Butcher owed me a favor so I did some midnight shopping.”

“And were you planing on sharing this information?”

“Yes” Oliver admitted “Now when it’s dinner time.”

“Surprisingly nice of you” Abigail murmured suspiciously. “Practical” Oliver corrected “We’re traveling together so the best shot to stay alive is to make sure we’re all well fed and in one peace. Especially this one.”

Oliver pointed at Archibald who beamed with pride.

“Right. Travel companions.”

“Hey you came at me with a knife.” Oliver reminded her.

“After you tried to rob me.” Abigail shot back darkly.

“Thought you were a corpse farm girl.”

Archibald looked back and forth between the two.

“Long story” Abigail offered sympathetically.

Oliver scoffed “I thought she was dead, tried to find something of worth, she came at me with a knife. Not that long of a story farm girl.”

Abigail glared openly at the bard. Oliver shrugged as Archibald finished the fire pit, flames and all.

Abigail sighed happily “Much better.”

“Oi merc, got a pan?”

Archibald nodded and pulled out an old worn frying pan. Oliver took it appreciatively and placed it upon the roaring flame, meat shortly followed after.

“Smells pretty good!”

“As opposed to?”

“I dunno. Not good? I don’t even know what this is!”

“First rule of eating food: Never asked what it’s made of.”

“I live on a farm. I’m aware of that rule.”

Archibald chuckled to himself as he eyed either tunnel entrance carefully for any sign of trouble.

The trio sat in a surprisingly peaceful silence among the crackling of the flame and sizzling of cooked meat.

“I’m surprised you know how to cook” Abigail admitted “Given that you’re a grave robber and a jerk.”

Archibald quietly nodded in agreement.

“Personality traits and old habits are not inductive of my skill set.” Oliver replied, turning the meat over.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a bard do anything besides sing and dance.

Oliver scoffed “They’re not real bards like me. I’m going to be the best and to be that, I need to be varied.”

Abigail couldn’t hide her surprise “So you’re not the best? I thought you burst into flames if you were ever honest.”

“I am honest” Oliver countered “I just decide how much honesty I need to share with people.”

Archibald snorted loudly.

“Yeah yeah” Oliver gestured threateningly with his spoon “Keep it up merc and I’ll burn your piece extra crispy and black.

Archibald rose his hand in surrender.

Abigail chuckled, smiling at her companions. She had forgotten how nice it was to be around people.

“Watch it farm girl” Oliver teased, passing her a plate filled with a well cook steak and odd side dishes “You keep smiling like that people might think we’re friends.”

“Moment of weakness. It’s been a long day.”

Oliver snickered, offering Archibald his plate “As long as we’re on the same page.”

Abigail decided to not reply.

Oliver took a smug pride at the others faces as they bit into their first taste of the sweetish salty meat.

“Not just another bard huh?”

Abigail stuck her tongue out “I’m not going to give you the satisfaction.”

Oliver turned to Archibald “How about you merc? Gonna give me some validation?”

Archibald choked, too caught off guard by the question. He gave a friendly thumbs up before trying to clear his airway.

“No greater compliment than a man choking on your food.” Oliver beamed proudly.

Abigail gently rubbed and patted his back in an attempt to help Archibald. He let out a might cough and smiled sheepishly towards Abigail in thanks.

“You don’t talk much huh?”

He shook his head.

“Not a fan?”

A nod.

“I understand.” Abigail gave a cheery smirk.

Archibald was awfully interested in his plate all of the sudden.

“So” Abigail glanced back towards Oliver “This competition? This isn’t you picking on a bunch of kids for a talent show right? You’re actually competing against real bards in a real competition.”

“Of course.” Oliver waved off her accusatory tone “I’m morally gray, not a bully.”

“You’ve been bullying me just fine.” Abigail murmured with an unhappy edge to her tone.

“It’s how I show tolerance.”

“How about you stop being a jerk and sing for us bard?”

Oliver rubbed his fingers together.

Abigail raised an eyebrow “Seriously? You’re going to charge us?”

“No point to do something for free when you can get paid for it.” Oliver gave impish grin.

Abigail frowned before an idea formed in her head “You know Archibald doesn’t think you can sing at all. He was telling me he thinks you just talk a big game but doesn’t see it.”

Archibald froze, his fork halfway between his open mouth and his plate. His eyes darted back and forth, unsure how he got pulled into this.

Oliver pursed his lips: On one hand he knew Abigail was baiting him given how much of a conversationalist Archibald had been this far. But on the other hand, he could never resist a chance to show off.

“I’m playing” Oliver stated simply as he slid his lute off his back “But because I want to. I need practice if I want to win first place.”

“Oh right sure.” Abigail nodded mockingly

Archibald was still confused.

Notes filled the still cave air. It was a soft tune, slow and peaceful reminding Abigail of a lullaby. The bard closed his eyes, swaying back and forth as his fingers strummed across the strings almost like they were made of air.

“For the one day I have long since gone through my past.” Oliver whispered, his voice gravelly and low “Memories of a place that surely can not last. For far and wide I have long always done roam, watching and seeking where I shall call home.”

The flourish, the rises and drops in the music filled Abigail with some nostalgia she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying: He was by no means perfect given some notes did not fit with the others and she could tell this slow more determined song was not his preferred style but even she had to admit this was nice. Surrounded by people, enjoying songs long into the night.

It was nice to be around people.

______

Abigail yawned tiredly as morning came. Well according to Oliver and Archibald it was morning: In the darkness of the tunnels, it was pretty much impossible to tell what time it actually was.

As they drew closer to the capital, Abigail had a better idea of what Oliver meant by better maintained: While not perfect, the path was well worn yet smooth. The slopes weren’t as drastic or without warning. Once or twice, the road branched off to some other path that shot off in some direction Abigail couldn’t hazard a guess.

“What are these all about?” Abigail motioned to yet another crack in a wall, some smaller tunnel that led off into the darkness.

Archibald guided her away from the opening as Oliver glanced backwards.

“Stay away from those.” Oliver eyed the crack cautiously “We call them sideways because who knows where you’re going to end up.”

“I don’t get it.” Abigail was unable to keep the confusion out of her tone.

“Unexplored tunnels.” Oliver clarified “Well as far as we know. No one knows where they go and they’re very dangerous. If you’re lucky, they’ll just spit you out somewhere on the main road. But no one can really be sure and it’s best not to tempt fate.”

A shiver ran down Abigail’s back as she moved closer to the middle of the road. She was already disoriented and lost on this main road to the capital. She didn’t want to know how would it feel be hopelessly lost in the dark.

Abigail nearly crashed into Oliver, took caught up in her thoughts to realize the bard had stopped dead in the road.

“Wha?!” Abigail flailed in surprise “Oliver! What are you doing?”

“Do you hear that?”

Abigail looked about, unsure what she was supposed to be hearing.

“No, I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly.”

A sense of dread began to fill Abigail, her breathing becoming labored. Now that she thought of it, this was the first moment in her journey that there was a tense thick silence. Even in the middle of nowhere, she could hear far off noises among the chilly air. Now the air was still with an overwhelming quiet surrounding them.

“Archie?” Abigail called only to find the archer’s eyes darting about, bow ready in his hands.

He pulled her closer, putting her in the middle of himself and Oliver.

“Guys?”

“Not now Abigail.”

Abigail felt the tension growing, some unseen danger that lurked close by, waiting for their chance to strike.

Abigail glanced about, desperately trying to find some sort of clue to what was going on when she spotted it: glowing silver gleams peering through the darkness of the crack.

Something scurried out quickly, it’s claws scraping the stone walls as its form was silhouetted against the dim glow of the tunnel. She tried to make out what exactly it was but its skin or shell or whatever was too dark in this light.

It was small which was a comfort to Abigail though its claws were sharp and dug easily into the floor. It was misshapen that even Abigail, whom was well versed with a variety of animals, couldn’t tell its features. The only that was noticeable besides its claws were its sliver eyes which were smooth and solid.

“What’s that?” Abigail tilted her head quizzically.

“What is…?” Oliver whirled around “ARCHIE!”

“what, wait?” but no sooner the words had left her mouth, the creature let out a horrible shriek. It thundered in her ears with such a volume that it made her dizzy and unsteady.

The creature stood on its hind legs, throat wide open and the shriek slowly growing louder and louder.

Silence came without warning but it was welcomed.

Abigail panted heavily, the ringing almost unbearable as her sight slowly focused.

There was an arrow where the creature once stood.

Abigail turned sideways to find Archibald, sweat on his brow, his breath heavy and uneven.

She let out a sigh of relief “Did I tell you how much I love you?”

Archibald gave a weak smile.

“Move!”

Archibald and Abigail stared back at Oliver who began pulling at their wrist.

“MOVE NOW!!” Oliver shouted, shoving them forward into a desperate run.

Abigail opened her mouth when she heard the sound of dozens of claws wildly scratching and scraping at anything and everything.

The creatures burst forth from the crack or at least Abigail thought they were creatures. She couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. It was a mass of constantly shifting shadows that took odd shapes. It was if the creatures couldn’t agree on what form they should take. The only thing that did not change was the dozens pairs of sliver smooth eyes, their gaze lifeless yet single minded.

Abigail struggled to break into a run. Her feet felt heavy like the floor was pulling her deeper and deeper into the ground. She could feel fear creeping into every inch of her body, threatening to send her into shock as she tried to keep her panic under control.

“I don’t want to die.” Abigail murmured fearfully as her hands grasped deliriously at the air “Not here. Not yet. Mom, dad. Please! Not here! NOT YET!”

She couldn’t hold in the scream, the panic and fear was too much. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks, the whirl of claws closing the distance inch by inch.

There was a quietness that came with the end. A strange sensation of peace, of acceptance. She felt it now amid the fear and panic. She could hear the soft sounds of trumpets in her ears, a familiar song playing in her mind. It took her a moment to recognize the fanfare of the king’s guard, a triumphant march of victory. She always felt safer whenever she heard the blaring of the horns far in the distance.

She took a deep calming breath. Her body no longer felt sluggish and disconnected as the fanfare played faintly in her head.

She could feel Archibald just behind her, the occasional notch of an arrow letting her know he was trying to push back the hoard but not finding much luck.

Abigail looked forward and was not surprised to find Oliver busy at work. The jet black lute glowed with previously unseen blue runes scrawled across its surface. His fingers were furiously strumming across his lute as if their lives depended on it.

They probably did. His song was the only thing keeping the fear at bay.

“Bards.” Abigail muttered under her breath before calling out “How much further to the gate?”

“Not close enough!” Oliver answered, his fingers never stopping “We’re going to have to lose them another way!”

“There is no other way!” Abigail struggled to keep the tears from spilling onto her face.

Oliver cocked his head forward “One but you’re not going to like it!”

“Why?”

“Remember how I told you never to go down sideways?”

Abigail nearly stopped in her tracks but Archibald sprinted past, clasping her hand tight and pulled her forward.

“Yeah we’re going sideways. Straight ahead, get up here Archie!”

Archibald glanced backwards, the massive wall of claws and sliver eyes just a few feet behind.

Oliver whistled to get his attention “We know what’s behind us, I need you to clear what’s ahead or else we’re not going to make it! Get up here merc!”

Archibald let out a shaky breath and pushed further, dragging Abigail close behind.

The trio spotted Oliver’s idea: A split in the path. One path curved to the side, the dimly lit main path that led to Haven’s Nest. The other was not so much a path as it was a void of darkness, a path that sloped downward into the unknown.

“Oliver!” Abigail cried.

“We can die now or we die later!” Oliver firmly answered “And at least later we might not die, now go!”

Abigail nearly let go of Archibald’s hand but the mercenary gave her a comforting squeeze. He turned to her and spoke wordlessly with a simple smile.

I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.

She took a shaky breath but nodded in understanding.

The trio threw themselves at the opening, sailing through the air for a moment before landing with a dull thud onto the stony floor. Before any of them could react, they began sliding forward, the slope pushing them further deep into the dark.

Oliver’s lute dimly lit the tunnel the little they traveled. It must’ve been a heartbeat or two when the group found themselves tumbling across the straighten floor.

“Get up!” Oliver shouted, pulling the other two to their feet “We need to get going.”

“Where!?” Abigail cried “There’s nowhere to go!”

Archibald elbowed Oliver and pointed out a strange silhouette outlined in the darkness of the cavern.

“Is that a house?” Abigail’s voice asked with disbelief “Down here? That’s creepy.”

“And probably bad news.” Oliver admitted as he pushed the two towards the strange house cloaked in shadows “but later is later! Go go go!”

The claws echoed faintly from the tunnel but the trio had already reached the pouch of the home.

It was oddly similar to Abigail’s home though in much worse shape: Faded, splintered wood with dull peeling paint. The windows were blackened out with dust and the house creaked unhappily as they climbed the porch steps. The door swung open by itself and while that gave Abigail pause, Oliver shoved them in, shutting the door behind them and locking it.

“This is a bad idea.” Abigail panted breathlessly.

Oliver wiped the sweat off his brow “Hopefully we’ll live to regret it.”

“I doubt it.” A voice called from the shadows.

Oliver and Archibald threw themselves forward, pushing Abigail behind them in a defensive formation.

The air was thick with creak, creak, creak of heavy boots walking down some unseen stairs.

A figure appeared before them. He was taller than anyone else here with an old tattered riding cloak draping his massive figure. Brown eyes peered curiously under his hood, his thick beard black and gray. His armor was dented and worn with a faded symbol of a sun across his chest.

“You do not know where you roam children.” the stranger’s voice spoke, melodic and deep.

“At least we’re alive right?” Abigail offered hopefully.

“No you were right.” Oliver eyed the stranger’s symbol distastefully “This is was a terrible idea.”

Abigail leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper “Is he bad news? A thief or murderer or something?”

“Worse.” Oliver glared openly “A paladin.”

[isabellitah]

can you write a headcanon for fem!8 reader who is also dating Vanya, please 🙏🏻💙

🤍 VANYA x SIBLING!READER

Title : secret

Pairing : vanya x sibling!reader

Warning : none

Request : can you write a headcanon for fem!8 reader who is also dating Vanya, please 🙏🏻💙

Note : i hope you like this, anonnie!

you may be Eightie-

the cute and innocent youngest sibling in the Hargreeves family-

however-

y'all know Vanya is the babie you all must protect at all costs

why?

oh i'll tell you why-

you had the confidence Vanya didn't

so while you can pretend to not be affected-

and even fight back verbally-

Vanya is the sweetest woman you have ever met- she's also the shyest

no matter what life threw her way-

her heart remains pure

her voice is sometimes smol

but that's ok y'all have Klaus, Diego, Allison, and Five

she lets out all her feelings through her violin

growing up, you always made sure she never felt out of place when she was with you-

and I believe that that is how she started crushing on you

and when you grew older, instead of seeing her as someone ordinary like she feared, you instead saw her as the most extraordinary, smart, and special woman you've ever met

the love she shows to the people around her is immense; she even forgave and continues to love the family that treated her wrong

best of all-

she is your Vanya

wait-

i may have typed that wrong

what i meant was-

she's your girlfriend-

your dearly loved girlfriend

and it just so happens that you both forgot to mention that tiny little detail to your siblings : D

although you were sure Five and Ben knew-

they always seem to notice things-

anyway-

you weren't hiding your relationship by any means-

they just didn't ask-

anyway on with the story-

suspense b r e a k no im not high

yes im sure

one day you woke up to what felt like an ordinary day-

a slightly chilled room as it rained the night before

a tiny bit of sunlight coming in from your apartment room's window-

Vanya's face on the crook of your neck with her breath hitting your exposed neck causing you to slightly shiver

times like these you were so grateful to be her girlfriend

but you had to start the day going

all your siblings were coming over later that night for your weekly dinner

it usually alternates between your place or the Hargreeves mansion

you sighed before slowly shifting your girlfriend to hug your pillow instead, careful not to wake her

once accomplished, you proceeded to the bathroom to do your morning routine

once done with that, you turned the music on at a low level on the way to the kitchens where you started making pancakes and bacon

so focused on making sure you flipped the pancake right, you were startled to suddenly feel arms wrapped around your waist accompanied by a shy nuzzle against the back of your neck

you sometimes forgot that even Vanya was taller than you-

not by much- but taller nonetheless

"good morning, V,"

"mornin', Tee,"

Vanya wanted to go back to sleep

honestly she did

but she can't ever sleep without you beside her

she felt nervous whenever you weren't with her-

you're literally her home-

as you once said, "home is where the heart is, V."

and you had her heart

and she wanted you to have it-

forever

if you ever didn't want it-

well she didn't either-

it belonged to you

her heart belonged to you

anyway-

you turned around to wrap your arms around her waist and went on your tiptoes to kiss her forehead then her nose then her cheeks and lastly, her lips

and as you kissed, all Vanya can think of was how good you are to her-

how special and secure you make her feel-

and how much she loves you

and as your kiss ended,

she found herself wanting more

but as she leaned in-

you were both stopped by the smell of burnt pancakes

right- you were on the verge of flipping it before Vanya arrived

you quickly flipped the pancake and saw that it was more on the crispy side rather than burnt-

Vanya kissed your cheek as she went on to make you both hot chocolate

together, you ate breakfast

and procceded to start your day together

that night, you were, as usual, cooking dinner for all of your siblings

you're cooking in your apartment, btw

because Diego and Klaus once ate all the food you made for dinner before it was even served-

and honestly-

only you and Vanya can cook

Allison, Five, and Ben were okay at it but the others?

Yeah, no

you and Vanya goofed around while waiting for the oil to reach a certain temperature

you were making your specialty - fried chicken

there was just something about the way you blended it and fried it that was just so much better than any store bought or diner made fried chicken

anyway-

as you and Vanya goofed off,

you ended up in her arms, exchanging little pecks on the lips here and there,

"I love you, V,"

"I love you too, Tee."

"Oh, how sweet," you heard a sarcastic non-biting voice, "just so you know- you're burning perfectly good fried chicken."

since it was supposedly only you and V in the apartment-

you were quite shocked to hear a familiar voice aside from your own and Vanya's causing you both to jump apart

luckily, you were nowhere near the near-boiling pot of oil

looking towards the direction of the voice-

you weren't shocked to see Five

of course he came over before the mentioned time-

he always did

he popped in every once in a while, mostly for Friday breakfasts together, but this was the first time he popped in while you and Vanya were about to kiss

so now you were sure that he knew that you two are in fact dating

Five scanned both you and Vanya before letting his eyes rest on you with an eyebrow raised

"Well? Is the chicken done yet?" his voice was playful more so than usual

and that made both you and Vanya smile

"the chicken isn't even in yet, Five."

he exaggerated his sigh and rolled his eyes heavenward, "well, hurry up then. I'm starving and the others were already making a rucus before I left."

"Okay, child, calm down."

"I'm older than you, Tee."

"Mhmm,"

you chuckled as you turned around to place the chicken into the boiling pot of oil

you heard both Vanya and Five softly talk as they made a pot of coffee

honestly-

coffee at night-

only Five would do that

once the fried chickens were perfected, and the rice and mashed potatoes with vegetables were prepared, you turned around only to see a completely setted table accomplished by both Five and Vanya

Five went beside you to help you with the food and you both were about to set the plates down, a knock echoed throughout your apartment

Five, by instinct, tensed and drew out a gun

as Vanya approached the door, you held onto Five's hand, knowing it was just your remaining siblings

feeling your hand on top of his, he calmed down and hid his gun right before Vanya opened the door

and you were right-

Klaus opened his arms widely before stepping into the now open apartment,

"well well well! Ladies and Five, the main event has arrived! I am quite hungry though, as is the rest of my less fashionable family, ao chop chop! Let's eat!"

Klaus smiled widely at you before pulling you and Vanya - and Five - into his arms, you hugged him back with a laugh and greeted him just as loudly

your loud greeting was followed by Vanya's shy greeting and Five's "let go of me, you fool!"

Luther and Allison laughed at the sight while Diego smirked and Ben smiled while brieflt shaking his head

they all proceeded to enter the apartment and close the behind them, saying their hellos and good evenings

while they settled themselves around the table,

throwing jokes and non-biting remarks around one another

you stayed by the entry of the kitchen as Vanya walked over to you quietly and hugged you, pecking your lips softly as she muttered her love for you

"I love you too, Vanny."

"We love you too, Eightie!" called out Diego at the same time Klaus called out, "We love you too, Vanny!"

giggling at your brothers' antics, you kissed Vanya one more time before making your way to your seats on the table-

you always sat next to one another and now it was clear to everyone - minus Five and Ben - why

the entire family was so much happier that night compared to their usual weekly dinners

they were so happy to see their two youngest siblings happy together

looks like your not-so-secret 'secret' is out

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #370

“breakdowns, obscenities, it’s all i wanna be”

Do you have any bad habits you aren’t working on changing? If so, do you ever think you’ll try to break them? Downloading music, for one. I really should just start using Spotify... but my iPod has over 1k songs on it and I just seriously don't want to got through all the trouble. When was the last time someone surprised you with their reaction or behaviors? Hm. I dunno. What kinds of videos do you like to watch on YouTube, if any? I watch SO many different kinds. It used to be pretty strictly let's plays, but I've definitely expanded my watching interests. Now I'm really into watching educational reptile and tarantula husbandry and keeping channels, I watch one woman who is like my weight loss idol (Jordan Shrinks, she is amazing), there's a few vloggers, I enjoy some World of Warcraft channels, and then there's a couple urban exploration guys I like. I also occasionally watch some beauty YouTubers just for their personalities and the art of it. Have you ever reached out to a crisis center for mental health support? If so, how was the experience? Yes, but they were so busy that I didn't connect with anyone before I finally gave up and ODed. When was the last time you did something you were afraid to do, and how was the outcome? Ummmm I don't really know. What is one positive thing you believe about yourself? I care a lot about other people. What is something you have been through that has made you stronger? The breakup. It brought me to the lowest of lows, where every day was a struggle to survive. It taught me I can endure through almost anything, even if it doesn't feel like I can. Other than money, what is something you wish you had more of in your life? Happiness, contentment, being in love, motivation, energy, activities, travel... There's genuinely a lot. IIs there anything that you tend to ignore for the sake of your sanity? I'm very bad at ignoring things. If something is bothering me, it's going to put up a beastly fight to be at the forefront of my mind. What is something you wish was different about your family? I wish we were closer and better off monetarily. What keeps you going lately? The hope for a happy, satisfactory future. Have you ever been in an unconventional relationship (long distance, polyamorous, same gender, age gap, etc)? if so, what challenges did this relationship present, and were they worth overcoming? I've been in a long-distance relationship with another girl. I think the hardest part was that there was not being able to physically be there for each other when one of us was really struggling, and sometimes communication was an issue, not being able to read body language when we voice chatted or hear the tone in which we "spoke" when texting, though I'm pretty sure that's an issue with any online relations. I also feel it's difficult to really build and experience your chemistry with one another when you're not physically with the other person. I still think all these challenges were worth overcoming, though. I in no way regret the relationship and got only good things out of it. What is the most unhealthy relationship (whether friendship or romantic) you’ve ever had? What made it so unhealthy? Do you still talk to each other? I'm kinda torn between Jason and Colleen, but I think my bond with Jason was ultimately more unhealthy because it went beyond love: he was an obsession. Having him with me was the only thing that brought me joy, and I lit-er-a-lly could not imagine my future without him. Like that concept just didn't exist; it was entirely impossible in my head. On his end, he failed to communicate what he was going through emotionally, which only contributed to the damage. I never knew he was struggling because of me. Without realizing it, I put so much pressure on him to make me happy, so to answer the last question, no, we don't, by his decision - and I don't blame him. Have you ever been abusive in any way? Were you able to change or make amends, or, in general, what do you think people should do to make amends in that situation? A neverending battle I have with myself is if how I treated Jason after the breakup was qualifiable as emotional abuse, specifically with messaging him things like "thanks for sending me to the ER" and shit. My therapist reassures me that it wasn't abusive because I wasn't being deliberately manipulative, but rather genuinely hurt and convinced I had been wronged and wanted him to know and acknowledge it. She agrees that it was wrong, which I entirely agree with, but sometimes, I'm still convinced I was abusive. I fucking hate answering this question, so hurrying up: I don't know if he's forgiven me. As for how others could reconcile, that's not for me to say. I know sometimes the answer is to NOT make amends and completely stay away from their abuser. It's not my right to tell others how to cope with their abuse. Have you ever forgiven someone for being abusive or allowed someone toxic back into your life? Did this person change for the better or not? My former best friend Colleen was toxic as all fuck hell, and I let her back in way too many times. No, she never changed. I honesty doubt she ever will, given her pride. When was the last time you did something “meant” for children? Do you think it’s okay for adults to do these things (ie. watch cartoons, have stuffed animals, dress in cute clothing, etc), or do you think there’s an age beyond which it becomes unacceptable - and if so, why? Hmmm... I know this was semi-recent, but whatever it was is evading me at the moment. I personally have zero issue with adults engaging in activities like that; let people do what they enjoy if they're not harming anyone, especially things as innocent as dressing how they think is cute, etc. I would far rather people "act like children" (not emotionally, you know what I mean) than run around the streets selling drugs and shit. What was the last thing to “trigger” you (as in, in a true mental health sense, I’m being serious here) and how did you cope with it? What kinds of things do you tend to find triggering? What do you do either avoid or face your triggers? When I was riding to the sleep study section of the health plaza, where the hospital is, my anxiety spiked quite a bit, recalling all of my ER stays for being suicidal. It didn't help that the psych hospital I visited most is also in that whole jumble of buildings. I dealt with it by reminding myself I was in that area for a very different reason, and Mom reassured me that where I would be staying was more like a small hotel room than a hospital bed, which was true, so that helped. Regarding the next question, I'm not gonna lie to ya, I have a stupid amount of PTSD triggers: certain music, shows, fandoms, places, smells, even tastes of certain foods. I tend to stay away from my major triggers, but I'll *sometimes* fight the tiny ones, because I want that sense of ownership of myself back. If you’re diagnosed with anything, do you feel that it accurately represents what you’re experiencing? Yes. What are some minor physical discomforts that really bug you (eyelash in your eye, a wedgie, rumpled socks, etc)? I'm VERY sensitive to feeling anything in my nose, and it leads to me needing to blow it a lot. I also can't stand having holes in my socks, but since I wear flip flops essentially everywhere, I don't experience this much. Are you ever afraid to admit to liking something because you’re afraid other people will judge you for it? What is the worst that’s ever happened as a result of you liking something different from the crowd? What about the best thing that’s come as a result of a unique interest? Y E P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nothing really bad has happened because of admitting my interests, other than hearing things along the lines of "I don't get it." It's very odd, just how horribly receptive I am to judgment about things I like when I don't recall a time where I was ridiculed for anything. But anyway, the best thing to happen from sharing interests for me is making a new friend that likes the same thing, and I will IMMEDIATELY be closer to you than most people I associate with once you've helped me past that vulnerable spot of mine. Have you ever remained good friends with an ex? Yeah. Do you have a negative view of mentally ill people, or are you mentally ill yourself? Do you ever call others crazy, insane, etc? Do you ever call yourself those things? I'm mentally ill and empathize heavily with those who suffer themselves. I absolutely do not have a negative look on mental health sufferers; we don't choose to be victims. I'm definitely not a big fan of abusing terms like "insane," because I've fucking been there, and it's not a term to take lightly. I've thrown 'em around before, but I try to avoid it. I don't call myself any of those things nowadays, but in the deepest trench of my depression and PTSD, I honest to God think I fit the definition of "insane." Does it bother you to have people comment on what you’re eating, or do you not care? What are some comments that would bother you, if any? Do you ever comment on what other people are eating or make assumptions about their intakes? YES. JUST DON'T FUCKING COMMENT. I get EXTREMELY self-conscious when my mom does this sometimes when I occasionally need a small snack to hold me out overnight, and I absolutely never will say something to someone else. It's just rude, imo. Well, I guess if someone was really destroying their health and I was close to them, I would out of concern and be very gentle, but when regarding most people? I'm keeping my thoughts to my damn self. Do you like Redbull? I've never tried it and don't want to. I'm not an energy drink fan. Who is the last person you spent money on? My mom. I remember I bought us fast food when we were out once. What are you looking forward to in the next 4 days? G U Y S!!!!!!!!! I GET MY TATTOO TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!! :'''') Also on the same day, I start my TMS therapy, which I have high hopes for. Have you ever gone a whole day without eating? No. Do you sometimes use your music player to help you fall asleep? No, but I did that for years back in middle school. Have you ever had a crush on someone “too young” for you? No. Do you shave your legs more than once a week? Haaaaaaaaa. If you could cuddle with anyone right now, who would you pick? I really wish I could cuddle my late pup Teddy again. :/ I was thinking about that recently. Are you tanned? God no. I never am. Do you try to wear dresses whenever you can? No. I wish I was in a shape where I was comfortable wearing spring dresses again... I had this floral skull one in high school that I adored. Are you wearing something that belongs to someone else? No. Have you ever been called a bitch? Yes. Did you like the person you last kissed when you kissed them? I loved her. Who did you have a meaningful conversation with last? Sara. Do you have feelings for someone? Yeah, but they're like... on a leash, you could say. I don't let 'em run free and wild, and I know that even if nothing comes of those feelings again, it's fine. Are you trying to avoid liking somebody at the moment? I think Jason will be this answer for a very long time, if not forever, given the trauma and all. I have to remind myself frequently that I love his memory, not him, because I don't even know him anymore. It's been YEARS since we spoke. Just like I've changed incredibly, I'm sure he has, too. If you saw life in black & white, would that be okay with you? I mean, it would suck, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. When you wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep, what kinds of things are you likely to do? How often do you find you have trouble sleeping? I do exactly what you shouldn't do and get back on the laptop. I'd say I most often get on WoW and refresh the auctions I have up because that tends to tire me out because I do that shit manually to avoid any addon mishaps, and I have a looooot to put up as a gold farmer. What was the last lengthy packet you filled out? Something to see if I qualified for a sleep study. Are you a patient person? What is one way you have a lot of patience? What about not very much patience at all? I am NOT patient, at least regarding more trivial things, like sitting in waiting rooms. I do have patience though with other people with more serious things, like getting someone to open up to me. At what time during the day do you tend to feel your best? What about the worst? When I first wake up. It's a "fresh start" and it's nice to feel rested. Plus, I open a fresh can of cold soda as my "coffee" for lack of better word, haha. I'm in my worst mood probably late afternoon/early evening, by which time I am incredibly bored and just dulled down. What was the last thing you did that you wish you could take back or do differently? The last thing... I dunno. How frequently do you stay overnight somewhere that isn’t your own home? What things do you miss about home when you’re away? Do you tend to get homesick easily? Pretty much never. I do miss my room and its privacy when I'm away from home, but I wouldn't say I get homesick all that easily, so long as I have WiFi, haha. Do you tend to eat more in the beginning of the day or at night? Do you have a tendency to snack when you’re bored? If so, what kinds of snacks do you normally go for? Not necessarily the beginning of the day, but definitely more than at night. I am BAD about snacking when I'm extremely bored, but at the very least I'm conscious enough to try and find something semi-healthy, like granola bars, fruits, a scoop of peanut butter, but I also sometimes just eat like... a slice of bread or a tortilla. Horrible choice. I'm a carb fiend and I hate it. If you have any dietary restrictions, do you ever miss foods you can’t have? If not, what’s something you haven’t had for a long time that you wish you could eat again? I thankfully don't have any. I've been craving cheesecake like a madman lately. :< The spicy shrimp fritas from Olive Garden, too. Is there something you still can’t do even though you’re an adult or might be expected to do this thing? I don't have my license, and my driver's permit is even expired. I'm terrified of driving. I also don't have a job, and I can't cook. When was the last time you congratulated someone? Were you happy for them, indifferent, jealous? Uhhh I think someone on Facebook had a baby. Of course I was happy for them. What was the last milestone you reached in your life (graduating, buying a car, starting a family, etc)? What milestone are you going for next, if any? Um... I haven't reached a true milestone in years. Hell, I don't think since I started recovery from the breakup. Do you enjoy getting comments or messages? How likely are you to leave comments or messages for other people? Yeah, it makes me feel cared about. It really depends on the platform on how much I leave other people comments, and I'm extremely shy about messaging, but I'll do it sometimes. When are you most likely to scream (either out of fright, anger, or whatever)? Do you scream or yell often? When was the last time someone screamed at you (or in your presence)? Frustration, for sure. I've screamed into a pillow more than once. I definitely don't yell or especially scream often. I'm sure the last person to yell at me was Mom, but I don't remember about what. What would you say is your STRONGEST emotion? Maybe not the most frequent, but the most intense? And what emotion do you feel most weakly, even if you might feel it more often? I'd saaaay... maybe love. When I love something/someone, I love HARD. I think I experience joy the weakest; it's very muted for me. And lastly, what are you listening to? Is this a band you listen to a lot "The Heretic Anthem" by Slipknot. I wouldn't say I listen to them a lot, but I have been more than usual lately.